One has to muster a lot of courage to write about pain. It is easy to express pain through your senses, but not through your hands. Changing the font, expressing it from your heart and then articulating it, does not seem to be an easy task.

But I think I need to do it, for this is the thing I want to – as I was told it helps to let out. You never know, it just might reduce the pain.

Time and effort, as they say, kept me away for a long time. 2 years away from myself, this reflection that I call my own, did not have me around. My effort to be ahead in the ‘rat race’ and struggle to be ‘out of it’ kept me confused. The fear of losing my most precious valuable kept me lost and ignorant.

The end was perilous, Darkness was imminent, but the little shades of gray is what you bank upon – and you rest your shoulders on the fragile layer of hope, ironically putting more and more weight on it, as it trembles. Does that happen every time just before a person gets completely shattered?

I always hated compromising – maybe, now I have to learn to live with the biggest compromise!
For I know what I have lost – no matter what I think, no matter howsoever hard I try, something I considered more important than my own life – of course, then, everything now seems secondary.

Dad expired on 26th June 2009, just a little later than 9pm. It is a loss that cannot be articulated – even an attempt towards it sounds like an inane effort.

I am still trying to collect the pieces, one by one, trying my best that they don’t hurt – I know if I try to get all the pieces together, something somewhere is going to hurt pretty badly. So, the best thing one can do is to pick the big pieces, lift the smaller ones, and then, brush away the smallest pieces.

“Anyways….” sounds so familiar. You always end up with a ‘but’ and ‘anyways’, trying to act more mature, more responsible and of course, more understanding. Least realizing that you just stopped expressing yourself for all reasons – Your vulnerability increased and your exposure minimized.

Dad always told me to follow my path – “always follow what you want to do, son!” – Nothing echoes more than his advice now. Just that the echoes is what I have to make do with.

You look at the loss as a failure and it shatters you. But I know he is giving me the strength to move ahead, even with greater assumed responsibilities. He has his hand over my shoulder that gives me much more confidence now to accelerate myself to pursue my dreams and for once, my dreams are now translating into goals.

He said one thing, “Son, don’t stop writing”. This one line is now my inspiration, motivation, and of course, ambition. Maybe, this can also be taken as a “dedication”. But all these big words collapse into one single assertion, “a promise”!

I promise to bring life into this place again – and not only get back to what the engine propelled, but put even more coal into it!

Luv you dad. This is for you.

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