• Aakansha Mahajan

F1: I miss my papa..!!

We were meant to be together always

But we could not…

You never said you were leaving

You never said any bye…

You left before I could even know it

And no one knows why….



I miss you papa!

I lost my papa when I was a kid, just 21-year-old immature kid. Even though it’s been 7 years now, I still have not been able to come to terms with his death. I still feel cheated and let down by destiny and the intervening years between now and that black day have done nothing to reduce the pain. I keep telling myself that my papa is with me and is watching over me, I talk to him every day, share with him how my day went, but trust me, it’s just not enough. I want him here with me, physically. I wish he was here, right beside me, in all moments.

He was my superhero and he was always with me in all my good moments, back then. But I wish he had applauded me on all my academic achievements when I was doing my masters. He was not there even when I passed my B.Ed. with flying colors or when I got my first job. He was not there to clap the loudest when I got my first salary. I have had to live life’s big moments without him, and it has been torturous. But my papa told me there was nothing I could not do, that I had to do was try my best and then to God leaves the rest. I believed him then but not now. I believe whatever good happens to me now is because of him. Because he is doing something magical to things so that they fall in place for me. And not anyone else. Not God for sure. Because, if God would have been there somewhere, my papa would have been with me right now. I miss my papa.

I wish I could be a little girl again who had to just shed a teardrop and papa’s arms would be around her, comforting her and assuring her that he will always be there to protect her from the bad world. My life used to be so simple, happy and uncomplicated when he was around because there was a sense of security, that no matter what, he would always be there to pick up the pieces, should my heart ever break. A sense of love that no matter what, he will always love me and will always be with me, in all situations, what may come. Things turned ugly, life became a roller coaster ride after him, but he wasn’t around to tell me that it wasn’t the end of the world; that the clouds would go away and the sun would shine again. No, I had to figure all that out myself. I had to learn a lot of things the hard way. And same for my bhai and mom. They both battled their own struggles without papa. I know for sure, had he been alive, he would not have allowed those things to happen to any one of us (me, bhai or mummy). I have missed him when things became so tough after him in all aspects and I have cried bounteous tears into my pillow at night and wondered whether things would have been different had he been here. But he just wasn’t there to help us over the rough, dirty stones of growing up. I miss my papa.

How I wish my papa could have met and known the amazing man I married- he would have heaved a sigh of relief to know that his son-in-law tries his best to pick his daughter from where he left her. How he would have loved to see his ‘little angel’ in the shaadi ka lehenga. How I wish my papa could have met the beautiful wife of my bhai and that how she tries hard to keep everything comfortable for bhai and mummy. How I wish my papa could have been here to stop mummy from crying every day and every night and missing him immensely. How his presence would have made a huge difference in our lives. I would still be a little girl then, my bhai a little less matured and quiet, my mummy a little happier and more alive. I wish.

Things have changed completely. We have everything but deep down we are empty. I don’t remember the last time when my mummy laughed with all her heart. She still gets tears in her eyes when we try to make her smile and how she says ki ye apne aap aa jate hai. How my bhai has matured overnight and does everything beyond his power and control to comfort mummy and me, and now his wife. I don’t remember the last time when I actually asked for a thing to anyone, not that I won’t get it, not that I cannot buy myself, but I miss the affection with which papa used to get things for me. No one else can ever do that. Nobody in the world can ever love me the way my papa did, the way he still does. I miss my papa.

I know that I still carry him in my heart and raise his memory to guide me through the darkest hours of my life and also share my happy moments, drawing strengths from his memory and from the trust in his total care and love for me.

Writing this post, was really tough, took me weeks, each time I used to open this, I had tears rolling down my eyes. But I still wrote. Because it helped, a little, I admit. Obviously, this is not as good as the real thing-it can never be, but something is better than nothing. I could not find any other way to comfort myself from the everyday pain I carry with me. Carrying my papa’s memory to all of life’s significant moments is certainly better than always feeling the void that he has left behind which will never ever be filled again. I love him today just as much as I did back then, I just hope one day I will see him again- before I die. I will always wait for that one day. I miss my papa.


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