Short Messages to Dad -

My A_Z journey ends here. I have been down with a heat related stomach infection for a couple of days. Having missed three posts in a row, it's only fair I quit. I will continue to post a-z tidbits when I get better.

A big thank you to Alex, Michelle and others who visited and tried to make me feel better.

Short Messages to Dad - Letter F

Letter F - Future

Image courtesy -InspirationBoost/quotes

Life goes on... Nothing's changed, snail paced at times and missing an important element - you.
Someone said,"You don't die with the dead". True enough. You can - you just don't. 

Mom is coping badly...Work keeps my grief at bay but for someone who made you the focus of her life, time has slowed down. 
Rifled through your clothes - found the birthday ones with shopping tags intact - planning to give them away.

All I need is a future plan to bring a smile on mom's face - one not dependent on your grand kids.  

Any ideas, dad? I am desperate. 

Short Messages to Dad - Letter E

Letter E - Ethics

Ethics is knowing the difference between what you have a right to do and what is right to do - Potter Stewart

You could have been a rich man with luxurious apartments and fancy cars. You were surrounded by ones who build personal fortunes through devious means and never got caught. You worked in the banking industry - loans and advances - and held a position that offered such opportunities. You never took those bribes and commissions for breaking rules - never gave it a second thought.

Money was important but not enough to discard professional ethics. You watched bosses, colleagues and juniors take hefty cuts from businessmen. Those bundles of money never swayed you. 

This was your greatest asset that you passed on to me and bro. You considered us your assets - your wealth. 

 My greatest joy - honest, hardworking parents who scrimped and sacrificed to give us the best they could. My greatest regret - my inability to fulfill those professional dreams you had, for me. Where I failed, your son made you proud. He truly deserved to hold your remains - your ashes.

I try to follow your footsteps. You know I don't write false web copy or blog reviews for harmful products, and have never written fake book reviews for monetary compensation. 

Were you proud of me, dad? 

Short Messages to Dad - Letter C and D

* The auto posting failed and I failed to notice. I have edited it to add letters C and D in today's post. *

Letter C - Crab

Anyone who's lost someone to the crab will say this, that you have to struggle to try to remember the person before the diagnosis happened, because they really do change - as anyone would change - Mindy Kaling

I've met my share of crabs in my short life. Most of these have been the homo-sapien kind, although I encountered a couple of eight-legged ones on the beach. 

Some become close friends - one of them, 20 years older than me, still is - you know who I am talking about, don't you dad? You liked her too, as did any everyone who met Aunt. 
Other crabs were nice, shy, weird or rude. They were friendly and reserved; moody and talkative - much like me. 

And then - there were three - possessing all the negative traits of this sun sign and more - they made my life miserable, and yours by extension.

I believed all crabs were made equal. I was so wrong.

The worst of the lot was the invisible one - the villain who attacks innocents by pretending to make perfect cellular copies of them. It doesn't discriminate - age, colour, religion, sex, race, language, education, wealth, and country - doesn't matter.

This black monster chose you as his next victim - started off as benign and curable - weakened you -  an everyday viral infection killed you. No symptoms except constant back pain - brushed off as old age and worn out bones - could we have saved you?

Letter D - D Day

It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was - Anne Sexton, American poet 

Today is the fourth day of the four month of this year. 

It's been a month since I last heard your voice. Come to think of it, I haven't heard your voice for longer than that, ever since they shifted you to the C.C.U. 

Four was my lucky number - my birth number, but now, I will forever associate it with the day you moved on to another realm - we will argue about these realms some other day.

You made promises - you broke them. I made promises - I broke them. You died early in the morning, in your sleep - in a coma.  A gentleman till the end -  making sure your children didn't have to run around getting things arranged. You gave loved ones enough time to make it to the funeral site. I called up two banker friends from Mumbai, who kept in touch with you, post retirement. Other cried over the phone but I had to hold back my tears, for later. 

Every one whose company you enjoyed turned up - some by the first available flight and some by road. It was a small group of 30 odd relatives that gathered around us, giving us strength and comfort. 

Short Messages to Dad - Letter B

 B - Beaches

The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach - waiting for a gift from the sea.Anne Morrow Lindbergh

You loved beaches. It was befitting your ashes were scattered at Elliot's Beach, a favorite spot in Chennai.

Hindu women aren't supposed to, but the priest (to my surprise) allowed me to accompany your son and nephews on this last leg of your earthly journey. I wasn't allowed to touch that small brass urn containing your ashes. Another feminist rant from me, but you've heard these and more for over 30 years, haven't you?

I stood on the short wall surrounding the beach. Teary-eyed, I watched three lonely figures wade into the water and release you from mortal confines.

Short Messages to Dad - Letter A

My first post for the Blogging from A to Z April Challenge 2014. Almost a month ago, I had decided against participating and I had emailed Michelle (one of the co-hosts and bloggette friend) about it. This, after informing her about an event that rocked my life.

My dad, aged 70, passed away 29 days ago. These short messages -100 words (drabble) or 200 words (droubble) are a mix of past, present and future happenings, memories, and thoughts.

I apologise if some of these letters end up on a sad note.

A - Acceptance 

Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward - C.S. Lewis 

How do I accept you will never return home? Your desperate attempts to breathe haunt me - 36 hours turned hope into despair. How do I stop this recurring image - your bidding me good night and walking slowly to your room, wearing those black and red flip-flops?

I wake up everyday and expect to see you in the living room – I imagine myself grabbing the newspaper while you're distracted by the news on television.

How do I assuage my guilt over those words repeated every day of your hospital stay - false words I believed in – back home soon?

A Coincidence?

Time for another round of  RFW - Romatic Friday Writers

Challenge 42- I need a change.

I wandered into the balcony tempted by the cool breeze and the tantalising view of the golden sands. Sips of the invigorating cup of spiced tea while listening to the melody of the small town rousing itself from sleep formed my daily routine. I enjoyed hearing the slapping sounds of pigeons from adjacent cottages and the clanging horn of children’s bicycles as they passed by.

Peace proved elusive today and the noise grated on my nerves. This trip hadn’t turned out as well as I hoped, even my daughter’s imminent arrival from London failed to cheer me up.

His indifference hurts. It went back decades and I am used to it. Why did it nag me now?

Sundar is a liberal man, but his modernity extends to the children alone. For me, he is the husband cast in the mould of my father and grandfather before him. Disciplined men yet rigid in their set ways. My husband is in Singapore trying to solicit new customers for our knit wear factory.

 The textile industry has taken a hit given the global slowdown. With the high labour turnover and the power crisis in our state we may have a white elephant on our hands. The workers won’t be getting a bigger bonus, if they received one.

I took another sip and let out a sigh. I had an easy life. I shouldn’t be complaining.

He had been more enthusiastic than me over our ladies club’s week long sojourn to Goa. Why didn’t he take me with him? As the chief merchandiser, I could scout their retail markets while he attended the trader’s meet. I hadn’t visited our office in a month. The three projects on hand were on schedule, and the juniors competent enough to oversee the day to day activities. They kept me in the loop with emails and calls.

“Anita, a package for you.” My childhood friend, Dina‘s voice filtered through. Who could it be?

“Go on, open it.” My friend seemed to be onto the secret. “It from him,” she whispered.

What an age to turn romantic. Was my college sweetheart returned to me? I almost tore open the envelope in my haste.

 The papers fluttered down from my hands. My friend raced against the wind to retrieve them.

I watched, as her light coloured cheeks turned crimson. “Bastard,” was all I heard before my head hit the floor.

 Wc 400

 FCA - full critique acceptable

* Do visit on the 12th  to catch J.C Martin's, author of recently released mystery thriller Oracle, interview...there is a  Giveaway with three prizes for 3 winners that runs till Sept 2. 

A Ring Of Finality

*Used the phrase, with a necessary change in adaptation given the cultural setting*

'She wears my ring', the lingering smile on his face announced to all the attendees at the wedding reception.

His fidgety movements betrayed his impatience over her delayed appearance.

"Relax. These ladies always turn up late, must be busy with her makeover." said his cousin shrugging his shoulders casually.

His movements eased but barely so. His relatives had echoed similar sentiments, using different words at various stages of the wedding.

"Stop asking these silly questions. Brides are nervous on their wedding day."

His nosy aunt had stated, overhearing the words exchanged by him and the best mate.

"We girls are excepted to be shy and modest, at least on such days." The sister had butted in with her wise tuppence patting his arm for added effect.

Maybe they were right, they were experienced after all. Her quiet, solemn look, her rare glancing his way could be explained thus, couldn't it?

His heartache lessened and he went back to standing at the entrance to the lobby.

***

Through the final touches of make up, she twirled the diamond engagement ring.on her hand. Glancing at the mirror in front of her, the black and gold beads among other jewellery on her neck glinted back, signalling her married status.

She touched them gingerly with her finger tips eliciting a gentle admonishing from the beautician.

"Madam, please keep your hands down, the nail paint will get blotchy."

Inspecting her fingernails, the young girl sighed,

"See, I have to redo it." looking around for a bottle of remover.

She apologised with a smile and stared at the ring instead. Little joy there, rather the feel of it on her finger felt like a heavy weight on her soul. Her heart still beating for another. The charming boy with the impish grin who had wound his way into her heart, only to break it into countless pieces years later.

Her husband was a good man deserving more than she could offer. They were family friends, her parents adored him as his loved her. He had always encouraged her, made her laugh.

*** 

Her transfer would take time. This year of separation would turn out to be a blessing. Looking into his adoring eyes as he took her hand in his, she promised herself, he would never know that their marriage had begun as a compromise for her.

wc 388 .

 For Romantic Friday writers