Dated: 1st Feb '15.
Place: Kerela Express @ Gwalior Station.
I am traveling from Sevagram to Delhi with Maa. I move back to Dehradun today after the "train wreck" decision of taking the Mumbai job. I still look up to it as a flat risk I chose to which the end was known to me throughout.
Let's not get into the details of that. I decided to finish the book I have been reading in this very journey. "for one more day" by Mitch Albom. I was given this book by Aakanksha Sharma, a dear friend and a lot more! While she handed it to me she said that you will end up in tears. I thought thus, I should read it. I finished reading "To kill a mocking bird" and took this book up. In the last 15 pages of this book, I cried uncontrollably. It says so much I desire for too. Oh what I can give to live just one more day with my father. I never got a chance to make it up to him.
There were times I wasn't the best daughter. There were times I wasn't the best anything. I was just a loser over all. And my father had to see and deal with that. He saw me falling, failing but couldn't see me today when I am everything he hoped for.
There were times I got angry on him... for coming home late, for not buying me that toy and for not letting me do this thing and the list is endless. I got angry, fought with him, lied to him, probably even raised my voice to him a few times. What eats me up now is I never got a chance to apologize! I never got a chance to say to him how much I love him, never got a chance to tell him that i see how much he loves me. He wasn't a very expressive man... He never put in words how much he loved us- Bhai, Maa and I. He probably left it on us to observe and conclude on it.
I have wished so many times to get to be with him just for one day... ONE DAY!!! And I wish for it even more now. Because somehow, if and when I meet him now, it will be a much more transparent relation. I wanna hear the entire side of his story and although I know he knows, but still tell him my side of story.
"I believe that parents, if they love you, will hold you up safely, above their swirling waters, and sometimes that means you'll never know what they endured. And you may treat them unkindly, in a way you otherwise wouldn't. But there's a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall. How a scar got on your face. Sometimes the stories are simple. And sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking. But behind all your stories is always your parent's story, because here is where yours begins..."
