
An Open Letter
Hey Son
Do you miss me? I miss you. It gets kind of depressing sometimes living at the Old Age Home. But I am cool! I get to play hooky with my buds. Hehe! I think it is just the smell, you know? The one Bouma was talking about. Smell of decaying and death. Old Ramiz just died last night. Was a nice guy. How are the things with you? Too busy at work. I was wishing to see your children this summer if possible. Babu, won’t you give a visit to your old man? It feels likes ages I have seen any faces to whom I can relate myself. Life has become a burden somehow for me. Like I was at your house. Babu, I miss my home.
I understand, you work really hard all day. Meetings and business clients. Then raising two kids. They grow so fast, don’t they? Daduvai is going to Highschool and Buri will be getting into her first grade, right? I miss those cute monsters. You know, you were a rascal yourself too. Jumping and climbing on things. Driving your mom restless. She would do her best put discipline into you. But I liked the free soul. I wanted you to be happy and have fun as a kid. We would play pranks on her. You ride on my back instead of your bicycle.
Then, we both had end up getting scolded from your mom. But I enjoyed all of it. You were our only child. Ah, I miss those days! Babu, when I think about it only feels like yesterday. You have grown so fast, that I did not even notice. Finished business school as one of the top student. Got into a great job also very quickly. Even, found the love of your life to marry as soon as that. Son, you made me proud. I wish, your mom also lived to see all this. Last thing she had the chance to brag about, was your school results. Then, it was just you and me. I tried all I could to fill the void that motherly affection. I loved your mother so much. I could not marry anyone after that. I miss her till this day. I wish, least I had her by my side.
Do you remember the days in suburb? It was easier life. With my little business, I had more time to share with you, when your mom wasn’t around. Life is easier in those area. But best colleges are in the city. So, I sold my forefather’s house and lands. To move to the city and for your college fees.
I barely had any relatives there anyway. It also kind of helped me to get away from your mother’s memories. The small apartment in the city, was enough for a father and a son family. I didn’t mind doing odd jobs at sales or agencies. As long as, you were happy and studying comfortably. I studied very little in my life. But I wanted the best for you. Funny thing, I never understood you used tell me about your school, books or group studies. You were my only hope to live for.
I never hesitated to give away anything you needed. But I wish we spent more time. You got busier with your studies in high school and made many friends. I concentrated more into finding further works. I never wanted you to feel alone.
We just grew more apart after your marriage.
You got this great job. Took me to your house. I got to see the little angels, my grandchildren. I could never be happier. It was pretty great time for me retire. I got kind of sick anyway. I am really sorry, I made you and your wife stay up the night when I had stroke. I couldn’t move very well. Bad bowel movements. You know, just old man’s thing. Least I got to see your face good, after a long. And talk to you little while. You have your mother’s eyes. I rarely got to see those any day. You always had works or family matters. We rarely talked. I miss chatting with you Babu. Fighting over Argentina and Brazil football. With whom, did you watch the world cup, son? I watched the last one alone.
My buddies here at Old homes gets tired very early at night. They sleep a lot! Sadly, Ramiz did not wake up last night.
Son, will you come this summer? It will be almost two years now, last we talked face to face. Buri told me, you kept a creep beard! Just one hour is fine. Or even half an hour. I know it is kind of a long drive from where you live. I will even get ice-creams for Daduvai and Buri. Also, I wanted to give you something. It is some kind of heirloom. I just wanted to give it in person, while I can. Please make it this year.
Love from your
Old Man
