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Love
I will not be writing any meaningful letter today
I came to sirsa town in 1966 and got admission in RSD High School with the help of my senior whilst mom shifted to our old house in Mohalla Dhobian much earlier to look after sis and others. Dad was left all alone
Only today I have come to know
why Dad lived such a lonely life.
I get a flash back and my brain tells Dad was all alone all the time
Mom was only a fair season friend of my Dad
I become more alone when I remember my Dad
I have taken the sweater of Dad from the trunk
its lying in another room
may be I will take a snap of it and post it on this page
I know
you can have guts to come to see me but I will try to show my love to you
I know I am a good typist and probably time made me so in spite of my infinite worth I am a failed genius and every body is happy to give me less salary
Dad used to come to sirsa on weak ends but not that frequent
probably I have kept my Dad way of life intact
I come to my this flat every evening
but you are not available in any of the rooms
I remember Dad used to be very pleasant at his moods but his kid s failed him at every corner of life so he probably somehow learned to live a silent life
Later on Dad used to come on some special days only eg Diwali
I came to know Dad had no relevance of festival s
as his all festivals gone waste with winds
Love
One day may be in the year 1963 or so
my village not connected with any communication worth the name
vehicular traffic was on rowdy kachha roads and on such paths studded with dunes of say my own height
Dad used to send two tractors , one for dragging the trolley of grains etc and other to assist the main tractor at too frequent breakdowns and stuck ups in the shifting sands even then it was a journey of luck all the time and distance being hardly 10- 12 kilometers to the nearby sleepy market as sirsa was literally out of reach during those eventful days.
Dad tried his best to send his all kids , his own ones and others in his supra family system for education but all the bastards proved that they are the bloody blood suckers nothing else
When I completed my pg level at my univ I often wondered why Dad could not afford to come to see me
One day I thought let us meet ricky
I have been to Chandigarh too frequent
one day I was sitting at CHD bus stand shivering in merciless cold
ricky failed to come to meet me and I waited whole day
late evening I decided to put stay at bust stand may this winter can prove a point
but love
winter has come
you are no where with me
Dad came to see me when navu was born
it was in sector 7
I have a torn out sweater of Dad
come I will show you
Love
when you will come to meet me
you see these days scenario is quiet different
what I generally paint
whilst pen downing my love to you
crushing reality
failing relevance
ephemeral connotations
these are few words only
its something
as if you may find too enigmatic to sound of
I have spent numerous hours of mine
anu and kiran know me very well
I have yet to know
is there any thing
my shadows taunt me
as the sun takes its own laugh
I have painted
a crushing reality
you may find
not worth to decipher
and to live with
my heart says
darlin
don't put me
in further bad shape
Love
this snap became a necessary evil to catch
one reason is
I have not such an original posture of yours with me
Any how
now I am changing the purpose of writing
I was in my prep medical class at DAV college Chandigarh
its equivalent to 11th standard of now a days
I as usual a stupid and dude at achievement part of the scenario
looked too intelligent and possessed on face value
having a few books in hand with a note book and pen
The principal was an oldy chap with too much of experience at his hand
he was horribly impressed
till date
I wonder at me
and
at his experience.
Love
when I was just say a toddler
Dad kachha house was something too romantic to me
I remember
a nice day Dad bought two rabbits for us to play with
We planned our best
a small ditch was dexterously dug
and small bits of wheat loafs
a pot of water and milk in another make shift utensil
Dad was having a very big wheat cleaning porous dust cleaner
we put them underneath during late evening
probably we could not visualize its bio instincts
cat sat on it
the fear psycho killed one of them
next morning we requested Dad to give back the lone heart
where it belongs to
Puran Chand was a professional cyclist during those days of happenings
he used to bring people from sirsa and fetch them back too
it was a kacha road along the banks of water supply canal
well maintained by a baildar and staff
I remember it was in use till very late
I used to go on local bus to meet Dad
and generally lost at the glory of
that pathway
its now in ruins just like my Dad house
I do not know hindi nor sanskrit
I wished to know this bullshit medium of expression
as
the heights of non sense have gone beyond a threshold value
Love
I was probably never comfortable at any moments of mine
I remember at the 3rd yr semester system of my graduation school
tutor s were too keen to tell us
the dummy brain I possessed
we were having the practical part of the excursion in collecting live and exotic plants and to preserve them
Dalhousie and the rest house in deep woods
it was probably one hr walk to the main center of city
one of my acquaintance too fond of white gin
probably the smell was the practicality of decision
I put my best efforts in my room No. 2/31 to arrange and rearrange the delicate beauties
I remember the stink till date
