Dear Papa,
Everyone was scared when you fainted suddenly at home while we were watching the match; you know mum was inconsolable?
And even when you waved it off as tiredness, we could see something else, something bigger. I know that when the mirror reflects you and your seemingly healthy self, you know deep inside that there's something wrong. I remember Baba asking you to eat well and reduce your sugar intake. I remember me reminding you to take your medicines on time. I remember Ma remarking that you suddenly looked tired and thinner. I just do not remember you going for the routine visit to the local doctor when you were coughing nonstop.
I just remember you keeping yourself calm and composed when anything stressful suddenly came up. But this time it was different, the new business you had started was making you restless.
You believed the mirror. Not us. Now that you are surviving on medicines and I can do nothing about it, I wish was fierce enough to convince you that your reflection had been lying all the time. I wish I jumped onto your lap and forced you to go for that morning walk. I wish I would have been the stubborn child instead of the ideal child, for once. I know you will shake your head, looking at me as I write this; you must be preparing a strong alibi now, as you always did, right Papa?
Arguments so valid that we could hardly refute them, but I really do wish you were here when we all finally met for the family photograph which was meant to be 'complete'; not at another clinic, waiting for another test report, another flicker of rope, another ‘positive' swishing it away. Ma said that you looked as fit and fine as on the day of your wedding when you were on the way to the doctor's. Diabetes. High Blood Pressure. Varicose Veins. Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the finest of them all? It was always you, Papa, always you.
Posted On: 20 Jul 2018 4:37 PM