My beloved thaatha...

I’m really sorry, thaatha.

When I was in India…
you had been there since the first moment I can remember for me. I think of you, and I think of glasses, knowledge; you were my dictionary. You knew the whole oxford dictionary by heart, did you not?You told me not to go to Miami. You pleaded to me, but I did not listen. I had to go for my education, so I could accomplish something; I could proudly display it to you.

But where will I go now, thaatha? You were the only man who still saw me as a child in your eyes; all of my other relatives became aloof with me, for i was no longer a young girl, but a half-grown woman.

… why am I working so much if my rostrum has faded away? Now, even though I cry and beg and stomp my feet to see your twinkling eyes, to hear you say I’m your blood, I cannot see you. Even if I was in Chennai, I wouldn’t have been able to. I’m on the other side of the world, separated from my pulpit, from my mentor, from the sole creator of the huge family I have now.I have never been in a position where I have not been able to express myself properly, where I was such a writer’s block. A river can’t go through a mere hole, and neither can my thoughts now.

I’m deranged, I feel nauseated, and I’m just plain confused. I can distinguish one feeling though, and I guess it’s cruel, raw, grief. Funnily enough, ma pestered me to write a letter to you. About my straight A’s, about how much she missed you, about how much my father would quote you when speaking to me. It was pretty evident my father was beginning to become just like you. The same stern stares, the same old, soft, white hair; the same I-don’t-like-adorning-myself-with-expensive-clothing. How amusing, I feel myself smile, even when I simultaneously taste my tormenting tears. Remember the Magna Carta? You gave me the definition, word by word. Just like how the oxford dictionary had defined that date. I am in a loss of words to explain this date, thaatha. The day you chose to disconnect yourself from me physically …but guess what? I don’t think I’ll ever let you leave me mentally. That’s one thing I absolutely refuse to let go of, my memories with you.

But still, I yearn for your physical stare, even though you’re looking after me now. I have a string of guardians now, I am happy; but I would rather see you alive. I cannot even bear to think of patti. I cannot even think of her without wearing colorful clothes, without her bangles… it was a family joke that she would always be sixteen at heart. What happens to my grandmother now? Now, that you chose to abandon her? No, that’s not fair. I shouldn’t get angry at you. Amma is booking tickets for Pa now, she’s gasping between her tears. She’s saying something, but I guess I’m too detached to pay attention to her. I yearned to tell you I have ceased reading those “unsatisfactory and cheap” books like Harry Potter, I am currently reading Jane Austen. How proud you would’ve been of me…I’m such an ungrateful lass. I should’ve called you, but did I? No. I chose to write. I chose to convey my feelings via words, a letter, which I never did finish. You never got it.

God, forgive me for forsaking those intelligent and twinkling eyes. That white-clad simpleton who inspired each and every one of his nine children to become what they are now. Thaatha, you created a whole new generation of geniuses and artists out of what you had. Each one of us has done our arangetrams in at least one type of music and dance, if not both. Each one of us are artists, let it be with words like Gayathri akka, or colors like Bindu ka. Look at me, thaatha. My father had bought a half a million $ house, something I doubt he would’ve guessed he’d have possession of 40 years back, when he lived in Adayar.

But I suspect it was part of your plan all along, perhaps that’s why you just smiled and watched it unfold. You taught me that words can do what no doctor could... The weight in my heart has decreased, but the hollowness that you and my maternal patti chose to leave will take some more time to heal.

God, People just don’t know the worth of things, 'til it leaves their grasp.