Tumar, Always

Mur Morom or Dewta (My Beloved Dad),

I didn’t go in.

Not yesterday.

Not the day before that.

I know I know I should have but she was kept in the same room as yours. What kind of twisted coincidence is that? The word “kept” sounds caged, doesn’t it? But I suppose in some way, everyone in there is trapped: unable to mobilise but hoping that one day they will. But what about the ones who are too fragile to even keep that hope alive within them? What about those who can’t express their voice, their pain because they can’t speak?

I wish you were here; I really do.

You loved her as your own and you meant so much to her. I have not even a shadow of doubt about the care and love you would’ve bestowed upon her. She would have recovered just by seeing that infectious smile of yours!

But she’s sinking, Dewta.

She has been battling for every single breath, literally and proving everyone, who ever thought she was weak, how very strong she really is. I want her to stay; I want her to live but there are forces, so incredibly evil and obnoxious, that I fear I will lose her to them.

Ever since you left me, I have been devoid of feelings and so numb. Too numb to may even be recognised myself as a psychopath. But I’m here today with her, and yes I went in (only because they changed her from where you once stayed), sitting beside her, trying to hold all my broken pieces and hold her hand in mine, giving her my broken heart, all taped up.

But whenever I see her, I see you.

She can’t talk anymore, neither did you.

Her oxygen levels are so low, so were yours.

Her organs are damaging, yours didn’t even stand a chance at all, did they?

She’s dying, Dewta; you’re already gone.

You. Cancer. Nine Years. Gone.

Her. Heart. All her life. I can’t anymore.

One of the forces wants her dead, Dewta. And they are trying, from every fibre of their being, to kill her. And I’m still here, holding onto her, not wanting to let go of her.

Not yet.

I miss you, Dewta.

Everything you ever suffered, I am watching her suffer too and I can’t do a thing about it. I feel so helpless, and watching her wither away before my eyes is so unsettling.

The end feels so expected, almost near but yours never did. We knew, maybe somewhere deep down in a place that was never acknowledged, the end we would face with you. And yet, it came as a massive shock when your heart stopped beating.

I’m so sorry, Dewta.

I’m so sorry for everything you ever went through in your life. You didn’t deserve a single pain, but only happiness and love, and yet, all you received was suffering. And now, looking at Aita (grandmother), I am watching you die all over again. She means so much to me, just like you did to me. I’m sorry I didn’t stay longer that evening, or that night. I was a brat, a teenager but that’s no excuse for not saying how much I loved you. How much I love you. But I hope you always knew and know that you meant the world to me and the day you left me, I, my true essence, was gone with you too.

I hope that being here for her now and trying my best to keep her going as much as I possibly can somehow whispers into your ears what always was and is written in my heart: I love you.

Please, just for a minute, can you come back to me and let us get this brilliant woman up together? Just for a moment, can you stay and lay your hand on my head with the kind of love only I know you are capable of giving? Can you again look at me and smile? Work that smile on her too for she loved how your smile lit up everyone’s heart!

Can you please come back to me and never leave?

Tumar (Yours),

Mrigakhi.