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Someone rightly said we write about the things
we can’t speak about.
Perhaps, unconsciously,
the reason why I am blogging.
And absolutely the reason
why I typed a tactless message and pressed send. Five seconds later, my Father
would’ve read it. And it wasn’t the usual slip-up of the wrong recipient. It
was written exclusively for him and Mother, aimed directly at their egos, shot
through their hearts.
If you knew me personally,
you wouldn’t believe the things I wrote. I thought I liked being capricious but
not this way.
What breaks my heart most
is that, the content of that message, though rather selective and selfish, was
not mistaken.
My Father kept calling me
back and when it was finally clear that I wasn't in a mood to talk, he left a
message that read "Don't feel bad R, You are the best child any parent
could wish for. Mummy and I Love you very much."
Now I'm in this huge
chamber of guilt and remorse and I don't know if I can ever come out of it.
I shook their little peace
and I’m just a sober, stubborn, selfish, churlish, needy kid.
It would’ve been easier
coming from a junkie child.
I could tell you what the
message read, but I don't like to be judged. I couldn't even tell KS and he is
my secret keeper.
And also because it is
what I'm trying to forget, yet it keeps on reiterating in my selfish little
head.
