Dear Gary,
There is one thing that I am repulsive to it— funeral.
I never do well on this kind of events,
I always feel as if I were about to be strangled by
a cascade of nostalgia and unrelenting emotions.
I sincerely hope that you would at least try
to understand my snobbish indifference.
.
December
of all the joyous months on earth
(When earth borne you & the Lord Jesus)
is indeed cruel to you and your family.
There has never been once an auspicious day
to let our loved ones sing their swan song;
but the reaper has chosen to take away the only father you’ve ever had.
.
When I heard about his demise
—the good, affable, easy going and loving father—
I felt as if I were dreaming a bad dream;
but as I picked up the call, I realized it was real.
My mind was at sixes and seven
I didn’t know what or how to do
Like an expatriate that absconded from his
native land and reach the rubicon
I was in a delirious dilemma of whether
to come or not. Then I chose the latter.
.
I’m yet to lose a father,
I’m yet to face death and its demons,
I don’t know even the slightest way of
how I would console your heart,
and mistakes are something that I’ve often confused with experience,
I shall always regret my experience of not coming.
.
Talking of experiences,
It was always worthy of making his acquaintance,
The last word I’ve heard from him keeps
reverberating in my ear
‘be my scribe, let’s write something genuine’
I only wish I could at least write to him
of how much I admire his resilience and
perseverance. He was one of those
unsung heroes who never pine for praise.
But this awkward elegy is the only thing I can write.
.
When the sheer madness of lost is over
I hope you would find the silver linings
between these dark clouds and black thoughts.
I hope beyond all hopes that your loss
will eventually be repaid by blessings galore from divine providence.
Alas! Bad news never has good timing,
and my words are not an exception.
the harlequin 