The following letter has been written challenging the mindset of abandoning parents in the age of their dependency. The letter has been written by a C-suite employee of an MNC whose parents were gallant enough to abandon his grandparents and fly off to The United States, expecting to mint money there. His grandparents have ever since held the inhuman family in low regards.
Ivy Cottage,
Landour, Mussoorie,
Uttarakhand-248179
My dear Dadi,
I hope this letter does not find you in-midst of your afternoon siesta. Papa used to say that I have been bestowed with a surplus of fortune for being able to spend my childhood with you. Sometimes Dadi, I wish if nature could give a memory retaining power to all infants, for most of my memories of you are light-headed. You were right Dadi, we should have never left for The States. Things have grown worse ever since. I might be worth billions now Dadi, but someone is throttling me inside. I feel no pain, no happiness. Maybe you could come here? But I know you shall not so I won't insist. After all, who would want to visit a nation stained with the blood of her own child? I seek you from the bottom of my heart Dadi. I seek the cherry picking of healthy tomatoes from the hawker's rickshaw. I seek those hugs and kisses when the last exam of the semester would go well. I seek those cups of cutting tea and rusks every winter morning after the Prabhat Pheri. I seek those aam papads in the right pocket of your white sweater. I seek the mole on your left cheek that I kissed every now and then. But, all these thoughts give me fits of anxiety for I do not remember how you looked. I feel helpless, I feel redundant. Maybe you could send me a photo of yours, Dadi? I reckon you remember our carom games and possibly our incessant laughs when you made funny faces. Maybe you also remember your feeble fists, filled with rock salt, encircling my head in an attempt to keep away evil. In any case Dadi, rest assured that I adore you and pine for you in every moment that passes by. I am longing to see your reply Dadi. I hope you will forgive my deceased parents and would not keep your grandson waiting. You, Dadi, are all that I am left with.
Lovingly yours and yours forever,
Raghav Kumar
221 Street & Davenport Ave,
Queen Village,
New York City
Ivy Cottage,
Landour, Mussoorie,
Uttarakhand-248179
My dear Dadi,
I hope this letter does not find you in-midst of your afternoon siesta. Papa used to say that I have been bestowed with a surplus of fortune for being able to spend my childhood with you. Sometimes Dadi, I wish if nature could give a memory retaining power to all infants, for most of my memories of you are light-headed. You were right Dadi, we should have never left for The States. Things have grown worse ever since. I might be worth billions now Dadi, but someone is throttling me inside. I feel no pain, no happiness. Maybe you could come here? But I know you shall not so I won't insist. After all, who would want to visit a nation stained with the blood of her own child? I seek you from the bottom of my heart Dadi. I seek the cherry picking of healthy tomatoes from the hawker's rickshaw. I seek those hugs and kisses when the last exam of the semester would go well. I seek those cups of cutting tea and rusks every winter morning after the Prabhat Pheri. I seek those aam papads in the right pocket of your white sweater. I seek the mole on your left cheek that I kissed every now and then. But, all these thoughts give me fits of anxiety for I do not remember how you looked. I feel helpless, I feel redundant. Maybe you could send me a photo of yours, Dadi? I reckon you remember our carom games and possibly our incessant laughs when you made funny faces. Maybe you also remember your feeble fists, filled with rock salt, encircling my head in an attempt to keep away evil. In any case Dadi, rest assured that I adore you and pine for you in every moment that passes by. I am longing to see your reply Dadi. I hope you will forgive my deceased parents and would not keep your grandson waiting. You, Dadi, are all that I am left with.
Lovingly yours and yours forever,
Raghav Kumar
221 Street & Davenport Ave,
Queen Village,
New York City
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| The Best Dadi of the universe. |
Nice letter raghav! Nothing can replace our parents and the memories we have with them.
ReplyDeleteThank you Rishabh! It is true. No soul is a perfect substitute of a parent-biological or otherwise.
DeleteImpressive blog my friend!!!! Read it twice, a perfect article depicting real life scenario
ReplyDeleteThanks a lot Pramudit. Your motivation has always pushed me further :) Best of luck!
DeleteNice work Raghav. Very touching!
ReplyDeleteThanks a ton aunt Arshiya!
DeleteI miss my dadi so much that almost have tears dripping down my face. I feel delightful for myself to have cherished the same moments of childhood as you do. My DADI was my little universe !! Indeed very touching Raghav, keep the good wrk going
ReplyDeleteYour comment confirms the success of this post. It was meant to reflect the childhood of an average Indian child and your comment suggests that it did. I am glad you liked it. :D
DeleteVery rich and moving ! Great job ! *applause *
ReplyDeleteThank you Parth Suri for those warm words. I hope all of us get to cherish the love of our parents and grandparents even if we become worth billions. :)
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