A year…

It’s exactly one year today since I last heard my dad. Since I last heard him call my name, since I last heard him laugh, since I last heard him tell me how much he missed me around.

I go back to Kolkata again today…to remember him and mourn him with the family…together…to hold ma tight and tell her she’s not alone, to remember baba together for all the good times and all the hard times, to remember his jokes and his antics, to wish that this day never came into our lives.

In the last one year I dont think there has ever been a day when I havent wished him here…around me…physically. There have been so many times when Iv picked up the phone to call him, only to realize that its futile. His number still stays on my phone, with his name and his picture…and I look at it wistfully hoping one day it will ring and he will be on the other end, talking to me. I dont cry anymore…my tears have dried up long long ago…tears dont come to me anymore…not even if I try hard.

One year ago I didnt think I could pass a day without him around. I couldnt move a step without holding his hand, I couldnt do anything without telling him…how would I live? but a year has gone by and we have emereged out of it…alive…accepting…not stronger.

Baba…u live in each one of us…every single moment, every single day…ur gone…but only in body. You remain my hero…now and forever.

I miss you and I love you.

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