I wish I would’ve told him more...
It was our Dad’s 5th death anniversary the next day. Everyone gathers to follow the rituals commonly known in India as “Shraddha” which is done every year on the death anniversary of the deceased person. I wasn’t too interested in it because I never liked my dad, so I never went to attend it. I knew what was going to happen there, all the relatives would come in and talk to me about my dad and his past, how they liked him, how he treated everyone in the office and was always helpful. I was least interested in what they said because I knew, all of this was a lie. He never cared about me, my elder brother Shankar, or my mom. All he cared about was his office and his friends. He would never bring us any gifts, surprises, or the basic necessity, of time. It was evening time and as I was searching for some files in the old cupboard, I found a book. Now I remember the cover of the book very well because a few years back, I used to write about my day in it. But it all stopped when I got int...