Dear Daughter | ✔

ग्यारह

Dear Daughter,
I am petrified. A fortnight has gone by since I wrote my last letter to you, and I realised just how scared I was of leaving you alone; again.

As I sit here, with dying men all around me; I can do nothing but feel fear and morose. Mostly morose, but the fear unknowingly slips in just like you slipped into my life with your mother; but unlike you, the fear is unwanted.

I had a strong hope all these days, little girl, that I would get to see you once the Kargil war is over; but that fire is slowly dwindling. I have some hope alive, but the voice of fear is booming over the sqeuak of hope.

When she was alive, your mother used to say that we need only one person to hold faith in us. For me, that one person was your mother. Today, fifteen years after your mother's death, I realise just how strong that thread of belief was.

Many of my fellow men get numerous letters from their homes, calling them back. I, on the contrary, am sending letters; or at least hoping to. I have no one entrusting their faith in me, little girl. All I have is a hallucination of your voice whispering for me to come and take you.

Every morning I wake up and fight for the pride of our nation, but as the sun goes down; so does my confidence. As the night goes on, I fear of leaving you behind. I do not want you to grow up believing that you had absolutely nobody looking out for you.

I want to come back to you, little girl. I want us to be happy and together. I want us to spend Father's Day together, and I want you to have a wonderful birthday with me. I want you to look up to me. I want you to know all about your mother; and I want you to know that you are loved.

When I left you out there on the orphanage door, I had no clue how your life would be. I just wanted it to be full of joy. I did not want to taint you with my past. You were way too pure to be acquainted with the story of your birth.

I really wish you are having a happy life in the orphanage, or even in the family you are adopted into; but at the same time, I want you all for myself.

Call me selfish little girl, but you are all I have; and I too want to be at least a little part of your life, if not your complete world.

Always and Forever,
Your Father.
June 27, 1999.

The video above revolves around the story of a journalist father trying to capture moments of riots. Please do read the description in the video before you watch it. It was added on here for the sole purpose of showing the relationship between a father and his daughter.