Colorful wishes accumulate in my email inbox announcing Deepavali/Diwali. Friends and relatives call up at frequent intervals. Each wish is a sad reminder of the last time I spent this festival. My dad was alive. He wished K and I much happiness. I knew what he wanted for us. The week before the festival I spent it with my appa and amma. We had fun shopping and buying ‘bakshanam’ at Suswaad and Grand Sweets and Snacks. Appa was very keen that ‘maapilai’ go back to Bangalore with box loads of ‘bakshanam’. Little did any of us realize that a week later he was in the hospital battling for his life.
When people call, full of the festive spirit, I feel horrible to be the wet blanket. Yet I cannot bring myself to inject cheer in my wish. To me this year it is yet another day. One that reminds me of better times in the past. One full of memories of my Appa. Images of him devouring ‘deepavali marundhu’, of him applying ‘nalla yennai’ on my head, of giving out ‘pudhu thuni’ making us sit on the palagai swim in front of my now brimming eyes.
Appa I miss you way too much.