I hate arguments. I hate it when you apply your pretty little heads and come up with conflicting theories on everything that goes on in this world. I hate opinions. I hate the strong, and I don’t pity the weak. How does it feel to have your voice drown out all the others? In the survival of the fittest, there’s nobody left to be beautiful.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Dadu, I miss you. The last time I saw you, you did not recognise me. Your eyes were dim, you had forgotten how to speak. Shrunken and silent, you were not the grandfather I had known for twenty-four years. I prayed to God that you find relief from this pain as soon as possible. I am happy that He listened to me. I am happy that you are now ensconced in a safe, secret and beautiful place. The world will never see someone as gentle, kind and loving as you ever again. Here I am, sitting in office, while everyone who loved you has been mourning for you since last night. A terrible pain clutches at my heart as I type out this letter for you. Am I letting you down? It is so hard being away from loved ones.
Remember me as that little girl who walked around pretty little parks with you, listening to your tales about an idyllic world of fishing boats and nets.
Rest in peace, Dadu. I love you.