I sat with the tickets in my hand, my past reeling by.

I hated him from my heart and soul, yet he was always on my mind. I had done all I could to cut my ties with him, hmm…the ties which never existed … for him. He who left me, with my mum to be with someone whom he was in love.

As a child I used to hate him more because he had given so much pain to my mother. My heart bled every time I saw her crying secretly for him. She, who never moved on in life because she always felt may be , maybe, he would come back…. Who felt that he may have left her but must love his child, She manipulated me as much as a mother could- to believe that he adored me.. So every summer vacation she dropped me to his house for a few weeks, “his house” which was his, his wife two kids, whom he adored.

I would stand by the window and wave my mum goodbye, holding those tears ready to stream down but never did, because I WAS BRAVE,

I was treated with highest regards in his house, special food was cooked every day,  my likes and dislikes were taken care of , I was bought a few new clothes yet every  night my heart twitched and twirled  when they would  bid me goodnight and go to their room,, he with his wife , I silently would scream  to see my mother’s place being taken away, that hug which was mine being given away to “those kids”  All would kiss me good night and I lay there eyes wide open thinking about him.

Year on year the routine remained, until one day …

“I will no longer go to his house” I yelled at my mother. Do you hear me !!

Do you even know what I go through there. And all that which laid buried in my heart for years spilled out. I cried and she cried when .. she heard me between my sobs

“He never addresses me as his daughter in front of people , he told his daughters he gets me home because I don’t have a father and he has adopted me , he is scared to even hug me in front of his wife , they would always address me as “Bechari “and I spoke till my heart had no secrets hidden.”

Mom! I am not a orphan, I am not bechara, I hate him for what he is, what he has done to us, he does not even repent, I can understand what he did as a husband but how can he do this as a father“ I cried till my eyes had no more water to shed.

After that day, life changed, Mom changed, we never looked back until one day … this letter arrived.

Dear Di

I know I have no right to do this but I ask your help. We (both sisters) know the truth now. We were shocked to know who you were to us , and could not believe that my parents could do anything like this. The vague memories I have from your visits to our house, I now understand why you were always so quiet and awkward around us . I am a woman and can relate to the pain you and your mother would have gone through, Dad is very unwell, he wants to see you one last time, we love him very much and cannot see him in this much pain, he has done everything for us and now its our turn. You have given us so much as its only because of you and your mother that we are where we are , its part of your happiness which we got , but please give us one last thing.

Am attaching a ticket, hope you and auntie will come

Love

Your Sis

My heart was empty and so were my eyes. I could hear my self

“I am changing my surname as I don’t want to be known as your child. This is the only thing you had give me in life, which too, actually, you tried your best to keep  hidden from all. Even when I am your first born legitimate child I felt like a “bastard”. I never could tell you, that how much I hate you . I know some people are born bad and you are one of them. “ I had roared before moving out from his house for that one last time.

“Hey mom” my daughter came behind me and hugged me .. I looked at her and smiled … and  put back the tickets in the drawer …