Life is all about experiences and I am having aplenty, they keep coming like the blocks in a computer game. Have you seen professional gamers? They have played those games so many times that it all becomes mechanical and neither a catch makes them happy nor a drop makes them sad. It becomes so technical after a point of time that the player just stops reacting to what’s happening and focuses only on the next move. But life is not a game, it is to be lived and breathed and experienced and dealt with. And the thought that has been flashing in my mind like a beacon is that, “The happy experiences enrich us and the sad ones…. well! They, TEACH.”
I remember the time I started with this blog. My father’s message to me was, “Excellent! This is what I call word craftsmanship. So keep writing. Don’t write about life. You are too young for that. Write about the day, event, old memory, just anything about nothing. ALL THE BEST.”
Only a father can feel that his 40 odd years old daughter is too young! And hence I didn’t contest what he said. But now with having lost him a few days ago, another part of me, my past has wilted away. Simply put my childhood is lost. I am acutely made aware that I can no more act silly or play with words the way we did. I cling to the conversations we had about the books we read, the music, the late night reminiscences when we were at the hospital, and the laughter we shared at the expense of whatever we fancied at the time. Today, I realise that age does not decide whether someone is old or young; one is as old as the experiences one has. And going by that standard now I am old enough to write about life as it comes.
So, as a dear friend reminded me, I gather myself to rezone because, “Faced with adversity, I decide not to flee; I rise like the Phoenix for all to see.” I am my father’s daughter, a fighter! So, as…
The lion sleeps, let him rest.
He has not lost, he fought
the hardest!
Always a winner, in life or death
I put up the fight till last breath.
Long Live the King!
Ma’am I am so sorry for your loss, your father was, is and will always be very proud of you. keep writing (:
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Thank you very much dear, truly appreciate it.🤗
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My pleasure Ma’am (:
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Childhood can be put in a bottle and placed on a shelf, it’s never really lost when we can visit it any time; these memories lie in the past, present and ones yet to be. Bonds of love are always shackled free.
Here’s to your strength to hear the roar once more. Much light.
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Thanks very much Mark for your uplifting words. I value it much.
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Oh, Shruti, what a father he must have been. I love the words he gave you when you started blogging. That was so beautiful. He sounds like a remarkable man, full of knowledge and joy–a writer and reader and lover of music. And a lover of his daughter. He will obviously be missed. Peace and comfort to you. My sincere condolences in the loss of your dear father. Thank you for writing about him today.
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Thank you very much.
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