A man who once commanded a whole ship with a crew in hundreds, now lay all alone on a hospital bed. The man who was proud and independent, now had to depend on others to help him sit up. A man with a mountain of knowledge, now didn't even know that he had been spending nights in a hospital. A man with the farsightedness of a telescope, now had an eye that didn't function at all. Life can be very unfair at times. Daddy is alive but his essence has declined. He is weak and he is not the same anymore.
Every Mighty Empire has experienced a downfall. For many, the crumbling away of an empire is nothing short of a story that moistens their eyes. But daddy's final decline made me sob and scream. I had to cry all alone. I had to hide and cage my emotions while everyone is busy taking care of daddy. I had to help them too, but my hands and feet are paralyzed. I refuse to believe that he is just a mortal. I refuse to see him in this condition. I simply refuse.
But I need to cry, I need to scream, I need to hit my head on a wall. I need daddy. I need him to get out of his bed and walk me around the house. I need him to do his magic again and squeeze out a whole bar of chocolate from my ears. I need him to sit with me on the lunch table and repeat all his stories and adventures. I need him to stand proud and hug me when I succeed in life. I need him to attend my future high achiever's ceremony. I need him to approve a girl for me after telling me all the stories about his girlfriends. I need him to sit with me and watch baywatch with me again.
But more than anything, I need him to live forever.
Even now as I write this, I get up to wipe my tears and daddy speaks in his half sleepy condition, "Shehroz, Sardi toh nahi lag rahi?"
(Shehroz, are you cold?)