You found this letter so late because I never posted – Â you were always so busy â€“ at the office with work and at home with your sons and Mrinalini.
Ever since your baba left, I have been very lonely, with no one to share my stories and agonies with. Every Sunday I made your favourite snacks and waited, hoping against hope that you would come. But neither did you come, nor did your call.
Know this, whether in heaven or hell, I still love you and youâ€™ll be my darling no matter what and will be looking over you always.
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Writing to me is therapy, it frightens and comforts at the same time. Liberates like nothing else. A book in my own name is a dream, but a bigger dream would be to write something that haunts the reader even after the last page is turned and the book is shut. I enjoy reading and music, spending time with family whilst battling my social awkwardness.