Memories Suck

You know why they suck? I cried. And my laptop became all snotty and dirty. I can feel it beneath my fingers. I had to stop crying because I can't worry anyone but someone tell me what photos are. No, they are a cruel reminder of how okay papa was. How I won't ever get to click a picture with him again. I think back to the Hyderabad trip. He took us. But when I see the photos, I saw how he couldn't walk to half these places. Remembered how they made him take off his prosthesis at the airport for security checking. Then I suddenly realize that all of it was for US. I feel ashamed. I remember there was this place - Shilparaman (would have to check the spelling to be sure). Papa got really pissed because we were spending a lot of time and weren't coming out. We became angrier in return. But all I think of now is how he spent so much of his time in the car, waiting for us. Smalll thing to ask from us then, wasn't it?

What sucks is all these lovely faces I am seeing in all these pictures are all going to be dead one day. Gone. And I can't escape that.

What sucks is this family history. A history of husbands being taken away too soon. Children being left fatherless. Mothers feeling so alone. All so soon before time. And then this stupid history being repeated.

What sucks is you can't preserve every piece and every smell and every feeling and every conversation and make a big shrine out of it. Its bullshit they say about souls being hurt when you cry about them. I think they understand.

PS - What sucks for all you readers is I shall be back soon. :P