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and memories are left to savour, not the never could find him and neither did he
pleasurable moments of meeting in flesh ever return. It is one of those mysteries of
and bones. my life, not being able to figure out what
After my marriage, I had moved out could have happened or what could be the
of my parents’ home, where I had spent cause. Was it momentary loss of memory,
twenty-eight years of my life , due to was it some kind of abduction for ransom,
various constraints. I was deeply attached was it some case of hypnosis for devious
to my parents; I am what I am indubitably purposes? There were several posers, but
because of them , and had made it a point no answers. Over time, it remained a lost
to visit them, if not every day, every other cause. To this day, it is a painful reminder
day on the way to my office in downtown for our family; only the inherent human
Mumbai, as well as have telephonic resilience and helplessness has seen us
conversations with them every day. 24th through over the past 22 years. My father’s
April 2003 was another such day; I had disappearance has left an immeasurable
had my usual early morning call with void and immense sorrow in my life. Had
them, seated in my car, whilst on the I not missed out the moment of ‘now’ on
way to my office. I remember my parents that fateful day of 24th April 2003 and had
asking if I would be dropping by, but I dropped in to their home, I could have met
was not in a position to do so because of my mother and father and probably got
some early morning meetings that I had. to know something or sensed something
I had dropped in a day before to partake out of the conversations. But it was not to
of the relishing breakfast my mother had be. My mother was in constant yearning
cooked for me; nothing gave her greater for her husband, only to have placatory
pleasure than serving food to visitors reassurances from us, till her passing 5
including me on my frequent visits. My years later. I still pine and yearn for my
father had left home around noon that day father and somewhere deep inside me there
to buy some groceries, as in the past. He is a sense of guilt, for which no atonement
was in his mid-seventies and was in good is possible. A sense of ‘what if’ is pervasive
bodily and mental health. That evening in me even today.
I received a call from my younger sister,
who had come visiting them, only to be
told that my father had gone missing. Yes,
my father never returned home ever after.
My siblings and I and brothers-in-law
and sister-in-law went on frantic search
all over Mumbai, morgues, hospitals,
some outstation locations where he had
gone in the past, lodger police complaints,
announced his missing on television
channels, published missing notification More recently, the health of a good friend,
in publications, getting in touch with all under treatment for the dreaded C and
those whom he knew and whatever else reasonably stable for a couple of years,
we could think of. It bore no fruit; we recently took a turn for the worse with an
SENIORS TODAY | ISSUE #67 | JANUARY 2025 37
