I rode my bike straight to the rented villa where my roommates still resided. No one was home. I know where the key is. And like any other day opened the door, got in plopped me on the bean bag, plugged in the mobile in the common charger, turned on the music, and dozed off in a few minutes. After an hour or so one of my roommates got home. He made tea, woke me up, and offered it to me. We had tea, chatted for a while and then he went into his room and I started watching something on TV. I remember cracking the lamest of my jokes and him laughing back to all of em just to keep my heart. Whenever he laughed I could clearly see his swollen throat but to my every ‘dada, what’s that in your throat?’ there would be an ‘I have been eating too much lately’. Early next morning, my mom got a call from dad and I don’t know why but I just felt that dada was gone. I was too young to understand the concept of death but I knew for sure that he won’t be there anymore to hear any of my jokes. He was gone forever.
It’s been more than 7 years when he left us but all his memories are still so fresh in my mind. He was my favorite person and I was his, yes he used to say this to me, to my sister and cousins but he loved me more. Period. I don’t regret my last moments with him. I was almost always with him. I’d irritate him continuously by climbing onto his favorite antique sofa with shoes, or by buying candies and stuff on his account from the nearby shop. Also, I’d grab onto the main gate and use it as a swing, this one annoyed him the most. I had known Michelle since childhood. She was always a bit snobbish and was desperate to be part of the in-crowd in high school, but they wanted little to do with her, put off by her superior attitude. I never realized that she only hung out with me because she didn’t have anything else to do until after high school. We would make plans to hang out together, but if something better came along, she would ditch me. It was like everyone could see that she was a bad friend except for me.