Someone rightly said, “It takes eight minutes to know that we don’t have the sun”.  I am living that eight minute. I don’t want to outbrave that my father is no more. It’s been four years now, since he passed away but still I feel his presence in my life.

Though a usual father, he let me live my life. He often blasphemed me and blamed, but never told that I am good for nothing.He was too good to be a father, but behaved as a true friend.

I lived a comfortable life in a belief that somewhere in earth, my father was there. Today, I am helpless. After four years, I am going home. I wish my father, opening the gate, scolding me –I am late!