His story

The dream I had transported me to a different time and place, back to my childhood when my father, a dedicated freedom fighter, was both a hero and a loving parent. His unwavering commitment to our nation often took him away from our family, but his homecomings were nothing short of grand celebrations and he always cherished Mom and me. We were his entire world and the love he held for my mother and I knew no bounds. His life was a lesson in selfless service and devotion to others.

But on one fateful day, he set out for a battle, just like many other days. Little did he know it would be his last. The news of victory and the dawn of independence filled our hearts with joy, but it was silenced for us in the heavy absence of my father. He never returned home. His sacrifice for our country's freedom remains etched deeply in our hearts, a deep reminder of the many heroes who laid down their lives bravely for the nation and its people. My father's legacy continues to inspire, and his selfless spirit should never be in vain. I promised myself to follow in his footsteps if given the chance.

Before leaving for that final battle, my father had made a heartfelt promise that he would return to take me to the Ferris wheel, a tradition we upheld whenever he was home. Little did I know then that this promise would go unfulfilled. I wouldn't have let him go if I knew it was his last battle and the last Ferris wheel ride we had would be our very last as well. I often dreamt as a child of waiting at the door, dressed in my finest attire, eagerly anticipating his return. I'd sit there, growing drowsy as I waited, eventually drifting off at the doorstep, all the while hoping for his safe homecoming. The Ferris wheel rides and those dreams were a testament to our unbreakable bond, one that not even a war could sever.

I used to be deeply affected by this unfulfilled dream, harboring a profound longing and anger because I missed my father. Although we had few shared memories, I felt in my heart that we were meant to have more. Watching other children play happily with their fathers in the parks, sharing meals, and cherishing all those special father-child moments was particularly tough for me. Growing up without a father's presence was a challenge, and I often yearned for those experiences, wishing for a chance to create cherished memories together. Yet, it remained an unattainable dream, and the absence of a father figure created a void no one else could quite fill, leaving me feeling even more empty as I witnessed the bonds others had.

However, something changed in me after that vivid dream. In it, my father had returned, and we shared a special moment at the Ferris wheel. The only difference was that I was no longer a child; instead, we had deep, meaningful conversations on our way back. Upon waking, I missed him terribly, but this time, I felt something different. I understood him more profoundly, grasping the immense struggle he must have faced when forced to choose between family and country. He yearned for a better life for us, one filled with freedom and opportunities. He knew that my mother and I would be pillars for each other, and he bravely embarked on the path of sacrifice, living alone far above in the boundless blue skies. He assured me he was in a better place and was taken care of by angels well. I wonder how much it meant for him, how much he missed me that he had to come and visit me in my dream.

Today, I understand my father better than ever before, and I hold the utmost respect for him. I see him as a person, not just a hero, and I acknowledge his contribution to saving countless lives. I wish I could share these feelings with Niveditha, but after hearing her own story, I couldn't bear to disappoint her. So, I decided to pen down my thoughts in my diary.

Dear Diary,

I used to resent my father for taking away my childhood, and for being absent when I needed him most. I felt that he robbed me of precious moments. But as I've grown older, I've come to realize that his sacrifice, his devotion to the nation, allowed countless other children to experience the joys of a carefree childhood. He was brave, not just for his commitment to the country, but also for leaving his family behind, knowing he would never return.

All those days I cried, feeling the weight of his absence, I now know that the heavens themselves wept with us. For every scar I bore, for every word that hurt, for every difficulty I faced, there were eyes watching us, filled with dire helplessness. Those who claimed that a single seed couldn't grow into a mighty tree underestimated the impact my father had. It wasn't just about him; it was about all those he touched with his sacrifices.

Today, as I watch other families, I no longer feel jealousy or sadness. I realize that they are happy because of his sacrifice. My father is my hero, and I hope that one day, I can be a hero to my child.

I made a big mistake by thinking only of my own pain and not considering what my father went through. I was selfish and foolish. When he had to leave us, he must have felt a lot of pain, both in his body and in his mind. I can't imagine how hard it must have been for him. Not being able to see his family one last time must have hurt him more than anything. My dad was strong and brave, like a warrior. But deep down, he was just like any other person. He had to leave his family, and it must have been incredibly painful for him. It's important to remember that even strong people have feelings, and my dad had to make a very difficult choice. He sacrificed being with us, and that must have been one of the hardest things he ever did.

Mother has already experienced the pain and hardship that I felt today. She knew the odds, but she stood by him, supported him, and loved him. Her love is greater than anything I can imagine. I will make sure to take care of her, as she took care of me. (I couldn't help but write a poem about my father)

I resented him for taking away my childhood...

until I realized he actually helped kids have a childhood...

if fighting for the country is brave...

then leaving your family knowing that you won't ever come back is braver...

All those days I cried...

the heavens cried too...

For every scar I encountered...

For every word that hurt...

For every difficulty I felt...

There were eyes in dire helplessness...

For all those who said a seed alone cannot become a tree...

the impact he had is much more than that...

Today, as I go and look at people, I won't feel jealous...

I won't be sad anymore...

Because I know, they are happy because of his sacrifice...

My father is my hero and hopefully day I become my child's too...!

Thank you, dear Diary, for always being there to listen.

Yours,

Mohan