What the heck? It's been so long. I
ran out of ideas. Probably. I lost passion. Maybe.
But I am back, and with a thud. I am
here to ascertain that indeed I am at the heart of a burgeoning enterprise of
words. Like those words that flow from the mouth of an orator so loved by his
subjects.
Well, that silence was so loud to
the extent that they became a sore to the ears. It is commonly good that I
apologise to my loyal audience for slumping into a tactical silence.
On the yester, something unfolded in
emphatic fashion. Something that'd possibly warrant this fanfare.
*********
In the wake of the morning, my phone went on with an
inexplicable chime. Excitedly, I pulled out of bed and stretching beyond a
diadem of clothes arraigned on the table, I reached for it. I was anxious, like
a cockerel on a hazy Christmas Eve. Outside, an orchestra of birds animated the
neighbourhood.
I peered through the lettering of
the message I had received as my hearth thumped.
“It’s a girl.” The message read. A
waft of emotion rocked me. Such good news calls for celebration.
“Congratulations.” I typed hurriedly
“A sigh of relief,” She responded
hastily. At this stage she must have gotten over the tantrums she had thrown
all night.
“It has been an incredulous leap of
faith,” she added.
“You rocked in those dresses,” I
tinkered.
“What with the sense of fashion
you’ve got helluva there.” She jostled a quick rejoinder.
“Have you any names in mind?” She
implored.
I sank in thought. All the names
that flew into my mind were names so obvious and I didn’t want my kindred to
doll her with repertoire when she comes of age.
“Are you there?” She startled my
session.
“Hold your horses yet.” I knacked one back. “I am thinking still.”
Silence.
I thought of the world and Utopia.
Still, I couldn’t find a suitable name.
Then a surreal thought came by.
Lately, I’ve been wanting a fresh start. I’ve been craving of a world wrapped
in peace and tranquility. A world free from tantrums and innuendos. One which
probably doesn’t exist.
In the next few minutes that followed, I found a suitable
name for a princess. The charm of my world.
“Let’s do this,” I broke the silence.
“Go on - I am all ears,” she replied.
“Nova is her name.”
And it was inked in the notification.
*******
Dear Nova,
I am writing this letter to express
my wishes and aspirations for a beauty of a princess you are. Words couldn’t
express my excitement. However, for a tabellion, words are a powerful source of
knowledge. I have read a couple hundred books and I have affirmed that we
indeed ‘live and breathe words’ as did Cassandra Clare of the Clockwork Prince fame opine.
As powerful
as they are, hold them fast and prize.
So Nova
dear, the world is turbulent like never before. As you will learn later, the
capitalistic ideals we have embroidered into our way of life makes it possible
for one man to eat another. I don’t know whether we will ever change our
approach to concerns of large aggregate like politics but I refuse to
completely run out of faith. For with faith, I’d believe without seeing.
And talking
of faith, I want to let you know that I do believe in you. I believe in your
ambitions and predilections. When you will have come of age, I will believe in
your judgement.
The world is
a meadow painted in the two faces; light and darkness. Always endeavour to
follow the light and good will come unto you as the Lord God instructs.
This
epistle, therefore, is an articulation of my profound affection for you. Someday, you will subjugate some mountains I
never would in my lifetime. I know, with an air of certainty, that your life
will be a success.
Need you be a doctor, an accountant,
a pilot, an actress, a song bird or anything you ever wanted, you have my
blessings. Sometimes when you get the time, read through my blogs. They are a
tableau of the life I have led over the past few years.
You will
improve on the heights I ever have surmounted. For the lows that I ever gagged
along, kindly desist from them. For if you refrain, you learn. And nothing
encapsulates the mind like having to book troves of wisdom. Wisdom of sage.
Nova, this
articulation is the most subtle of gifts you’d ever get from your father.
- Your father
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