IN LOVING MEMORY OF

Oh dear!
That doesn’t sound nice or even closer to what or how to call you.Tell me oh my sleeping beauty how can I address you? What a pity,what an unpardonable shame,A father asking his unborn or still born or a transiently born and lost for ever DAUGHTER,how to call her since he never had a chance to name her, neither had he the time to see her beautiful,snow white face lightened up by that divine all embracing smile,long enough to remember for the rest of his life.What sin has he done to warrant such a punishment?But why why why had that angel been snatched away from his hands even before he could smile back at her with love .Had he kissed her chubby cheeks? ,he never remembered .Did I love her?,he never knew. But I KNOW ONE THING FOR SURE –He had willed or rather pleaded or prayed with all known and unknown Gods for her DEATH. Yes I am forced to confess that fact and reiterate that he had’nt done that for a fleeting second but for 24 hours continuously he had tried his level best to convince all the Deities to take her back to the paradise where she ought to live or rule and as if in a miracle his prayers were heard and the boon was granted .Why did he commit this murder of a charming one week wonder that great gift of God he will rew till date exactly 23 yrs back.
How much he yearned to hold her in his lap tickling her hair and lullabying her to sleep and just watching her in her delightful sleep with that enchanting universal smile playing hide and seek in that captivating face of hers .How he wanted to dress her up in tiny little frocks and tie those curly pitch black luxuriant hair.How can my daughter be so beautiful .Yes I would have taught her dancing and inturn would be dancing to her commands.He would have enjoyed teasing her to tears and kiss her tears away .He had no chance to be amused over her tantrums and to fetch the moon and throw it at her tiny feet.. I would have suffocated her in a mount of diamonds and emeralds and would cry in joy seeing her throwing those carbon stones over that pond over there watching those waves rippling around them her little hands clapping wildly in joy .He would be waiting for her to return from the school with her small back saddled by the school bag her tiny face tired and sleepy, yet running to embrace him cooying “APPA”,those murmurs echoing sweetly in his ears .
Memories are short but yet they have a dirty habit of rearing their heads up once in a while at short notice and ushering in that throbbing little ache which sometimes is agonizingly PLEASANTFUL at the same time a wild elation of SADNESS giving solace to the mind. Yet how could I have killed my child ?