Dear Abu,

You’re not going to be here for Eid this year, but it’s okay. 

I understand that being a doctor can be demanding and it takes you away from us and Eid peh bhee, aap ko kaam karna parta hai. 

I do have to say there are a number of things that I will miss about you not being here.

We went to the bazaar yesterday to get our Eid Kurtas and saw this dad and son buying matching kurtas.

Dono blue thay. Your favorite color. Apki bohot yaad aayi. Aap jaldi se wapis aajayein please?

Mujhe pata hai, keh jo aap kar ray hai, wo achay keh liye kar ray hai. While I eat saiwayyan today, you will be in the Operation Theatre, helping someone who needs you. It warms my heart every time I think of you as their guardian angel. Someone who is looking out for them. Have I told you I’m so proud of you?

I’ll miss waking up in the morning and running to your room to wake you up for subah ki namaz. 

I understand that being a doctor can be demanding and it takes you away from us and Eid peh bhee, aap ko kaam karna par tha hai. It’s okay. Kyunkay dusron ki khidmat kernay walon ko sawaab milta hai. Aur aap tou dhair sara kama rahay hein.

We’ll miss how you go around from room to room, switching off the lights and fans while saying, “bijli ka bill apke abba deingay?”

Wesay, dena tou aap ne hee hota hai. Hehe. Okay, sorry.

Abu, you’re not spending Eid with us but I can’t wait till you’re back.

I went to your room and tried on some of your shirts today. I wanted to see how long it will take until we can start sharing clothes. They always smell like you. I stood in front of the mirror and fixed my hair like you do, just carelessly runnings my fingers through my forehead. The scissors you use to trim your mustache is there, too. I played around with it even though you’ve told me not to. When I grow up, I want to be just like you. I miss you.

I understand that being a doctor can be demanding and it takes you away from us and Eid peh bhee, aap ko kaam karna par tha hai.

Yeh sub aap auron ke bhallay keh liye aap kar rahay hai. Magar apki bohot yaad aati hai. 

You called to say “Eid Mubarak” over the phone and I miss you even more.

We got your eidi in envelopes. I looked at the curve of the “m’s” and recognized your handwriting. Magar mujhe tou aapse eidi ke liye larrna tha. I miss how you would always pretend you ran out of money before eid. “Meray saray paisay khatam hogaye eid ke kapron mein” and the way you give that crooked smile.

Today, I’ll go to the masjid and think of the time you “borrowed” a pair of chappals kyunkay aapki koi le gaya tha. And how you came all the way back to drop them off.

I’ll miss our larai for garam garam puri on the table. You telling me, “Sehi se chabba ke khaya karro”.  

Abu, you’re not spending Eid with us, but it’s okay.

I love you, abu. Eid Mubarak!

This post is sponsored by Wall’s.