Story Writes: Saiful Islam Rokon
Dad,
You know I can not read this letter. Or are you? how are you ? Want to know too much. Nowadays you miss me too much. How hard is it for us to do Did you give anything in return? I could not. I know, you do not even expect anything from us. If you leave your heart full of pride, do not return to the country. The day you are wearing white shroud, I cried a lot. Were crying crying. What was it like to give you without the crying or did that day? Kannataku today's father for you Do not see you today. We have become very corporate, we have See, your unqualified boy could not stand up to your grave at your first death anniversary. Life is too much helpless parents
I remember how many times you were comforted by tapping your chest sticks to see your painful face in death bed. A monstrous monster named Cancer has grabbed you from us. I remember when you had time to take a chemotherapy, you did not do it, you would wake up everyone, you were looking for more, especially Faisal, because Faisal could get you sitting in the wheel chair for the first time. You remember, when you did not want to eat medicines And when Mom complained to me that your father did not eat the medicine exactly, then how much would I have said, what would we do if something happened to you? I still do not understand that I will leave this way soon. I remember today morning, when I went to make a soup for you at the hospital and when the mother was eating soup, she was eating soup like a baby boy silently I did not even understand, that was your last meal. You know when you were leaving the last sleep, and when your mother was tired of seeing tears Here on the side of darkness seemed paratechila And just one more thing, it seems everything is going to end with a child, lost to journeymen phelateche last thing in the world.
Believe me, my father, maybe peace on that day
Believe me, my father, on that day I will get peace, the day I lie down beside you, I can tell you, I love you, I love you so much that I did more than work my father did more than respect. He never dared to speak in his eyes, did not dare to speak in his eyes, and whatever he had said, the law was to our brothers and sisters. There are many fun memories of their father. Like going to the fair on the shoulders of their father, walking around the streets for the father's fingers, etc. I do not have all these things. Haiyatoba was a memory that was in my mind. Even I said, how much love could have ever been to my father. Neither father nor father had any idea of how much love was there. But some memories still shine in front of the eyes. The memories are only bababaya.
Dad, Dad, how many more ways can you address your birthbadara.But I want very much to urinate, father! And father! Abba. It is in this post that all the world's peace is there. Usually girls have more love for the girls. The chicks are less than that. The ropes do not dare to say anything to their father. They have the courage to tell their mother or anything they want. We do not get the answer. The boys are usually afraid of the baba. Sometimes the story can not be written about who is the real experience. The mother of all the boys But my case is different than the love of my father's love, respect, reverence, respect, more work, why? For some reason I do not know, maybe his answer is only from God.
Do not forget that the blue water of the love is hidden in the depths of the mind, you have forgotten everything, all the troubles have been removed. Do not remember anything. You do not want to keep it. Because you father. My writing about you will not end, Dad. It is not possible to be captured in this paper. It may not be written or written. You may not need to write it. Because, I am a father. Rei's father.
This letter may not reach you either. I mean, I can not send. Be yourself. Maybe read it again and again. And I will tell many times without crying weeping crying