Recap: We meet the narrator in a physiatrist hospital. The narrator is suffering from a delusional disorder. He claims to be a demi-god who has walked the earth since the beginning of time looking for his wife. The narrator seeks forgiveness from his daughter for abandoning her.
Baby please don’t go
I often wonder what did your mother tell you about me.
I have a few theories.
- I was a degenerate addict who died of an overdose.
- A lying womanizer who ran away with one of his mistresses
- A delusional person who was unbearable to be with.
All of these are so acutely adjusted to my personality that I couldn’t agree less.
But I will wait for my day of judgment with you.
Do you know we have met before?
Yes, we have. We have indeed.
You were seven years old then.
A fresh little marble statue.
You wore a frock. It was yellow in color with tiny flowers painted over it.
Your two pigtails and those long socks added to your charm.
You looked like a garden fairy.
Oh, the luminescence!
Oh, the radiance!
The entire cosmos was smiling at your innocence.
I sat at a distance watching you play, chase butterflies, trample a few flowers, and then feeling sorry for them—what a kind person.
I couldn't believe your mother, and I made someone like you.
You were unadulterated beauty. If beauty had a benchmark if goodness had a benchmark, wonder had a benchmark, it must end at you.
You seemed like a pinnacle of hope in this cancerous world.
I admired you for long before your curious wandering eyes met me.
I pretended I didn’t notice.
I had a notepad next to me. I began to write with much difficulty.
You came dragging your feet behind you.
You asked,’ what are you writing, young man.’
‘Oh, I am writing a letter to my daughter, dear young girl.’
‘I am not a girl. I am a lady.’
‘Oh, my apologies, dear lady. How are you this fine evening?’
‘I am well. I need to go. Please tell me what you are writing in such terrible handwriting.’
‘Oh yes, I am not too educated. Will you write it for me?’
You took few seconds before answering, ‘Yes, I will write it for you,‘ you said with a gleam in your eyes. You took a pause and said,
‘And will you also allow me to use my Royal seal to seal the letter?’
‘Oh yes, of course, I will. I didn’t know you were a princess, Her Highness!’
‘Not really, it’s just what my mother calls me. I don’t have a kingdom anymore.’
‘Whoa, despite that, you are such a poised lady, your highness.’
‘Yes, well, I am royal.
You had mischief in your eyes. You were so proud—such a darling.
‘If I may ask, what happened to your kingdom?’
‘I am not sure. My mother never tells me. She says my father drank it away. I never understood how could someone drink a kingdom away.’
‘Did you ask your father?’
‘I will try someday when I meet him. He hasn’t visited yet. But I feel he will eventually, and then I will tell you all about my kingdom.’
You took a pause and said. ‘Well, you meet me again, dear mister. You seem like a charming fella! Okay, then hurry up. Tell me what do you want to say to your daughter and I will write it quickly. Then seal it, and I will be off. Mother will be coming soon.’
You are growing up so fast. Soon, you will no longer need a father. I don’t want that to happen. I once wanted to become the world’s best lover. I failed at that miserably. Then I decided I could still become the world’s greatest husband. I didn’t do a good job at that either. Finally, when you were born, I made a promise to be the best father. I haven’t even come close yet.
All I am is an absent father.
I want you to know that there is a reason I don’t come to meet you.
Suddenly, a coarse voice shouted from a distance.
‘Mary, dear Mary, where are you?’
That coarse voice was once the voice of a nightingale. Oh, what time does to beauty! It is despicable.
‘I must go. Mother is calling me. I am not allowed to talk to strangers.’
You said, nearly throwing the letter at me in a hurried manner. And then you hopped away like a little bunny.
I saw you running and hugging your mother. She never noticed me.
You turned back a few times before waving a final goodbye
We have met before. Hope you remember; you do. I know you do.
Dear daughter, I hope you get to read this someday and forgive this old man for being a terrible father.