My Father's Essay: The Way Of Life

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Take a moment to imagine all the people you have passed by in the hallways of a school or stood next to in the checkout line of a grocery store. Each of those people have a unique story that shaped them to become the person they are today. A simple decision to turn right instead of left, to sleep in on a Monday, to decline an invitation, or forget to pick up phone call. For a small boy in India, it was a sip of water that changed his entire life. The sun was shining as brightly as a rickshaw’s headlights. The wind carried dust, dirt, and the dump pedestrians left behind while taking their morning walks. Everyone in India walked, whether barefoot or with sandals. That was just the way of life: get up, walk, work, eat, and sleep. Similar to that was my life: walk, work, and sometimes eat and…show more content…
I was waiting for my father to arrive home from work. Unlike my relationship with my mother, I never needed my father for protection or comfort, I just wanted him to swing me in his arms and hold me tight as if I’m his proudest possession. It was a type of bond that was inexpressible yet unbreakable. Nevertheless, this night in particular, my father arrived home a bit later than expected. As soon as he stepped in, he requested for a bucket of water and began to gently sip. In a blink of an eye, my father began moaning of a stiff pain in his abdominal muscles. The pain hit him so hard I vividly remember his stubby hands clenching my mother’s hand tightly as if someone was dragging him away from her. While my oldest brother ran outside to alert our other relatives, my mother was comforting my father on the ground. A few relatives trampled in and surrounded my father all together like a pack of wolves do just as they are about to hunt down their prey. In fact, in my mind that was what happened, my relatives hunted my father down and closely examined his rashes before taking him to the hospital, away from
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