Father's Last Letter

Story Title: "Father said I'd be back soon... but eleven years passed" I was only eight years old when Father, as he was leaving home, placed his hand on my head and smiled, saying: "Son, it's just a matter of a few months... then I'll be back." At that time, I didn't know that some "few months" can consume an entire childhood. Our house was small, but full of happiness. Father worked in a factory. The income wasn't much, but it was enough to keep the home running and allow us to dream. Then one day the factory closed. The household's circumstances began to change. Mother sold her jewelry. Father looked for a job in many places, but found no success. Finally, a relative advised him to go abroad. Father thought a lot. He didn't want to go, but perhaps some fathers think more about their children's future than their own wishes. On the day he left, I clung to him and wept. "Father, when will you come back?" He looked into my eyes and said: "I'll be back soon, son. You'll see, when I return, I'll bring you lots of toys." I laughed. Little did I know that I would spend the next eleven years living on the strength of those very words. For the first few months, Father's calls kept coming. Every time he would say, just a little more time. Then the calls became less frequent. Then they started coming months apart. Then only on Eids. And then... One day the calls stopped coming altogether. Mother would always say: "Your father is fine. He must just be very busy." I would believe it. Years passed. I grew older. My friends would go to the market with their fathers, take pictures, seek advice. And I? I just kept waiting. Sometimes I would look at the door, sometimes at the phone. Every Eid, while putting on new clothes, the same thought would come to my mind: perhaps Father would come this time. But he didn't come. One day I asked Mother: "Has Father forgotten us?" Hearing this, Mother immediately left the room. It was the first time I had seen her crying secretly. Time kept passing. I reached university. By now, waiting had become a habit. Then one night there was a knock at the door. It was eleven o'clock at night. When I opened the door, a strange man was standing in front of me. He had an old bag in his hand. He asked my name. I nodded yes. He extended the bag towards me. "This is your father's trust." A shock ran through my body. "Where is my father?" The man's eyes lowered. And the next few words changed my entire world. "Your father passed away eleven years ago." My breath caught. The bag fell from my hand. I looked at him in disbelief. "This is a lie..." But the man remained silent. Then he explained that Father had been in an accident abroad. He had no close relatives there, nor anyone who could immediately inform the family. Years passed amidst paperwork and complex circumstances. But before he died, he had entrusted a bag to his friend and said: "If you ever manage to reach my family, give this entrusted item to them." With trembling hands, I opened the bag. Inside were a few clothes. An old watch. And a letter. I opened the letter. It read: "My dear son... If you are reading this letter, then perhaps I could not return to you. I am sorry I couldn't fulfill my promise. But believe me... I never forgot you. I lived every day for you. With every breath, I worried about you. If I couldn't return, take care of your mother. And never think that your father abandoned you. I merely stopped on the way." The last words of the letter were blurred. Perhaps they were soaked with tears. For the first time, I understood that some fathers don't leave home... They lose themselves in search of a better future for their children. And some waits don't end... They just become memories. If this story has touched your heart, then perhaps you are also among those who understand the feelings hidden behind words. To read more such true, emotional, and heartwarming stories, install the "Islamic Tube Pro" app. Because here, every story is not just read... it is felt.

• Anas Memon Palanpuri