Remember two years ago, I was waiting for my tenth standard results, and I had promised you I’d get 80% even though I was all alone here, when you were in the hospital and mum was with you, I studied. I tried.
And then you came back home, your right side was paralysed and you couldn’t speak. The date of the result was announced, and so mum, you and I sat, expectantly in front of the computer to see how much I’d got. I got 78% and I wept, because I couldn’t keep up my promise, I disappointed you. You patted my shoulder, as if reassuring me, it’s okay.
Today, two years later. My results are coming out on the 25th and it’s going to be only mum and me sitting expectantly in front of the computer to see how much I scored. You won’t be there, you won’t be there to hug me and tell me it’s okay, no matter how much I’ve scored, I’ve done well.
I just don’t want to disappoint you again. I want you to have a reason to feel proud, to feel proud of your daughter, your blood.