*a prayer for the wild at heart, kept in cages

Almost a love story?

As rain poured relentlessly down from the heavens, my heart weighed down guiltier by the moment. My father was out, stuck presumably at his nearest shelter, unable to return home.

He did not bring an umbrella; he had overlooked the chance of an afternoon shower. My father refused my help, saying that he would wait till the rain had simmered down. I hung up relieved, yet guilty. But the shower soon became a thunderstorm & I had to find him. Afterall what are daughters for?

I grabbed my oldest pair of slippers, the ones with no discernible grooves left. I preferred to slip & fall than to wreck a better pair of shoes. The rain was awful. It did not matter that I carried an umbrella, I was drenched.

He was at the pau dian (Chinese bakery). A 5-minute walk became a 10 minute journey in the rain.

But he was not there. I was dismayed. I searched for him with patient anxiety, as parents search for their children in supermarkets. He wasn’t anywhere in the neighbourhood. I was dismayed.

He must be home.

And he was.

It was just like it was in Tian Mi Mi.

Somehow I wished I found him, I wished we had walked home together under the too-small umbrella, I wished we had enjoyed a rare father&daughter moment.

But it wasn’t to be. Under the roar of a late March downpour, I did not find him.