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March 15, 2017
March 15, 2017
Dear Dada,

I am writing to you because I don't know where you are, I would like to think in a happy place. Knowing you, you are probably smoking a cigar in the company of Faraz Uncle and Mansoor Uncle. If you were still around I would probably just call you up, that's what I did the last time I was feeling low and you always had a way to make me feel better either through a joke or through something wise. And you had a way of giving advise or delivering a tell off without being condescending and without making the other person feel small. You always said "Maria mein batayun ghusay ko control karna chaheyay." Even though you had lost your speech when I was yelling at the Doctors for not bringing your breakfast on time your eyes were saying the same thing. Our daily phone calls never let me be homesick in a country so far away and I don't know what I will do without them. When my phone would ring around 6:30/7:00 I would know it's my Dada calling. And whats strange is that I was never at a loss for words. We had so much to talk about, Isloo gossip, religion, politics and food. Right now I am feeling so much that I don't think I can be comprehensive. I just hope you knew how much I admired you and how proud I am was to be your granddaughter although you always introduced me as your daughter living with Mahwish and Shiekhoo.

Will love you always,

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