Indu first noticed her father's forgetfulness in small, everyday things - misplacing his shoes and leaving his wallet in unusual places. At seventy-two, she dismissed it as a natural part of aging. But the day he hesitated to recall his brother's name, a shadow of confusion crossing his face, Indu knew something was wrong. She took him to the doctor, where she learned that her father had Alzheimer's disease.

Her father had served in the army, though he never spoke of what he had endured during those years. When he returned, he wasn't the same man who had left - his laughter and warmth had been replaced by an unsettling silence, as if the weight of his experiences had buried his spirit. For Indu, it felt like she had lost her father not when he went to serve but when he returned.

After her mother passed away during her teenage years and her brother moved away to build his own life, Indu stayed behind. She tried to find love but could never hold on to it for more than a year. Eventually, she stopped trying. When her father returned, she took charge of caring for him, even though his distant presence offered nothing in return - not even the smallest expression of affection she so desperately craved.

His favorite routine was the weekly trip to the grocery store. After learning about his Alzheimer's, Indu tried to stop him from going out alone, but he never listened. To prepare for the worst, she gave him everything in writing - the address, her phone number, and her name - just in case, even though he hadn't reached that stage yet.

Like clockwork, on Saturday morning, he left for the grocery store. But this time, Indu noticed something unsettling: the shirt with the written note was still hanging on the hook. He had worn a different shirt and left without it. Panic set in as she immediately drove to the grocery store, but he wasn't there.

Trying to remain calm, she decided to drive around nearby streets, hoping to spot him. But he was nowhere to be found. Returning home in desperation, she rifled through his diary to find any useful contacts, but there were none. Her worry grew unbearable, and she finally called her brother, only to find he wasn't available.

After waiting anxiously for twenty-four hours, Indu called the police. They completed the formalities, took his photograph, and assured her they would do their best to find him.

She knew it was her fault. She had left two shirts on the hooks, and deep down, she knew she had wanted him to wear the other shirt - the one without the note. The guilt was unbearable. Falling to her knees before God, she begged for forgiveness. She cried, pleading for her father's safe return.

At that moment, she realized how much she needed her life back. Her father's pension and her teaching job had been enough for them, yet she had still been searching for something more - something she couldn't even define. Now, even the one job she still had felt impossible to focus on. She hadn't realized that caring for her father had been the only truly meaningful thing she was doing. No matter what, she wanted him back.

The phone rang, and her brother's name flashed on the screen. But as she confronted the guilt and turmoil within her, she realized she wasn't ready to talk to him. She let the call go unanswered. There was still no word from the cops.

A week passed, and Indu didn't change her routine, holding on to the hope that her father would return and find everything as it was. She decided to go to the grocery store, just as he used to. Two Saturdays came and went, but nothing. On the third Saturday, she found herself back in the store. She moved slowly through the aisles, her steps heavy, as if each item required more effort than the last. Her hands reached for things mechanically, barely lifting the things she needed, her mind elsewhere.

Meanwhile, she heard the giggle of a child. She turned around and stared at the child, saying nothing. The boy seemed to be counting something as he looked at the trolley. Again, she glanced at him but said nothing.

Just then, the boy's mother approached and noticed him bothering her. She apologized, saying, "I'm sorry if he caused any nuisance."

Indu softly said, "That's fine." After they left, she heard the child's words: "Mom, did you see that Aunty and the man next to her bought the same stuff? Exactly the same thing."

Her heart stopped. She first looked into the trolley next to her. The child was right - the items were identical. Then, She looked at the man - there, in front of her, stood her father.

She dropped to her knees and cried uncontrollably.