I remember...

  • wishing Dad 'Goodnight' and how he would wish me back. I remember my voice. I remember his.
  • pestering Dad to tell me stories at bedtime. He would be awfully tired, yet would never refuse me my wish. He had few stories to tell, but his inimitable style held me spellbound.
  • asking Dad to narrate stories from magazines he bought for me. I loved the way he would infuse life into the written word.
  • being so awed by Dad's personality, I decided to mirror his tastes and opinions. His disposition was of paramount importance to me. Aligning my feelings with his wasn't difficult.
  • deliberately hurting Dad on many an occasion. He loved me enough to let me hate him.
  • Dad winding the antique clock religiously on Sunday nights. I looked in bewilderment at his precision.
  • Dad rubbing his cheeks against mine.
  • Dad telling me how short life is. He told me how I would have to ond day perform his last rites. He really made me cry.
  • walking down the grassy sidewalk alongside Dad, holding his finger.
  • going to nursery for the first time with Dad. I cried the whole day for him.
  • sitting on Dad's lap in the bus. I would prefer sitting with him by my side. But when someone needed space to sit, Dad would promptly place me on his lap, making way for the other guy. How I hated him when he did that!
  • listening to the vintage radio with Dad beside me. We would be secluded in our room bathed gently by the golden streaks of the tiny pair of bulbs inside the tuner. Light also leaked from the vents on the hind-side, creating a beautiful pattern on the wall. The glow is lost forever. For many years I believed we had the best radio in the world. Perhaps I wasn't wrong.
  • going to the terrace with Dad at night to track the planetary motions and recognize a few more constellations.
  • slipping my tiny feet into Dad's heavy boots after he returned from the factory...and soiling the floor. Dad wouldn't miss the spectacle for the world.
  • endlessly discussing so many subjects and ideas with him. I would often disagree with many of his views, yet he was never irked. He gave me wings to fly, knowing they would one day take me away from him.
  • Dad often saying how I was the most precious thing in his life. He was the most precious thing to me as well, though I never articulated.
  • Dad thanking me for even the most trivial things (like bringing a glass of water) I ever did for him. I hardly thanked him.
  • being so fiercely possessive, I locked away many things I loved (including books, an electric torch and even the family magnifying glass!) into a rusty old trunk. Even Dad wasn't allowed access to them, but he never complained. Luckily, I realised how selfish I was being and soon threw it open and granted access to all my beloved possessions to everyone. That's how I got first-hand experience of the joys of sharing!
  • Dad gently placing the blanket over me as I tried to sleep but felt cold.
  • asking Dad to buy me anything that caught my fancy. When he sometimes couldn't, he would sadly express how guilty he felt. I understood and lessened my demands. Really, all that I ever needed was Dad.
  • so many things that I'm sure will gradually fade into oblivion under the continued assault of time.
  • never believing in God. God just wasn't great enough to be better than my Dad. And Dad was for real.
  • Dad predicting I would not be by his side when his moment finally came. He was right.

I'll remember tears flooding me eyes time & again as I typed this post.

Comments

Anonymous said…
expressed from the core of the heart ,
precious write up of important feelings ,
theres a point in life where things change , people go but they always remain imbibed in hearts .
Prateek said…
My eyes are moist...
Deeps my skype id is meprateek and yahoo chat is offlineprateek. get in touch. bye

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