Missing you dad

I am feeling sad, pappa. Life is tough. 

I know you cannot read this, but I don't know how to get it out of my mind. I don't know who will listen and who I can burden with, with my thoughts which keep recurring time to time when I am facing challenges.

You were such a stable support for me through my childhood. You never let me be beat up by my insecurities and inferiority complex. You raised me, actually all your daughters to be fighters. You made sure that if push comes to shove, we will manage it. You never stopped me or let me take no for an answer for whichever direction I set my sails to. 

It is surprising that most of my life I never even had a thought like - What if I do this and fail? What if I have no one to help me? I failed only a few times and failed a few times badly.  You kept me going and in your own traditional ways found means for me to rise up again. 

Remember Engineering Mechanics? Passi sir? SEED institute? Shorter height meant I was behind in many sports and my class could have bullied me...but you made me so so mentally strong that no one could even dare. 

You once told me that height is not important to be successful. You wanted me to be a collector. I went in engineering. You said join Infy when I had a campus offer. I wanted to study post-grad. People around us said that I was mad to let go of such a good offer. Mom thought that the only software company in the world was Infosys. You arranged money from a private lender, which was so heartbreaking. I took a loan next year, but never realized that you never even asked me the first year money back! And I could have done so much more to return your favour before I was married. 

When the whole world said that I cannot drive a car cause I might not be able to reach the pedels, you, being a quality officer in Central Government Vehicle Ordanance, said that it is simply not true. You said I should learn it anyway and then find a car that suits me. And I did! You always said to me that you can always sit relaxed while I was driving.    

While other kids were busy playing and watching TV (local channels), you wanted us to learn English so we were the only ones who had all English channels, US and UK movies CDs and music and novels. You made me take Coding, typing, Public speaking, debates and were proud of the fact that I was doing well there. And how could I forget the books! From DC and Marvel comic books - no one in our whole town knew those back then, when I had a huge set - to Agatha Christie and Sherlock Holmes novels... and later to Engineering reference books. All was paid by you dearly, and without a word. How did you manage pappa? How did you have the money in your government job salary? Didn't you feel somewhere that I should avoid buying all this!

Strong though you made me, today I feel so lonely sometimes. Things are not all glittery and glamourous all the while. You would have wanted me to stand up and deal with it with vigour. But I think I do not have that support anymore.  I break down sometimes thinking that if you'd be here, you'd say, "It's ok. Do this, or do it like that.", and I would have either argued with you or listened to you. At least I was heard.

Today, so many months after your passing, I think no one can fill that void. When I notice any gray haired old man with his daughter or a son passing by, I think they have the world with them yet.  They are still young, small, someone's kid, someone's kid who can ask questions, make mistakes, cry in their laps, get up and dance again. When a parent is lost, no matter what your age is, you are no longer a child. You are a grown up and have to act like one. 

I will meet you one day dad and cry a lot for not letting me take care of you more while you were sick. I will scold you for leaving us so soon. I will say sorry cause I was not understanding enough or soft spoken enough. 

I will never leave you again. Someday. 

 

 

 

Quick, cross your fingers, it’s the mail van!

Childhood. I wish I could go back to those days, or at least see them as a movie on a projector screen. I want to remember small things I did back then.

My mom still remembers her childhood. She had 7 siblings and they stayed in a joint family of another 4 siblings with their parents. Some days were good, some were bad. In a good phase they got to cook what they want, got clothes stitched during Diwali, got chappals to wear, etc. The other days they were not so lucky. Yet, whenever she recollects her childhood, there is a spark in her eyes, saying, “Amcha lahanpana sarkha anandi lahanpan konacha nasel. Asa vatata ki parat lahan vhava, Akka swayampak karat disavi ani amhi khelat rahavot!” (“No one might have had a happy childhood like ours. I feel like becoming a kid again, to see my mother cooking in the kitchen, and to play with my sisters.”). She called her mom ‘Akka’.

 She once told me that whenever they saw a mail van (Red van by Indian Postal Office) or a Fire engine, they crossed their fingers. It meant that they would get “Khau (Sweets)” when they got back home in the evening. Actually even I and my friends believed this during our school days. We crossed our fingers when we saw the red van, however we rarely thought of looking for sweets when we got back home. It was different back then for my mom, as her parents barely made ends meet. Some days she did get a surprise and felt good for remembering to cross her fingers.

Come to think of it, what does that van have to do with sweets? It brought letters from relatives and loved ones far off – carrying good news and updates. People might be distributing sweets on hearing from them. And so the custom.

Nowadays we don’t crave for sweets so much, as we keep buying them whenever we want to. Also, these Red Post Office vans have become so rare, with the surge of internet, emails, phones, etc. that we have forgotten that they ever existed!

But then today, while coming to the office, I happened to see this red van going merrily on its way. I crossed my fingers on a sudden reflex, without thinking what I was doing. After a few minutes I told Yogesh that we are going to get sweets today evening, because we saw the van! He might have assumed that it was yet another whimsical thought of mine, and kept driving ahead.


So, will I get sweets today?