DaddyDaughter-hood!

Recently came across some beautiful illustrations by Soosh, and this one is my absolute favourite.

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you can find more of her amazing work at http://vskafandre.com/app/#/home

I spent my childhood in a small town of Arunachal Pradesh. Life was different in there! Happiness was not a concept! I felt it in me, day in and day out. And there was a special love-affair that I had with my father.

Sudden and long power-cuts used to call for “extreme joy” ( for me at least) as that was our time for the great hand puppet show. With the glimmering light of a candle kept at a distance, I, with my father formed all sorts of animals and birds on the walls! They looked so real to me. He would whistle tunes of songs and asked me to guess the names..I did a great job there, just that, could never catch up with his whistling skills.

I was very mindful about my time with my Dad. Few things were customary for us to do together!

Who goes to the post office with him?

“Me”.

Who accompanies him to the bank?

“Me”.

No one else washes his car with him.

“Only Me”.

Who taught me how to check if the eggplant that you were buying from the market had worms ?!

“My Dad”

What do you do, every year, in December?

“Go to the card shop with my father and buy greeting cards for friends and family”

And a slightest of change in the pattern would break my heart!

 

I picked up a lot of things from my father…all good ,bad and ugly. Some things that I am thankful and proud of. I have always seen him, trying, before saying- ” No, I can’t or It’s not possible”. He tried, and tried again. And most of the times it was a triumphant victory.

I try to follow suit and repeat, “Never say never!” And with time, I have realized, it indeed makes your journey a little easier to walk with this thought or belief!

With all the love and mush also came tough punishments. Poor scores (always, always in Maths) would call for heavy scolding and not talking. I used to be extremely sad with this ‘no-talking’ business. But that never helped me in going beyond the dislike towards the subject and study harder! So, the scores were pretty much consistent and also the silence from time to time.

P.S:Physics and Chemistry were the other two super villains of that time, but definitely after the Messy-Maths!

We broke our hush by writing letters to each other…which turned into sophisticated emails, with time. We poured our hearts out there. And slowly it became very awkward to not run for a bone-crushing hug. Definitely we missed each other soooooo much.

My father had (still has) a black notebook in which he wrote things that interested him. He also added some interesting recipes in it… Paneer bahaar, Kebabs, Rezala and Paratha, Momos, Kadhai chicken (I, at least know the names by heart).

Every time, we expected guests at home (almost every weekend), I saw him open that book and read out loud the ingredients to our help, who would help him in the prep-work. And, I would intently watch the entire show and soak in the aroma of the lovely spices. For Mutton Roganjosh, he would stand still, right in front of the pot and add milk to the meat with a tablespoon, one at a time. He would follow the recipe impeccably. And he would give it a final stir and say, “Fatafati hoeche, bujhli” (It has come out awesomely, you know). And that twinkle in his eyes *hearts*

My father lost his dad, when he was just 3 months old. He has always told me, how he saw other’s fathers and had an image of a perfect father in his mind. He tried his best to be that PERFECT father for us. And he surely did a good job.

A beautiful movie, a soulful song, a good read…I can only think of my Dad as one of my best partners, when we both have our share of good cry, a mad laugh, a clown-like act, a serious face, a dirty fight, a super ego clash, a silent sob, a loud call….Babaaaaa 🙂

The person who helped me know my knees, who treated me as his special baby and at times…became a child himself, who is trustful, heroic yet a pile of Love…I call him my Father. All I know is, wherever I end up in life, not a bit is going to change between us.

Here’s to the beginning Baba,

feeling good?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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