Baba

My bond with my dad, well, I can’t really say that it is the most special , unique relationship, because it is a normal one.
 He knows that I love him and it is the same other way round. It’s just hard for us to really show it. But there is this one incident that really signifies what a father-son bond stands for.
I broke my hand, bad, back when I was 13. After one failed manipulation attempt,surgery was imminent.
I remember going into the surgery, a friendly nurse smiling at me, people in scrubs, huge light above me. And once the vial of anesthetic was injected, I remember nothing. I remember nothing except waking up all groggy.
It was a few days after the surgery that the stories of my anesthetic laced frenzy started to surface.People said I woke up crying and was calling out for someone.
I thought I would’ve called out for mother. To my surprise, I had called out for Baba.
Also, what surprised me more, was the fact that my dad cried before I went into the OT. Dad never cries. Never.
That, to me was a symbol of how deeply emotional our bond was.A father son duo is really not one to show emotions on the surface, and hence can be mistaken to be a brittle one.But what people can’t see is that these are two people who carry the weight of responsibilities, and have far too less time to invest in emotions.But the relationship to them is one of understanding. It is a bond stronger than any other, in wonderfully many ways.
And the fact that we don’t show emotions too much is indicative of the pillar of the family. One that has been doing it for years, and one who is going to. Sentimental, yet strong and firm. I want be like my Baba. Without a shadow of a doubt.

I am writing about #MyRoleModel as a part of the activity by Gillette India in association with BlogAdda.com.

Ways of Life

*June 15th, 1982*
Tumko Dekha toh yeh khayal aaya.
The new Jagjit Singh gem set the mood at the Chai shop, when I saw her again.
My word! Isn’t she just breathtaking?
She stood at the Bus Depot, flawless, serene, simple. I gawked at her until Mahesh Bhai reminded me that my Irani tea was going cold. But what else could I do? She was beyond any other girl. Mahesh Bhai deduces that either I have Alzheimer’s or I’m in love. I too think that the Alzheimer’s thing is true, love sounds too crazy.I should talk to her, maybe.”

*Dec 28th, 2014*
“Manisha looks in truly positive spirits as she chases down a big butterfly. She is a little princess, with her soft golden locks freely flowing. Her mother would approve, she loved her curls as well.It’s a fine day at the park.
I see her in our daughter.
I sit back and listen to some music. Jagjit Singh. And it takes me back…
How I truly miss her, and how I break down at times. But I would never part with those wonderful 20 years we had. Right from the days of the bus depot till the marriage. Those are the days that keep me going. Even after she was diagnosed with leukemia, we had so much love. Some sweet talks, those late night book readings, and love that grew stronger each day.
Yes,love it was. Mahesh Bhai was wrong after all.

Zindagi dhoop, tum ghanaa Sayaa.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.