As far as I can tell I had a great childhood. I defined it by the love and care I received from my dad. I lost him when I was just 18 and his memories to this date are of a man I loved dearly and who loved me in return. My very early childhood is a blur. What I remember are stories I have heard as I have grown but have very few memories of my own – except for some involving my father. How I loved watching him tinkering with his Black Morris Minor. He would open the hood, or jack up the car and go underneath it, or he would be polishing it to a flawless sheen. I remember his stature – a big, tall man with a straight back and his head always held high. He was by no means a jolly man but when he smiled his eyes lit up and when he laughed he guffawed with his whole body shaking. He was a disciplinarian and would have been diagnosed as having OCD if he was with us today – everything had to be just so; not a speck of dust was tolerated anywhere around him and he washed his hands upto his elbows before and after anything he touched. He loved to read, enjoyed good music, movies and theater. Oh yes – and he loved to gamble – lottery tickets, a rupee or two on a race horse every now and again. He loved playing contract bridge with friends during weekends too. Scrabble was his game of choice when it came to board games.
My best memories are spending time with him after school work was done. We would sit beside each other and read our own books or read to one another from Reader’s Digest or from one of his Classic collections of Somerset Maugham or Leo Tolstoy. He also had a collection of a magazine called Knowledge and Encyclopedia Brittanica. He loved doing research on different subjects – he loved to learn and was always a diligent student of life, of knowledge, of people.
My father is my role model and my source of strength, of wisdom, of joy and has always been my guiding light. As I approach my 6th decade of life I can clearly see how much he influenced me. It was his presence in my life that kept me positive during his lifetime and that influence has lasted since, throughout my life. I wish he had lived longer for I believe I did not imbibe everything I could have from him. I wish my children had had the opportunity to meet their grandfather for in them I see a reflection of my dad and it would have been great to see them together!
I know my Baba would have been as proud of me today as he was during the first 18 years of my life. He would have loved to have spent time with my family and that of my brother. He would have been an active participant and an ardent admirer of all we have all done and achieved. I know we would have all made him proud and he would be standing up tall with his head held high – giving and receiving our love and admiration always.
Love you Baba!