My Dady’s Daughter

With three days of holidays, I would have planned something really exciting. But I have so many pending work that can not think of anything other than work. Life has come to a standstill. Nothing is happening. Routine, day after day just routine. There is nothing I look forward to these days. We were planning a rafting event but then my father said “No” and then finally because of various reasons it did not happen.

Things were pretty different when we were small, when my parents were young. My parents would plan a vacation every year during school summer holidays. It used to be so much fun. My dad would sit with me for hours in the train and would keep chatting, and I would patiently listen and would not get bored. I have always been fond of my dad. Though I have never been fond of his cooking. His cooking experiments are usually a disaster. I remember, once he read a recipe in the Sunday newspaper and the very same evening he made that too. It was called Rum Banana. Nothing special but a Flambé’ dish made out of bananas and dark rum. Then once he made a Bengali sweet called “Shondesh” in a pressure cooker which had too little sweet and tasted like cottage cheese. But he used to make very good ice cream. I remember, almost on every Sunday in summers, he would get condensed milk, ice cream mix, and then he would occupy the kitchen for a long time to make that ice-cream.

My father would help me make my charts, models and other projects too. It was so much fun. Infact my father used to teach me math, science and Bengali too. He would take a tape recorder, and record my voice when I would be reciting the tables that I was to by-heart. Then he would take out a slate and chalk and would write some Bangla alphabet on it and I was to over write on it, till I remembered what alphabet was it. He took a lot of pain in making me, first a literate and then educated. But later, as the years passed, I lost my father in the hands to time. May be I was too fast in moving ahead with my teenaged life that I did not care to look back to wait for him to join me. He also started other ways of keeping himself busy. My brother was more attached to my mother.

I remember, I used to go for night walks with my father, every evening after dinner and we would talk about so many things. There was a stray dog also that we befriended and it would follow us till home where dad would give him something to eat. On one such day he even explained to me the scientific reason of why a girl gets her periods. This was when I got my first periods and I was so embarrassed that I told mom not to tell dad but she did.

I was a regular companion of my dad for all the English movies. I have seen so many movies with him that I do not even remember the names of half of them. I would keep asking him silly questions and he would patiently answer those.

There was a time when my father also caught a greeting card that I wrote to my 1st crush and I was so embarrassed in front of him. He was very upset with me at that time. He was hurt when he came to know about me bunking school with friends. I hurt him and disappointed him so many times.

We still are great buddies when we actually sit down and talk. I fight with him very often. And we occasionally drink also together. He would not offer a drink to my brother but to me. It’s good that he keeps himself busy as I do not have time to sit and chit chat as I used to when I was small. I am tied up with so many things. My mom and my dad end up fighting after 10 minutes of being together. They have different temperaments but they are deeply in love. After all, I and my brother are here because of their everlasting love.

With each grey strand he is becoming more handsome and with each wrinkle she has become more beautiful. They are my Mom and Dad. So much married, so much in love.


3 thoughts on “My Dady’s Daughter

  1. That was a really sweet description of how u feel about ur dad! Nostalgia emerging from where , quite out of the blue, isnt it?
    Does ur dad read ur blog?


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