'One lazy weekend this was', I thought to myself. I had done literally nothing, watched 'F.R.I.E.N.D.S re-runs' (if that counts as something useful, I liked to tell myself that it did though. It does, you know. Teaches you about friendship and love and how to mess up stuff), shopped, slept, well you figure out the rest. I sighed to myself as I remembered that it was my 'duty' this week, to clean the house as a 'co-operative roommate', the way I liked to call myself. Cleaning the house actually appealed to me, it gave me the time to think, sing ('Hey, I am on duty') and I simply liked the feeling of seeing a spotless kitchen later. Sometimes, I do get a little paranoid about it, so much that I go and check to see if anybody had 'spotted' my handiwork.
When I started the routine this week, I couldn't help but think. If you know me too well, this wouldn't surprise you. I think. All the time. My friend likes to joke that 'I think too much and put myself in a bad mood'. I don't blame him, really. I just like it, and I keep thinking so much that it refuses to go of my system sometimes. I always think that one fine day my brain would tell me, 'Oh enough already, let me get some sleep, woman, I have been working all day'. See, I 'thought' again. You get the drift.
Today was father's day and being away from home, I could think only of dad. My lovely, kind, cool and handsome dad. Not just one in a million, probably the only in millions. I remember how I used to really drive him up the wall with my questions, arguements and 'you love her more, sniff!', 'her' being my elder sister and 'sniff', being my innate ability to act the drama queen.
"Appa (dad in tamil, for my international audience ;)), I scored only 'so much' in science, I am going to grow up and be an useless young woman who is not good at anything at all." and all he would say was, "Oh forget your science paper, I never read science?! I'll tell you the story of this paper-wala?" and he would go on to tell me about this paper-wala who became a millionaire by selling only papers. Believe it or not, he is that cool. And I would end up grinning from ear to ear, dreaming of starting my own paper business with all the science textbooks in the world, until, of course, enter mom plus a spanking.
There were times when being this obedient little girl that I was, I would go up to him and ask, 'Daddy, what should I do when my friend copies?' and my dad would simply say, 'Talk to your friend and tell him that is wrong, teach him if needs help with his studies', a response that I grew up to find was very unusual among fathers, hearing my friends say stories of them being made to abandon that 'friend' altogether plus get beaten up with a belt, for having been friends with such an erm, 'friend'.
What I love the most about him is the fact that he would never hurt a soul if he could. Quite contrary to the scenario in homes those days, I have never heard my dad raise his voice against us (well, we were nice kids too ;)), the only time being to argue that children should never be beaten but handled with love. Every kid who came to our home, would become daddy's pet, taught how to wash the car, or pick the guavas from the tree, or help him arrange the toys on the kolu stand, all the time with me and my sis running around the house with barbie dolls in our hands. His brown eyes are soft, with genuine concern to anybody who approached him. He was and will always be my best friend, practical and open-minded when compared to almost anybody I know, with his ability to handle and understand people in so little time, when all you could have ever done was finish your little cup of coffee. The first time I learned that age gave him 'the wisdom', it surprised me. 'Noo! Dads are born 'dads' as a package, with the mustache and the wisdom', was what I thought till I grew a little old, and earned my share of wisdom myself.
Walks in the park were never really walks, they were simply a time for 'father-daughter' bonding, with both of us carrying paper-wrapped sundal, and me whining to him about all the studying that I had to do. We would discuss the day's events, complain about mom, and be welcomed back home, with my mom asking, "You both will definitely sleep well today, wont you? After all the complaining about me?" I would shake my head vehemently and make my most innocent face while dad would quickly surprise mom with yet another paper-wrapped sundal.
I smiled to myself. I had almost finished cleaning the room, and it looked spotless, if I can say so myself.
I walked to the hall and looked out of the window at the children's park and saw a young father throwing his little girl into the air as she screamed in delight.
I looked on as I thought to myself, 'If there was anything I could ever change about my life, I would change nothing, because I know, appa, that you will always be by my side.'
I love you, dad, and you are, truly, my hero.
