I grew up in the city of palaces – Mysore. We lived in an apartment complex comprising of 5 apartments and most of the families residing were well to-do Gujarathi business families and the other families on the street were Kannadigas and Tamilians. Our highly educated joint family of Grandpa, Grandma, Aunt, Mom, Dad, Sis and me lived happily in one of the apartments on the first floor with all the modern comforts. My well traveled and educated-in-UK dad was the star of the street where this apartment was situated. He was the one that everyone on the street, family and friends approached to resolve issues regarding water, electricity, education, and to even organize and celebrate Ganesh festival on the streets. Dad never said “no” to anyone or anything and would delve deep into the problems or events and used to make sure that the end result is perfect and satisfactory to one and all. A gregarious person with a terrific sense of humor, he used to make us kids laugh and happy at every given opportunity. He could never see a downcast face. He would use quips and jokes to ease the agitated minds when the atmosphere would be charged with anxiety.
He would always greet the kids with a “Good Morning” or “Good Evening” according to the time of the day and if he was the first one to wish, he would announce that he “won the game” (the game of who would wish one another first). This game caught up with everyone and all of us would wait for him to come home and hide beside the door to catch him unaware to wish him. The game ultimately reached a point when instead of wishing “Good Morning” or “Good Evening”, we would all scream out “I won the game”. It was accepted that “I won the game” words implied the wish intended to be conveyed. Even though he used to be aware of the fact that we were hiding to spring a surprise on him, he let us win and inculcated the habit of greeting everyone.
A terrific orator, he could narrate the incidents of World War II with names and date of incidents precisely as though he was reading from a history book. He himself being a freedom fighter during India’s freedom for independence never took the pension offered to freedom fighters, because he believed that he did it for his country and not to gain monetary benefits. A believer in Indian traditions and customs, he was open minded to adopt the good things of westerners. Our home was a blend of the best of both the cultures. Both my parents being voracious readers have always encouraged us to pursue our dreams and achieve the best.
Our house was an open house, where a myriad of guests weaved in and out from different walks of life. This gave us an opportunity to socialise and discuss a variety of subjects, which would be very enlightening and fun.
He was a walking encyclopedia and the rock of Gibraltar for my mom and us. We could not do anything without discussing with him and we were always given the freedom to express our opinions. On subject matters where a difference of opinion arose, an open debate would start, which would sometimes scorch and each one of us was allowed to express our opinions and stick to them.
I remember the day when he was wheeled into the operation theater for bypass surgery, he was absolutely positive and cheerful and he waved, hugged and said goodbye. Well, we did not know that we were bidding him goodbye forever. Even though it has been 4 years since he has passed away, the void that he left behind can never be filled and we will always miss him and will feel incomplete without him. He was so much fun to be with and full of life, that I feel he is omnipresent and is always virtually participating in our lives as he would if he were still alive. I was lucky to have him as my dad and would always want to be born as his daughter.