TO MY DEAR APPA

 After a long long time, I am coming back to my blog. Blame it on the Corporate Life. I had forgotten myself. I think I am back now. 

And today is Father's Day. Last year this time, I never thought in near future, this day would pass with out my father. I had a normal conversation with him. But life never promised to play fair, and I lost him in a months time. 

So, this is in memory of my father, my Appa.

Dear Appa,

Most of my memories start from when I turned four. My fondest memories begin with you. Thank you.

As kids, our evenings were spent waiting for you to arrive. I would have finished my homework. And we would be looking forward as to how best to pester you for the rest of the day. You come up at the door, we are already demanding to be lifted up in turns.

As soon as you settle down for tea, me and chechi are already taking turns to sit on your lap and sliding down like we are in a park already. Thank you for being our makeshift children’s park.

Come dinner time, my efforts are concentrated on booking my seat on your lap and eating dinner from your plate always, before even my sister can think about it.

Thank you for your patience.

Thank you for scooping me up from bed in the morning, Putting me up on a chair, washing my face and making me brush my teeth, so that I am ready for school.

Thank you for the playtime in the terrace. For making Olapandu for us. Thank you for lifting me as a kid whenever I demanded. I used to feel I was on top of the world…felt like the tallest person around because you are so tall.. Thank you for throwing me up in the air. Up there, I used to feel I am flying. My giggles echoed the place. And there was no room for fear because I knew you would catch me.

Thank you for taking us for long walks. So that I could see paddy fields and ducks in the evenings

Thank you for taking us to the park. We played and ran around to our hearts content.

I was so naughty beyond perhaps what you imagined a kid would be like. I have the best mom in the world but I was such a terrible daughter, even she would lose her cool. Thank you for saving me countless times from Amma’s bashings. Sometimes, all could hope for was for you to return from office and save me from her beatings.

Thank you for all the shopping sprees. The new clothes, trips to Marine Drive. Cone Ice cream, Frooti. Couldn’t ask for more.

Thanks for the trips to meet Appachen Ammachi, in our all time faviourite St.Thomas Bus from Aluva.

Thank you for the song story you taught us.

Thank you for slicing juicy mangoes for us, as the three of us stood competing for the next one.

Thankyou,

For ironing our uniforms and clothes.

For cooking occasionally

For carrying groceries and vegetables to home thousands of times for us

For coming to see me off in the bus stop.

For quietly placing the plum cake in the fridge, a night before my birthday, along with all the things required to make chicken biriyani and payasam but never wishing me Happy Birthday.

For paying up our school fees all the time. Thinking back nothing breaks my heart more. I knew it was so hard on you. But you did it as long as you could.

My childhood mornings remind me of the smell of Old Spice aftershave and your shaving kit, which I figured out I will never grow up to use. Your morning routine those days -Your exercise, the morning radio news, Abba Music, the ironing shirt and trousers for office, the newspaper and tea- which I was keen to hijack from you, mostly just the newspaper.

Yeah, I miss you Appa. Not a day passes without thinking about you a hundred times.

We were not very keen about calling and wishing on special occasions. And never thought twice about it. Why did I behave as though we are immortal, I don’t know.

But Last year, I wished you Happy Father’s Day from Kolkata, I had no idea it would be the first and last time.

Where did you go Appa?

Why did you go? It’s just not fair. Do you know how it feels to look at your father's phone number and not know what to do with it once he's gone? I think you do, in a different way. 

There was much more left to be done..

We had lot of catching up to do..

I wish you were here.

I would call you occasionally. We could go for small trips. Go for the long walks.

I could come home and still see you bringing tea powder and rava and onions and vegetables.

I could see you read your news paper. Take your afternoon naps and do your bit of gardening and plumbing.

I could ask about your health. I could buy you occasional gifts.

I could irritate you just like I used to as a kid.

We could go back together to Mannathoor and go house hopping, meetings all relatives. While you would do the talking, I could sit back and listen to the conversations.

I could see your innocent smile and listen to your analysis of the current geo political- economic situation.

I could see you drink tea and watch TV and sit by the side. Such a rare contented feeling. Sitting next to your parent. Never realized that all the time I was at home. Had to go out into the world and get separated from family to see the value in it.

The only solace is that I am 50% you. I am a piece of you that you’ve left behind. So, you are alive through me.

I take you forward. I keep you alive as long as I am alive. You are still very much there because we are there.

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY APPA.

Love, Remya.