It's a repost. This is supposed to be one of the most heart-wrenching write-up I ever wrote. I remember crying continuously for an hour before and after writing this. Miss you Dada, always!! Sharing this here directly from my notes app.
I am writing this to honour the memory of one of the strongest person I know. This person has shaped a significant part of my personality. I am selfish, thanks to him. I own my vices, thanks to him. I spend hours contemplating things that shouldn't matter, thanks to him. I have a nose that looks like a round ball of clay with two pencils poked inside to make just enough space to breath, thanks to him. Finding humour in sabotaging self, thanks to him. Speed reading books, thanks to him. Preferring walking over for short distances, thanks to him. So much of present me is just a reflection of past him. I am becoming more like my dada with each passing day. If I were to start a podcast with my dead relatives, dada would be the guest on the first episode. Coz I know however creepy the idea sounds, he'll support me. Dada was a philosopher in 144p. Dada used to discuss life, death, politics with random strangers he met. We found it annoying at that time. Well, the joke is on me coz that's what I want to become today- carefree like him. Dada was also a punctual disciplined man who never failed to eat an apple a day. Now I see where I get my punctuality from. Few sentences ago, I mentioned he's one of the strongest person I know. Here's the reason, my dada outlived his wife and his only son. My mother is the only source of strength I have today. Even people reading this might know family is strength. So my dada was left with only little bit of strength i.e. his daughter-in-law and his 2 grandchildren. I have seen him weeping while offering namaaz. He was bedridden for almost 3-4 years. He was begging death to take him. Here's an important lesson for people who want an easy death, don't eat an apple a day. Let your immune system be weak enough that a simple cold becomes strong enough to take you down. Such unfiltered thoughts are the reason why I can't fit in anymore. Well, thanks to him. Dada was/is/will be inspirational to me for one more thing. He was agnostic in first half of his life and a devotee for the second half. He studied different religious books, he debated different ideas, he wasn't scared to put forward a dissenting opinion. He walked so I could run. But I prefer yoga, running isn't my thing. My dada was the protective shield between me and my mother's raging anger. Sometimes after getting scolded and numerous times after getting beaten by her, I remember how he used to console me. Our house is centred around my mother. When she's happy everything is happy, when she's sad everything is gloomy. My dada taught me how to judge the mood of my mother based on her facial expression. We use the trick even today. My dada also taught me how to be comfortable with oneself. I remember how happy he used to get even for smallest of my achievements. Best dada ever. Wish I could read this note to him and thank him personally for everything, well someday I will, on my podcast. I could end this by writing I'll make you proud oneday but I know you're already proud of me, so no such thing.
Today isn't his death or birth anniversary or anything. Just a day when I remembered him a little more than the other days.
15/02/2024
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