Hi this is an entry for Bloggada’s contest at http://blog.blogadda.com/2010/06/16/tribute-to-dad-contest
“Dad this is what I hate the most.” Dad spun towards me incognizant of the reason why I have picked up a fight. His hair is straight and a clump of it dropped onto his temple as he turned. He is an average- built 5 feet 10 inch robust man.
“What is it that you are cribbing about my dear? “he asked , his voice serene. One of his lenses is shimmering in the twilight. After the cataract surgery an artificial lens had been implanted and one can easily comprehend that it is all fake because it shines just like a firefly. His face is bright and radiant. The light from the prayer lamp lights his face and it gleams all the more. His mind is tranquil and he is sitting on the couch with a peg of whisky in his hands. The fine hair on his hands have started turning grey. He is 60 plus.
“You know you have got a fatty liver and you are not supposed to drink this often. On top of that, doctor has advised you not to booze. Then why can’t you just follow that, Dad??” I bawled at him.
“Dear, you know today is ur parent’s wedding anniversary , don’t you? This is the 31st year of our marriage. You know what? Your mom and I have gone through all kinds of hardships and now here we are, all settled and spending the last few years of our lives with our loved ones. We don’t have anything to worry about. Our hearts are filled with felicities. I’m overwhelmed by the way things are. You and your sister have a fantastic family now. Both of you are blessed with incredible children. Now I gather new experiences from life as a grandfather too. What more can I ask for?” he sighed contentedly.
“Yeah Dad, I know that is all true. But you know you need to take proper care of your health too.” I said cheekily.
“Today is one of the happiest days in my life and please don’t bother me about my health girl. And you know your friend gifted me with this scotch. I am savoring the flecks of reminiscences along with it.” He murmured. I can see him sink into thoughts.
“Dad I know it’s a gift, but that doesn’t mean you have to finish it off the very same day.” I seethed with anger, but he defended himself with emotions. He smiled calmly. Composure still reigned his face.
“Dear, if you could please come and join me on this couch?” Dad pleaded. I couldn’t resist his words. I walked slowly towards him like a small child and found my seat beside him. I stared blankly at the floor. He took my hands and examined it thoroughly.
“You have grown up. You are the mother of my little munchkin”. I can see his eyes watering. His eyes shined even more with the tears. I can feel the dampness of his heart. I sat there like a statue thinking of those times when we played scrabbles, caroms and cards together, when I blubbered for a bicycle and he got me a scooty, when he sat at the back of the scooty and held me tight and taught me how to ride, when we did the interiors of our sweet home, when he wept like a child when I got married without anyone knowing about it, when he took all the troubles during my pregnancy, hubby being overseas and on and on. I realized it is never ending.
I turned my head to face him to see him smile politely. Words got stuck between my tongue and teeth. Tears swept my face. I stood up without saying a word and made my way to kitchen. Moments later I got back with a glass of white wine. I beamed at him and raised my hand towards him.
“Cheers Dad. I love you!”