Dear Dad,
Remember our trips to
Cubbon Park on Sunday mornings? I think the tradition started when I was two
years old. You probably remember this better than I do.
We would leave home
early with me sitting high up on your shoulders squealing with delight at being
so tall and high up in the air. A bus ride, a small walk and we would be
standing right outside the ticket counter for the toy train. A few rounds
around the park; followed by playing on the swings and slides. Running around
the place with all the other kids, that was my favourite part. I wonder which
part you liked the most. Was it when you saw me all hyper and excited? Was it
when I would tire out and come give you a hug and fall asleep in your arms? Was
it when it was time to leave and you could get back to your grown up world
again?
We continued this way
every single Sunday for the next ten years. I eventually walked along and
refused to be carried. I started going on the older children rides and
sometimes; we would leave a bit early and visit the neighbouring aquarium. I
eventually got this habit of going “kooooo chuk chuk chuk chuk” the entire time
because I loved the train. I’m sure it annoyed you, but you never chided me for
it. A few things never changed. We always took the bus; I always sat by the
window. You held my hand when we walked towards the park and stood at a
distance while I ran around like a crazy hyper kid, never taking your eyes off me and always making sure I was safe. If I
ever fell down; you were right there telling me it was no big deal; sometimes
pulling out a band aid; patching me up and then ordering me to head back to the
rides. We always stayed for exactly one hour. You were very particular about
that, no matter how much I cried; screamed or refused to budge, you never over
extended our visits. We always went to The Airlines Hotel after that and you
sipped on coffee while I ate idlis. You always enquired how Little Lulu was
doing and I always took that as a cue to go into excruciating details of the
latest episode that I had watched. I’m sure you did not really care about them,
maybe you just wanted to get me to talk some more or maybe I really was a very
good story teller.
I wish it had never
changed. Wish I had never gotten so caught up in my own life that I forgot to chalk
some time out for you. Wish I could go back to being that little girl who was
absolutely certain that her father was the tallest, strongest and most
wonderful person in the whole wide world. Wish I could go back to sitting in
toy trains and discussing Little Lulu’s escapades with you.
I know you worry about
me, and brood over my rebellious lack of any regard for discipline and
structure. I know you cannot comprehend why I have to go off on a tangent about
everything and never do things normally. But I need you to understand that my
lack of regard for the world, society, people and everyone’s ways has nothing
to do with my respect and love for you. You are my superhero. You always have
been. You are the first and most important man in my life and even though I
hardly ever express it, I still need you. To stand at a distance and look out
for me. To always be there when I fall, and tell me how it is no big deal and
instruct me to bounce back like I have no other choice. To always listen to my
pointless ramblings about things only I believe to be important.
I’ll always be the
little girl who always looked forward to a Sunday. I’ll always be the girl who
grew up believing she was special because her father said so. I’ll always be
the girl who made sad puppy dog eyes to get her way. I’ll always be the crazy
hair-brained teenager who hated rules. I’ll always be the young lady who is
glad her father brought her up the way he did but still complains that he could have given her a break every once in
a while. I’ll always love you daddy. Always.
With
everlasting Love,
Your
little girl.
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