Thinking of my father

As a personal preference I am not a big fan of overly personal or sentimental posts on a public blog. But my blog is an expression of myself so it would not be right if I insulate it from my feelings altogether.

So without going into too much detail I just want to use this space to remember my father who passed away 16th of May last year. Of course, I miss him and always will but instead of feeling sorry for myself I want to mention a few things that give me comfort when I think of him.

He was an amazing man. In so many ways! And it gives me comfort to remember that I realized this while he was alive and I let him know how much I admired and loved him!

Much as a huge shock it was to me and rest of the family that he passed away very suddenly, it is a comfort to think that he didn't suffer. He was a very self-reliant man and never wanted to be dependent on others. And he was self-reliant to his last moment. I think that's how he would have wanted it.

He lived a full life, with a full, flourishing, loving family. His sons were with him in his last moment.

In Indian culture it is said that the first teacher is the mother and second teacher the father. He fulfilled that responsibility amazingly well. Almost everything I know I have learnt from him directly or indirectly.

He was a strict disciplinarian but a very loving father as well.

I find it comforting that I made him proud of me, and arguably, in my siblings I was his favourite.

He left a gap in my life that cannot be filled. But I find comfort in the thought that wherever he is, he is always with me!

Dosa are the memories...

Long, long time ago in a city far, far away used to live a small boy, yes, me. Just like any other boy, my prime source of nutrition was my mother's cooking. My mother is a very good cook and I used to love her food. But once in a while my elder brother, KP, would take me out to a restaurant. Just him and me. And we would have dosa.

The restaurant was nothing fancy, just a small neighbourhood shop would be more of an accurate title. But I used to love those little outings for various reasons. For one, the dosa used to be very delicious. For another, that was the only time I used to get to eat with a knife and fork. Of course, the variety in food and a chance to go out were all added attractions as well.

In time, that tradition tapered out, especially since we moved to another place, still within Delhi, when I was 7. But I never forgot those occasions.

By now I have eaten in many countries, many cities and sampled many cuisines within the confines of my vegetarian lifestyle. I have gone out to restaurants of all types, small dhaba shops to 5-star restaurants. I have paid for these great meals myself, eaten on expense account and been treated by others. But if I have to look back and pick just one food that is the best of them all it would have to be that Dosa that cost very little and was paid for by my brother!