DADDY

It’s just a post on this BIG website, right? People read it, like it (I would like to believe that) and then like everything else that matters we forget it, even if does stay it’s in some cramped up little space in our brain. So tiny that we can almost neglect its existence.
So what does REALLY matter? The economy? Your job? Your dream? Your LIFE? Such a simple questions yet seldom thought about.
My father is in the Indian army, most of my childhood he’s been away keeping the country safe. Keeping us safe. Keeping you safe. With him it’s more like meeting him on vacations rather than not seeing him in vacations. But its dad right? He’s always going to be around.
That’s what I think every time I don’t “whatsapp” him back to his overprotective love for me.
But something happened and it made me miss him, I missed getting scolded by him and that’s saying something. He’s a hard taskmaster so to miss him for his scolding? Yeah, that’s how deep the incident touched me.
One lazy afternoon my mother told me we had guests coming over for dinner, I made a face as usual  because now I would have to dress up, be proper while all I wanted to do was slump back into the beanbag and watch some television.
I heard the bell ring and before I could reach the door my mother pulled my hand and whispered "uncle passed away in a helicopter crash recently" and just looked at me for a fraction of a second longer than usual eye contact to make sure that I had absorbed what I had heard. I had.  This wasn’t something strange or unusual for me, I had seen it and heard about it one too many times but hadn’t ever interacted with anyone directly affected from such tragedy.
Aunty came in, she was stunning. Pretty, poised and confident but you could see the pain in her eyes. The overdone kajal to disguise the previous night’s teary eyes. She came in and with her was her 4 year old son. Probably the cutest kid you would ever see and also the smartest kid in town. He could have real meaningful conversations about why Noddy shouldn’t ever listen to big ears.
I took him to the Television room and we watched some cartoons and suddenly he stood up, startled, almost worried and then a smile broke onto his face. It was like watching fireworks.  When you light them you don’t know if they’ll burst into a sky full of sparkles or just vanish into smoke.  I looked at the direction he was staring at and I saw my father’s flying shoes (pilots have special combat flying boots)
He went up to them, examined them. With such seriousness that it made me wonder why he was so interested in these gigantic boots. Before I knew it he ran to the drawing room and stopped just a few steps away from aunty. He looked at my mother then at aunty with such beautiful beaming eyes that it instantly made everyone in the room happy.  Little did we know what he said next was the most painful innocent truth. He looks up at aunty and says “ mummmmmaaaaaa, appa (dad) is here !!!!!!! You were wrong mummmaaaa he’s not gone anywhere ! appa is here mumma”
It didn’t even take a minute for aunty to burst into a flood of tears, I could see her hold back for her son’s sake but it only made it worse.
I took him inside to the Tv room. I wanted to hug him, console him but how could I?  he didn't know the truth. He didn’t know he wasn't going to have his father to teach him how to ride a bike, to force him to watch the discovery channel, to give him “the talk”.
He wasn’t ever getting his father back.
Four years old and he didn’t have his ol’ man anymore. It was torture to pretend it was alright, to laugh with him, to watch cartoons with him.
That night, I called dad and told him I scored A+ in one of my exams which really didn't exist. I just wanted to hear him say “well done my child”. And he did.
Parents love you no matter what. They’ll always hold your hand, sometimes tighter than we want them too but they’ll do it anyway.

Go hug them. TODAY. It's worth it.