On Being a Daddy’s girl

I’m a Daddy’s girl. Anyone who knows me well would know that about me. My classmates from school (whom I never kept in touch with after school, but later met thru Orkut) still remember that my Dad dropped me at school on his bike everyday. So he used to drop and pick me and my sis up, and later when we grew up to attend tuitions, he used to drop us and wait for 2 hours and pick us back. Now he din’t trust any auto guy to bring back his little girls safely. Neither did he trust us (actually he dint trust ME, my younger sis was way smarter, still is) board a bus and reach back safely. So he took upon himself to pick and drop us daily. When I was a little girl, he used to help me with my socks, tie/buckle my shoes ( I couldn’t do this on my own till much later), help me with my homework, simplified my math problems so that I just had to look thru it on the eve of my exam, ironed my school uniforms ( well.. I do iron his shirts now sometimes, but I still make him iron my clothes when I’m in a hurry. But now I mostly wear wrinkle-free clothes, so its okay) , sat up with me when I studied late, listened to all my rants and raves and pampered me silly. Well.. its another thing that I always thought that my sis is his favourite, he always disagrees. And most of our fights have been on this . But we fight no more on this. Or maybe a little lesser than before. Because my sis is such a darling ( despite the stubbornness that run in the family) that when pitted against me, even I would pick her!

The most important thing to me is that my Daddy is my trouble shooter. Whenever I’m shaken by fear or troubled with my problems, all I had to do was tell Dad. He would promise me that he would take care of it and my fears disappear. I have such immense faith in him that once the onus is on him, I can rest assured that everything will be taken care of. Whenever I’m in trouble, Dad is the first person I turn to. And there is no problem that he cannot solve. And people always thought I was independent, because they never saw me depending on any one else. Only I knew the truth. But the degree of my dependence on him dawned on me only when I moved away into a hostel in a new city. I used to put calls to him a number of times asking about everything mundane and inane. I used to cry non stop over the phone and he used to comfort me from the other end. I remember traveling alone one night ( and the train was horribly late and mostly empty cuz it was a special train) and the TTE of the train was annoying me. I couldn’t handle it alone obviously. So I dropped an sms to my Dad. And before I knew it, the train was stopped and the railway police was in the coach. How he managed to do it was beyond me. But then there are innumerable instances where he has been a saviour to me. So I often think whether I would be able to lead a life without him And I know someday it is going to happen. And I have died a hundred deaths thinking about it and shed copious mamopunt of tears after hitting the bed. That is what forced me to move in back home. People thought I was dumb. And I don’t argue. Even sometime back, when I go to bed and can’t sleep, I walk upto his room, wake him up and tell him I can’t sleep. It is a great relief just letting him know that I haven’t slept yet. Or when I can’t sleep because I’m over whelmed by this sorrow of losing him, I will go and wake him up and plant a kiss on his cheek. And I do that no more cuz I know it is cruel to wake him up from his sleep./ So I really don’t know how I’m going t o cope with a grief of not having him around more

My Dad actually made both of us- me and sis. Mom’s influence on our lives is quite zilch. He has imparted great values – on the importance of being honest and principled. He has never given us lectures, but always led us by examples. And we followed it. To this day, it is difficult lying to him. And I hardly do anything behind his back that he would frown upon on discovering, even when I’m sure he would never find out. If there are things about me that I don’t want him to know, I just say I can’t tell him and he wouldn’t ask.

My Dad always said things would change when I’m married and have kids of my own. He always thought that your parents are important to you only till the day u get married. He used to tell me that there is a difference in your relationship with your parents once you are married. And maybe he is right. My Grandad died a couple of years back. And all his children, including my mom cried for a day. And they were all okay he very next day. I was shocked beyond words. I wasn’t particularly close to my grand dad. But I felt bad for him that his children forgot him a day after he left this world. His children carried on with their business as usual, laughing and talking about clothes (my mom’s side discusses a lot about clothes and shopping). There was not even a mourning period. When I discussed this with my Dad, he told me this is what he has been talking about all the while. And I believed him. Someway, that assurance gave me some relief.

But then I read a blog. This blogger is married with two adorable kids and still has not really come into terms with losing her Dad. And I discussed this with many other married friends. They all said that they will be sad for a while, but would get over it soon. So I secretly hoped it will be the same for me. Preeti was just an exception maybe. And then I heard about another married friend’s father’s death and how she struggled to cope with it. So now I understand it is not about whether you are married or not, whether you have kids or not, It is about how much you love them. So probably those friends don’t love their parents the way I do. I don’t know who I will turn to, if not him. I don’t know how I will fill that vaccum. And I wanted to tell Dad. “ I have an amazing person as my Dad. He din’t probably have someone equally amazing as his Dad. THERE LIES THE REAL DIFFERENCE”!!!