Dear Readers, you may notice the dates of the Blog do not match the Flash Post dates which are in real time. The blog was written in 2009 and saw the light of day 6 months back when my younger daughter discovered it and decided to bring it to you here.
Fathers | Flash Post 303

Fathers | Flash Post 303

Button, seeing my daughters wish, hug, kiss and plan a special menu for their father on Father’s Day today, made me miss mine! You’ve seen my mother and here’s what my baba looked like.

He was a good-looking man. Do any of you sisters resemble him in any way?

You’ve seen my sister and you’ve seen me and now with his picture above, do you think we look anything like him?

You look a lot like your mother. Perhaps, your sister has some characteristics of your dad!

He had thick salt and pepper hair which he would backbrush and wear his signature white shirt with a crisp white dhoti which he used to drape himself everyday. Not like the ready-made dhotis you get these days where you just have to slip your legs through and zip up!

Tell me more about him.

He was a great cook and, from what I heard him tell us, he was the one to teach my mother the art of cooking. He, of-course, took great pride in that and, as kids, my sister and I would wait for Sunday when he would prepare various delectables. But the pulao he made was something else! I’d fail if I even set out to describe that dish.

Did any of you sisters imbibe the art?

Well, Button, when your Dost and I got married, I didn’t know how to even boil rice or make a cup of tea!

And?

I gradually learnt a few things over the years and can put together a decent meal.

And your sister?

I think she’s a better cook than me. My mother stayed with her most of the time and must have taught her a lot of the stuff.

Did the two of you observe Father’s Day when he was alive?

Never.

Why?

Because we never knew that Father’s Day should be treated as a special day and that even a peck on your father’s cheek or writing him a letter would make him feel special and loved on that one day every year.

Any regrets?

Plenty.

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