If only Appa were here
FATHER’S Day is here, and the words that ring in my ears are, “Don’t waste your money eating out. I will ask your mother to cook for all of you. Just come over for lunch or dinner.” Appa was never a stingy person but he was thrifty.
Coming from a poor family with seven siblings, he was the fifth child but he shouldered the responsibility for the whole family after my grandfather passed away when my dad was only nine years old. His education was minimal but his general knowledge was indisputable.
He herded cows during his free time, to earn extra money for the family, and went on to work as a cigar roller. Subsequently, he worked in a factory as a clerk till the company closed down.
The family house was just a simple wooden house which got flooded every time it rained. They had no TV or fridge. Visitors who came to our house always looked down on us. But he never took any criticism to heart.
He had to take care of his siblings with their families who were all staying together as an extended family. His only transport was a “kapcai” motorcycle which ran at 20km/hour.
After marriage, being a filial son, he stayed with his mum and siblings for nearly 30 years. He never left his mother until she passed away in 1999. After that, he took care of his widowed sisters till the day they passed away.
Even his older siblings looked up to him for advice. He may have looked stern but you could see the compassion in his eyes. He was humble and honest, and a man of few words.
Everything he bought was from his hard-earned money. The first property he bought was an apartment, which he was very proud of.
He educated his children to become professionals, and beamed with joy when he saw his kids graduating and becoming successful in their personal and professional lives. He always thanked God for bestowing him with wonderful and grateful children. He even took on the role of being a “parent” to my cousins during their marriage.
Hard work and community service was nothing new to him. His major involvement was serving in a temple and helping the poor and needy. Mention his name to anyone in the community and they would only say wonderful things about him. Close friends called him Haridas, and the younger generation addressed him as Uncle Dass.
His friends came from all walks of life. Every time there was a celebration in our home, he insisted that the food be distributed to our neighbours, too; his philosophy was “sharing is caring”.
The first time he broke down was when he lost his first son-in-law due to a heart attack at a young age. The death left him devastated. But he remained strong for his daughter’s sake.
Suddenly his world came crashing down when the doctor diagnosed him with end-stage cancer. That news pushed him to the edge but, being a fighter, he kept on with the treatments and sought all kinds of remedies.
But God had his plans. He took him from us on Aug 3, 2015. I was holding him in my arms when he slowly closed his eyes.
Appa, I miss you. I have lost another pillar of strength in my life which nothing can replace.
Without your presence in the house, it is not the same anymore, and family gatherings are becoming sparse nowadays.
I know you are watching over us and proud of your children and grandchildren who have all graduated and some are getting married soon. If only you were around – it would be blissful.