We miss you but we will always celebrate your life
“Where do I begin, to tell the story of how great a love can be? Where do I start?”
Four or forty, I was always “thaththi’s girl”.That special bond between father and daughter can never be put down in mere words, but I shall try. He shared the same birthday as Mahatma Gandhi, and in my eyes he was as great, as simple and humble, as unassuming, as unmaterialistic and yet, remained larger than life.
Thaththi was the most intelligent, honest, meticulous, down-to-earth person I have ever met. I count myself blessed to have watched and learnt from the best. He taught me always to put my heart and soul in whatever I undertook –“do it well or don’t do it at all!” This has been my mantra at school, work and in doing my daily chores. He placed great emphasis on the use of correct language – leaving no margins of error in grammar, spelling or punctuation. I am not half as good as you Thaththi but you’ll be proud to know that I still think twice, placing that “comma”, because of you!
He taught me so much by the exemplary, disciplined life he led. He made sure I learnt my “basics” from an early age – Christian faith taking centre stage. I vividly remember my parents teaching me the Lord’s Prayer, circa age 3. The three of us kneeling at my bedside, while I repeated after them in all seriousness, most often incorrectly, which set them off laughing, which of course I couldn’t fathom at that time. He was also an avid reader and recited poems off the cuff even in his late 80’s. Being a renowned Mechanical Engineer, I was proud of his lifelong achievements. Towards the end of his life’s journey he put together various files and manuscripts containing years of engineering knowledge and thus ensured his legacy will live on.He was always fixing and mending whatever was broken around the house. I believe he applied the same principle in his 55 year-long marriage to my mother Pauline, “if something’s broken, you fix it. Not throw it away”. Theirs was an exemplary journey of love, care and support.
Thaththi placed great emphasis on education. I recall how he used to teach me math and science at an early age. I admired his knowledge on an array of subjects. He even coached his granddaughters Santushi and Keshla, just three months before his demise.
He was not an outdoor person but rather, enjoyed watching movies – great Westerns being his favourite. He loved gardening and I remember undertaking many “expeditions” with him. His love of dogs has been passed down from generation to generation. Our house was never devoid of fur, slubbery kisses or continuous waggy tails.
Thaththi lived a full life – surrounded by what mattered most, love and family. I know you wouldn’t want us to mope and sulk but want us to always cherish our time together and hold on to our precious memories. We will always celebrate you!
Losing you was hard, thaththi, there’s not a day that passes that I don’t think of you. Being born after nine years, I was always your precious “punchi” though I stopped being punchi a long, long time ago. I sing “thaththaththarapatiya” or “me gaseboho” countless times in my head, with my eyes closed and I’m teleported to a bygone era.