When I was young, very young of nine summers I would go to my nativeland during summer break of my school. But problem would come when I had my return journey back. That day I could the anxiety and unease on my mother’s face. I always thought why my mother made this much of fuss about my return journey. May be I was too young to undertake the pain and heartache of my mother or my dad.
Even for last few springs Bags would be equally fussy on the day of my return journey. I always beheld it too melodramatic. But recently I booked my dad’s ticket to Kolkata. He was to leave for Kol after one and a half year. He is old now and now we take care of him like a young child is behaved with. So on the day of his journey I was extremely anxious. There was a rush. Packing was done. And every now and then I had to make sure that nothing had been left behind to packed. Somehow I could go to drop him off but I sent my younger brother. And I was like, “papa,be vigilant, wallet Sahi se rakhna aap and phone ko raate mein bag mein Rakh dena.” And he was like ” Beta, baccha nh hun main. I am 64 aur 50 Saal se travel Kar raha Hun”. My worry knew no bound . On where is my train app I checked the the train running status every now and then and called him spasmodically.
For the first time he is not at home during my holidays. For the last four years since I started working full time , he was with me in my holidays when I was at home. Today,I am missing him so very badly. He is so much a part of me that I always feel incomplete. His mere shadow works more than anything in my life. A father, friend and brother, mentor and what not. He is Abbu.
I believe we all have a dad like him across the globe. Don’t your heart beat for your dad?