It is exactly a month ago that this night, I got the distressing phone call from Roshni saying that Papa is no more! I don't think I've still comprehended his loss - I don't think anyone of us at home have! But one thing we are all happy about is that he did not struggle or suffer. It was all sudden and instant.
As we were clearing up his room - which did not take more than a few minutes, given the things he had in his collection - I came to know he did have a passport. Of course, it expired even before I was born. But Papa still had it with him.
The few things very dear to him that I still remember: his German tape recorder, the green table fan, his cassette repair kit, his Swiss knife, that 'Ganesh' beedi, and his beloved hindi songs...
Sharabhi ankhein...
Hue preet purayi...
Man dole...
Then there was the famous 'Rakkon bodve mozha...' and 'Sing alleluia'!
But all who knew him, were well aware of his most beloved thing: the bottle! And no remembrance of him or event in his life, could be complete without it ending up in a mention of booze. But as grandma still believes, except when he was drunk, he was a gem!
I really don't miss him. Perhaps that's because I have been away from home all these years and rarely been in his physical company for more than a week or so, during my annual holidays. Neither of us at home are 'sad' that he left anything unfinished. I remember him as a man who slogged his way through youth. He did everything possible while my brother and I were kids. There is never a day that I remember him absenting himself from work - his driving job. Even when he was not well, he went. After Mummy, if there is anyone I've known, who exemplified hard manual labour, it was Papa. But once he retired, he just gave up all work. He realised he had done all that was to be done, and he literally relaxed. Not that he was lazy, he just didn't exert himself. He was confident that Willy was now capable of running the house without him having to break his back. His dedicated work, had borne fruit.
The last two decades of his life, the time after retirement, he never had any ambitions or grand plans. No regrets, whatsoever. Mummy and Willy, never left anything unfulfilled - apart from reigning in his drinking! He lived happy! I find that very, very consoling. And as we were joking among ourselves one day, after his funeral: he must now be merrily chatting away with St Lawrence - his favourite saint - and sipping away!
As we were clearing up his room - which did not take more than a few minutes, given the things he had in his collection - I came to know he did have a passport. Of course, it expired even before I was born. But Papa still had it with him.
The few things very dear to him that I still remember: his German tape recorder, the green table fan, his cassette repair kit, his Swiss knife, that 'Ganesh' beedi, and his beloved hindi songs...
Sharabhi ankhein...
Hue preet purayi...
Man dole...
Then there was the famous 'Rakkon bodve mozha...' and 'Sing alleluia'!
But all who knew him, were well aware of his most beloved thing: the bottle! And no remembrance of him or event in his life, could be complete without it ending up in a mention of booze. But as grandma still believes, except when he was drunk, he was a gem!
I really don't miss him. Perhaps that's because I have been away from home all these years and rarely been in his physical company for more than a week or so, during my annual holidays. Neither of us at home are 'sad' that he left anything unfinished. I remember him as a man who slogged his way through youth. He did everything possible while my brother and I were kids. There is never a day that I remember him absenting himself from work - his driving job. Even when he was not well, he went. After Mummy, if there is anyone I've known, who exemplified hard manual labour, it was Papa. But once he retired, he just gave up all work. He realised he had done all that was to be done, and he literally relaxed. Not that he was lazy, he just didn't exert himself. He was confident that Willy was now capable of running the house without him having to break his back. His dedicated work, had borne fruit.
The last two decades of his life, the time after retirement, he never had any ambitions or grand plans. No regrets, whatsoever. Mummy and Willy, never left anything unfulfilled - apart from reigning in his drinking! He lived happy! I find that very, very consoling. And as we were joking among ourselves one day, after his funeral: he must now be merrily chatting away with St Lawrence - his favourite saint - and sipping away!
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