MASTERPIECE BY GOD....
A bearded face, with a shining forehead, a shine that can brighten a day, a shine that is so different from the rest of the world, .......athletic build with a tall body, ...a grave..God fearing man, with a heavy and strident voice, a voice that is deep and commanding, with hair so black and colour so fair...small light brown eyes, with a frightening stare, a man of commitments, a man of words.......Yes..he is my papa, a father so different, so strict, so loving, so caring and so possessive,..........a father like no child can have.......
Yes, he so different , different from all the fathers of this world, like other fathers, he never told us stories, neither did he play with us...but yes , he taught us...taught us etiquette, taught us to respect elders, to love others, to be polite and humble, taught us to speak in English, ......taught us mathematics........but a day before the exam...Oh God!!!!! I still remember his slaps...slaps on my face and thighs.......he always wanted us to be on top..may be on top of the world....that I never did. As children, we both hung on his arms and he lifted his arms up and we both hung high above the ground, may be he wanted us to rise...rise in our lives, high above all....
Yes, I remember, I remember the quite smile, the contentment on his face as I saw him walk on the gallery of our school on the result day.....with my sister's report card in his hands,,,,,,,he was happy, he was satisfied, his daughter stood first in her class. My sister's report had always been satisfactory, upto his expectations, either Ist or IInd in her class and this was the reason I always escaped from his eyes, slipped off my report card from his hands and he always gave a contended smile, happy with the card in his hands....
Although I always knew, he loved us, he loved us a lot, a lot more than his life, but still I was so scared of him since childhood....He was so strict, that some times we called him HITLER, although he never knew that......
Then slowly with time, as we grew up, he grew old, and though his hair became snow like since we were in std. 3 , he coloured them golden (brown), with the colour of henna, ....We used to value even a single hair that fell from his head, calling it costly, costly like GOLD, since it was the GOLDEN hair, or more importantly golden hair of our papa, and he used to smile, smile only a little, but we knew that he was hiding his smile from us, ..........the reason ......we never came to know....and slowly time took away the jungle of golden hair, and left only a few of them, very thin, and soft,....cotton like..,though still golden...
I have seen him helpless too....., helpless with tears in his small light brown eyes.........eyes that were no longer frightening......but pleading......pleading to save his daughter's life.......this was the time when my twin sis got seriouly ill......and had to be admitted in the hospital.......I have seen different expressions in his eyes, on his face,,,,,,since childhood,...to this age...
Yes, he so different , different from all the fathers of this world, like other fathers, he never told us stories, neither did he play with us...but yes , he taught us...taught us etiquette, taught us to respect elders, to love others, to be polite and humble, taught us to speak in English, ......taught us mathematics........but a day before the exam...Oh God!!!!! I still remember his slaps...slaps on my face and thighs.......he always wanted us to be on top..may be on top of the world....that I never did. As children, we both hung on his arms and he lifted his arms up and we both hung high above the ground, may be he wanted us to rise...rise in our lives, high above all....
Yes, I remember, I remember the quite smile, the contentment on his face as I saw him walk on the gallery of our school on the result day.....with my sister's report card in his hands,,,,,,,he was happy, he was satisfied, his daughter stood first in her class. My sister's report had always been satisfactory, upto his expectations, either Ist or IInd in her class and this was the reason I always escaped from his eyes, slipped off my report card from his hands and he always gave a contended smile, happy with the card in his hands....
Although I always knew, he loved us, he loved us a lot, a lot more than his life, but still I was so scared of him since childhood....He was so strict, that some times we called him HITLER, although he never knew that......
Then slowly with time, as we grew up, he grew old, and though his hair became snow like since we were in std. 3 , he coloured them golden (brown), with the colour of henna, ....We used to value even a single hair that fell from his head, calling it costly, costly like GOLD, since it was the GOLDEN hair, or more importantly golden hair of our papa, and he used to smile, smile only a little, but we knew that he was hiding his smile from us, ..........the reason ......we never came to know....and slowly time took away the jungle of golden hair, and left only a few of them, very thin, and soft,....cotton like..,though still golden...
I have seen him helpless too....., helpless with tears in his small light brown eyes.........eyes that were no longer frightening......but pleading......pleading to save his daughter's life.......this was the time when my twin sis got seriouly ill......and had to be admitted in the hospital.......I have seen different expressions in his eyes, on his face,,,,,,since childhood,...to this age...
Although he had been strict, very very strict, that we often got reprimanded rather lambasted from him, but that strictness had his love hidden behind it and that strictness had a serious intention of making his children worth...worth of affection from others, worth of achievements in life...., worth of helping others,..., worth of everything......though we hated him sometimes when he caned us, but today we respect him a lot....for, it was his hard and fast rules that made us what we are today...and we love him, love him a lot........THANKS FOR EVERYTHING PAPA....
respect..
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