Lara's Theme

Like every other year, papa's birthday went off nearly unnoticed giving me no scope for celebrating his spirit or spending a relaxed five minutes to recollect the times we spent together. As they say, it's never too late to make amends. So here I am taking a lazy stroll down memory lane to bring back a little bit of his Princess in me.

It was the summer of 1990 and my entire family, along with some other family who had tied up to join in the weekend plan at the seaside at Chandipur. The sound of the waves was all I needed to hear. Having never been the sort to hang out with my brother or his friends or partake in any of my mother's incoherent discussions about pains all over here and there, I instantly held out my arms to my dad. It always made him smile.

Come to think of it, he actually spent most of his time observing me. It intrigued him that though I spent all my time either hugging him while he was talking to someone or sitting across him when he played a musical instrument, he could never figure out how I managed to get his packet of cigarette out of his pocket every night. He would launch into a huge treasure hunt around the house, much to my mother's dismay and my brother's envy and for a brief span of time, the sound of my laughter would resonate through the house as I ran into corners and away from him till he would catch me and fling me in the air. It was just the two of us laughing, but it was enough. Finally, I would give in and pull out his cigarette from my treasure chest... the back of a cushion cover, the unused corner of the mattress we were sitting on and even, his left pocket! Having a very strong right hand mind, my father (like many others) never bothered to check his left pocket as he rarely ever used it.

I remember snatches of conversations, especially the ones where I would be so lost in playing with my dolls and talking to them that I would forget his presence and his sudden comment would leave me red-faced (in shame and fear). He had a strong aversion to any reference I made of resorting to violence. The otherwise dark and silent figure listening intently into his daughter's make-believe world over a few cigarettes would suddenly sound an uncomfortable grunt, mutter under his breath for a while and lose himself all over again.

Yes, dad has always been the backbone I could rest my life on. I have never had to worry about his approval to anything I do as he would always be there to accept the person that I am. It might take him time but he would come around to accept my decision and understand the reasons behind them.

We are pretty much the same even now. Sometimes when I wake up in the morning and find my packet of cigarettes mysteriously missing, I cannnot help think about the old days and laugh. Love you Dad!