Pills, you have to need to be happy. Need, not want, you told me, two years ago. Setting me off on a deep and delirious dance of self discovery. Seeing me as I was meant to be seen - as a writer, long before I even started on a single MS. And, when I worried about how it would feel about quitting a full time, high flying Vice-Presidents job, anxious about maintaining my personal expenses, asking for money from parents, whether Id ever get published, you smiled, placing your warm palm over mine, looking me back, and adding the three words that continue to be my strength and salvation on lifes oft bumpy roads. I am there, you tenderly assured. You are not my Father. You are everything good. And pure. You are the kind of man I am teased that I shall never find. You are a lover to my mother. Her champion. You are my buddy & nagging mother-in-law, my critique and creative comrade. You sleep early. To wake up, daily at 6.45 am, travel hours on end, beating crazy traffic, to the same wkplace, in Gurgaon, you never tell us how your day went. If you are troubled. You never ask me why I overshot your credit card or when I dream impossible dreams or am angry with just about every social injustice. You still check price tags, and never splurge on yourself. You are my reward. My reality check, and my rainbow. You are the coolest pop. I can bum a ciggie from you, at times, and ask you to fix me a Bacardi & coke. We travel like gypsies, shop like czars and sleep till 12;) We groove to Tamil songs, and watch the same scene in Nayagan, a million times, over. The scene between father & daughter. The only scene where there are no words. Happy Fathers Day! N Krishna Rao. I love you. The mostest:)
Posted on: Sun, 07 Sep 2014 06:26:51 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015