When I logged in to gmail this morning, I saw an email from you and going by the subject line, I recognized it to be the long awaited pics from one of your recent trips. And to my surprise, I opened it with all eagerness not to see anyone else but you. A bunch of you went on that trip together and I knew that there were photos of friends in there whom I haven’t seen in more than a decade. Still, it was you that my heart wanted to spot. And I couldn’t help but smile.
The bond I share with you is so different than any other relationship I’ve experienced all my life. You stand out as the one person I sincerely look up to, yet the person I want to be different from when it comes to certain things. You are the person that warns me not to do certain things and not to come crying for help when things don’t turn out the way I intend them to, yet the person who is there first to lend me a helping hand even as signs of something going downhill show up. You are the person one person for whom I don’t profess my affection all that often, yet the only person whom I’ve grown love so dearly and selflessly.
It’s not always been rosy, this bond of ours. There have been highs just as there have been lows. I’ve experienced it all with you – love and hate, laughs and cries, fights and apologies, smiles and tears. Perhaps you remember the times when we’ve gone days without talking to each other and at then giving up, putting an end to it all at the same time because we couldn’t stand torturing each other that way. Or the times when you would call me to say how much you’ve missed hearing my voice over the past few days and how you would smilingly respond with a “well, I guess I just needed a reason to hear your voice” when I reminded you that we talked only hours ago. Well, that’s your way of saying I love you to me, and the smile and the long conversation that follows is my way of saying me too.
Coming back to this morning – I looked at the snaps, spotted you, the most handsome man in that group, and admired your salt and pepper hair and even your mismatched clothes, all out of that blind love I have for you. And I forwarded the photos to my sister, asking her to look at the man I adore so much and defended your outfit when she said “he’s handsome, no doubt. But his clothes, what’s going on there?!!??!?” That’s your own style, I told her, because it really is…it makes you stand out of the crowd, just like everything else about you.
And then I called Amma to tell her that you were the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. And her response to that was –
Your father is handsome, sure. But you should’ve met your grandfather and then you would’ve agreed with me when I said he was the most beautiful person ever.
Oh well, I guess every father has this effect on his daughter.
I love you, Appa.