I had written a post on my grandfather over eight years ago describing his 91 years of life. Little did I know I would re-open my blog site to write something about my father a few years later today, attempting to describe his 57 years of life. Yes,it is as depressing as it seems. So young, so handsome, so vibrant and full of life. He was like a superhero whose superpowers were, well..
1. To talk. Mostly about himself. And also about how others were idiots and he was not. Imagine growing up listening to so much talking. Result- your ears hurt but you CANNOT tell him that. My dad took offense easily.
2. His 'larger than life' confidence. I don't know anyone with so much confidence. Period. He should have been a politician.
3. His ridiculously impressive bravery. He got his Brahmin daughter married to a North Indian Muslim and showed it off like it was no one's business. We just didn't get covered in the news. That's all.
4. His cheekiness. He would tell a person he met five minutes ago, what he did not like about him/her and wouldn't care less about repercussions. I don't know many people who took that well.
5. His humor. I once laughed so much that I peed a little in my pants. Such a raw sense of humor he had!
6. Lighting up any gathering. He really, really did. He joked, talked, laughed. No one wanted anything more. He was the hero of every party.
7. His good looks. Not exaggerating, but some of my friends have had crushes on him. I think my husband did, too. He just won't tell me.
8. His judgement on everyone he met- everyone was beneath him. Blank.
9. His confidence in me. Again, ridiculously incredible levels of confidence in me, of which I have none.
10. His sense of solidarity. All of us had to be together for everything, even though it was annoying for some. We had to be together and that's it. No arguments.
He was fun, controlling, interfering, annoying, unconditionally loving, a dad, a friend, a husband. I wish he could annoy me, control me, interfere with my life a little longer to help me experience pure happiness, pure bliss, pure laughter and peace, all over again.
Thanks for having existed in our lives, Naanna. There's truly no one like you.
1. To talk. Mostly about himself. And also about how others were idiots and he was not. Imagine growing up listening to so much talking. Result- your ears hurt but you CANNOT tell him that. My dad took offense easily.
2. His 'larger than life' confidence. I don't know anyone with so much confidence. Period. He should have been a politician.
3. His ridiculously impressive bravery. He got his Brahmin daughter married to a North Indian Muslim and showed it off like it was no one's business. We just didn't get covered in the news. That's all.
4. His cheekiness. He would tell a person he met five minutes ago, what he did not like about him/her and wouldn't care less about repercussions. I don't know many people who took that well.
5. His humor. I once laughed so much that I peed a little in my pants. Such a raw sense of humor he had!
6. Lighting up any gathering. He really, really did. He joked, talked, laughed. No one wanted anything more. He was the hero of every party.
7. His good looks. Not exaggerating, but some of my friends have had crushes on him. I think my husband did, too. He just won't tell me.
8. His judgement on everyone he met- everyone was beneath him. Blank.
9. His confidence in me. Again, ridiculously incredible levels of confidence in me, of which I have none.
10. His sense of solidarity. All of us had to be together for everything, even though it was annoying for some. We had to be together and that's it. No arguments.
He was fun, controlling, interfering, annoying, unconditionally loving, a dad, a friend, a husband. I wish he could annoy me, control me, interfere with my life a little longer to help me experience pure happiness, pure bliss, pure laughter and peace, all over again.
Thanks for having existed in our lives, Naanna. There's truly no one like you.
