It was a cold and wet afternoon, then the wind picked up. I had never seen trees sway with so much force. We gathered on the veranda and watched in awe. Then came thunder and lightning. I instinctively moved closer to my father and felt safe and reassured. My father was my pillar of strength ever since I can remember.
Years later, when I was a mother of three children, hearing his voice over the phone from miles away gave me strength and confidence as it had done on that rainy day when I was a little girl.
Papa found a solution to all my problems. I would go to him with my little worries about exams, school friends, or even deciding which clothes to buy (because I couldn’t decide for myself). Somehow I felt his opinion was the right one and it made me feel better. It wasn't just me, our friends and family members would seek my father’s advice about their children’s education, jobs, and marriages. We were all in awe of him.
Throughout my life, Papa’s actions and words served as a guide for me. I remember the day there was a fire in a small hut settlement in our neighborhood of Himayat Nagar. Families went past our house carrying whatever belongings they had salvaged from their burning homes. My father had food and money sent to them, at the same time he had the doors and windows of our house facing the street closed. When I asked him why he reminded me those families had just lost everything they had. How would they feel when they looked inside homes where people were safe and secure and carrying on their normal life? I realized then it wasn't enough to send money and clothing: my first lesson in empathy.
My Father
As children when we heard my father’s car come in through the gate we would stop running around and do what we were supposed to do! Often it was back to studying. Without saying much he somehow developed a sense of responsibility in us.
He never reproached us or showed he was upset if we made mistakes but suggested an alternate course of action even when we were adults.
This past week was Father’s Day. As I reflect on my father I want to write so much about him. What he meant to me. His strength of character, his intelligence, his kindness, his optimism. I don’t know if I can do justice to his extraordinary personality. My emotions still overwhelm me so I am rushing through these lines.
My Father, over the years.
The picture in black sherwani is the youngest picture I have of him
Papa treated everyone young or old, rich or not so-rich with respect. I remember one occasion when we were sitting in our drawing room with friends and my father received a phone call. He spoke in Urdu and his conversation was so polite and respectful that my aunt started laughing and remarked that this was surely one of my father’s rich patients. As it turned out Aunty was wrong, Papa was talking to someone who was going through hard times and needed help.
Papa was the first doctor in Hyderabad to have a Physician's and a Surgeon's degree. He was also a dermatologist and for some time a lecturer at Gandhi Medical College in Forensic Medicine, besides having his own private practice. He served as a Director of Nampally Hospital. Yet he always had time for his family and friends.
He would even accompany my mother, sister, and me when we went shopping. I remember him telling us once “If I could get the moon I would bring it for you.” I know it sounds poetic but my father was a very practical man so coming from him he probably meant it.
Papa loved his grandchildren. My sister and I often went to Hyderabad on vacations with our families. I can still picture him standing on the steps of the veranda waiting for us to come from the airport. He would welcome us with a bright smile and immediately engage the children in a conversation about our vacation plans. He made everyday activities fun whether it was going out to get their favorite chocolates, or preparing food for them. His strong and cheerful voice and my mother’s soft-spoken words would echo in my ears for days after I left Hyderabad and went back home.
When my father passed away my sister wrote “Papa was all love and no demands.” So was our mother. Their unconditional love was expressed in many ways through advice, encouragement, concern, and prayers for their children and grandchildren.
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