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April is my father’s birthday month and I couldn’t have found a better time to write about him. Losing a parent is very close to experiencing death and I have found it extremely difficult to accept the reality that he is not with me anymore. My tiny daughter found me sobbing one day and asked, “Why do you always cry?” I had no answer but that made me realize that I have been crying a lot. My elder kid has promised that when he grows up, he will make a Robot Dadu for me so I don’t miss baba anymore. They are too young to understand that I have lost him forever, especially my daughter and I just hug her when she asks, “Can dadu come when it’s my birthday? Why don’t you call him? Where is dadu?”
I try my best to keep him alive in our memories by sharing his stories and talking about him to my children. They have lost him very early in their lives and I wish they had their dadu with them for some more time. That is one reason I am writing this memoir so my kids know him better, remember him, read about him and try to grow up to be a gem of a person like him.
April has always been a joyous month, with the Bengali new year (poila boishakh) falling on the 15th followed by baba’s birthday on the 16th. One thing that made him happy instantly was food and with the new year around, it was a double bonanza for the entire family. New clothes, cultural events, delicious snacks, a variety of sweets, people visiting each other and a lavish meal, all made his birthday a happy time for us.
He was born in the small village of Burdwan, West Bengal in 1945. He was the youngest of eight siblings and was raised by a single mother. His father died when he was not even four and he had no memories of him. Being the youngest kid, with four elder sisters and three elder brothers, he was the pampered one. His favourite food was a plate of daal, bhaat, aalu-posto (potato gravy made with poppy seeds) with a slice of lemon. He loved sleeping, especially the afternoon nap, there was no chance he would give it a miss. He was not a morning person at all. He preferred walking even to far-off places and none of us could match his speed. He never owned a vehicle, not even a scooter and that is one reason he was the happiest to see me drive a car in a foreign land.
His favourite colour was blue and his favourite actor was Uttam Kumar. An evening snack that he relished was jhalmuri (spicy puffed rice) and we had big containers filled with a special kusum-muri that he would bring from his hometown Burdwan. He was an ardent lover of tea and I miss our tea time the most. Together we were always ready for a cup of tea, irrespective of the time and place. He loved celebrations and never shied away from cutting the birthday cake. He was happy with every tiny gift we bought for him and every birthday card we made.
His mornings started a little late, unlike my mother, who is an early riser. I remember the time when she enjoyed waking up as early as 4 am, would go for a morning walk, clean the garden and also start cooking. It was the aroma of the breakfast she cooked that would wake me up on most days. She would then prepare two cups of tea and they both would relax and talk about all the things the newspaper had in it. After having his tea, he would lie down again to do some leg exercises that the doctor had advised to reduce the knee pain. Maa made sure he doesn’t fall asleep again while exercising and that used to be a fun start to our morning.
He spent a good amount of time picking flowers in the garden, that had yellow casablanca, pink and white periwinkle, marigold, rose, hibiscus, jasmine, night queen and more. He had made a makeshift stick to reach the tall branches and returned with a basket full of fresh flowers. By then, it would be time for ‘second trip’ tea, that is what maa called it. It was baba’s turn to prepare it and maa would wait patiently for the world’s best tea to arrive. According to baba, tea required patience, and maa was always in a hurry!
They both enjoyed decorating the temple with flowers and after performing the puja, he would have his breakfast, chapati, vegetable curry and some sweets. At around ten, they both left for their offices, which were within a walking distance from home. They would return by 2 pm to have lunch, followed by a nap and then again go back to their offices to work till 5 pm. Most of the days he would bring home some lip-smacking snacks for all of us. Evenings were spent sitting on the veranda of our house where our neighbours would gather and we kids ran around and played outside.
For dinner, mom would make a very delicious vegetable curry, baba would knead the dough and my sister would make the perfect chapatis. My task was to serve four glasses of water. What else do you expect the youngest one to do? At night, he loved watching the television all by himself. At that time, we had doordarshan channel that would end at midnight and it was only after that he would switch off the lights and go to sleep.
Today, as I remember the old days, I wonder how things have changed, why has life become so busy? Is there no way we can switch to that simple lifestyle and enjoy every bit of it? Well, that is how baba used to spend most of his days, one that we can only dream of now.
Coming up next-
B – Birth of a daughter, yet again
I’m participating in #BlogchatterA2Z by https://www.theblogchatter.com
What a lovely idea! This is a great way to remember your father’s life. I enjoyed reading this.
Excellent start to the challenge. All the best.
G’day RR,
April is also the birthday month in my family (mum, me, mum’s sister, her son) but sadly my mother and her sister are no longer with us to celebrate. In fact this year will be the first birthday without my mum.
I loved all the reminiscences and memories you had about Dadu. I have written some memories of my mum on my personal blog. https://suewyatt.edublogs.org/tag/phyllis-wyatt/
Wow…Rashi…loved reading about your father and his routine…isn’t it amazing that your father and my father share the same birth month? 🙂
Will look forward to reading more about your father…
A good beginning with his journey, look forward to reading and know more about your connection with him in these posts.
Such a simple life he lived, and yet, it is the simplest things we miss the most no? Looking forward to reading more about your dad. Hugs and love
A heartwarming, touching post. Hugs.
And Jhalmuri… It’s been a LONG time…
Take care.
This was unbearably sweet and I agree with your dad – tea requires patience and a set formula.
What a heart-touching post it was Rashi. Being another Bengali, I could relate to the terms you have used here and the daily routine of Kaku was quite like ours. I prefer to choose this kind of simple living and finding joy of little things. Will be visiting your blog regularly.
I don’t know how I am going to get through the whole of April reading your posts, Rashi. I’m extremely sensitive and I can’t even imagine a life without my parents. I recently lost my FIL and that was hard-hitting. I have tears rolling down my cheeks when I type this because I understand how difficult it must be for you to pen this down. But you are doing the best thing you can possibly do right now by keeping your Dad alive through your words, especially for your kids. Tightest bear hugs for you and lots and lots of love!
A beautiful & heart-warming post. Well written!
Everything that is simple is beautiful and that’s the reason why I felt an instant connection with your beloved father’s routine. One can see that there is so much joy and positivity in simple day to day living. Credit goes to your father and mother as well for making it this way.
Hugs to you Rashi
I had tears reading this perfect tribute that has so many layers of emotions in it. I recently had a bitter fight with my Baba and I had been on a guilt trip. This is going to be hard for you to pen down everything but I can say that you are brave and I am so glad, you took this challenge with this theme. Looking forward to engaging.
Rashi, you have really round the courage to write about such a personal topic. I feel that it is not difficult to write about the ones we have loved and lost but it is difficult to share it with others.
This was such a beautiful post. I could imagine those idyllic days, life as we knew it.
Rashi .. this is so touching. I loved the way you described every event, I felt a part of me there gazing at the food and the flowers. Robot dadu be the best!
Such a sweet sweet tribute to a wonderful person like your dad. While nothing can be done to erase the pain of loss this is a lovely way of keeping him alive in memories and especially for your children to know their grand dad!
Much love Rashi! ❤❤
So much nostalgia and endearment pouring out of this piece, Rashi. I always believe that people who love food are the best kind of people and they’re my favorite. The two dishes loved by your father are similar to what I enjoy too. I loved reading about his daily routine. Looking forward to learning more about him as he seems like a person with a heart of gold. I’m sorry about your loss and about the fact that your children did not get a chance to know him better. But these posts will definitely help and I’m sure writing them will be a healing exercise for you as well. Love and strenght. Looking forward to the next 🙂
So much nostalgia and endearment pouring out of this piece, Rashi. I always believe that people who love food are the best kind of people and they’re my favorite. The two dishes loved by your father are similar to what I enjoy too. I loved reading about his daily routine. Looking forward to learning more about him as he seems like a person with a heart of gold. I’m sorry about your loss and about the fact that your children did not get a chance to know him better. But these posts will definitely help and I’m sure writing them will be a healing exercise for you as well. Love and strength. Looking forward to the next 🙂
Rashi…what a beautiful memoir-in-the-making. You have made your baba immortal by your writing. Looking forward to read all of your posts from this series.
Rashi, what a sweet post on your father! It is a wonderful idea to write about him so that the little ones can get to know him. I used to do the same after my father passed away. It was an unbearably sad occasion, and yet, he had done so much good that to think of him was to feel proud that he was my father. God be with you all, Rashi!