Dear Dad,

The guilt of surviving parent is always paramount. It is almost akin to blasphemy for someone to even mention that one may or has turned out to be the better parent in the equation. So no matter how much you do or not do, you are discounted. You are less hallowed.

I often imagine what its like. And it scares me. 

That fateful day in September 1999 when we first met. Yes I would say that. Because before that day you and I were two strangers living under a roof. Or as I joked with my friends, my ‘signing’ parent. Only time I managed to sneak a hi to you was on the once a year fancy parents’ day at school when it was compulsory for both parents to come and provide specimen signatures for the class year.

It was then that we would politely exchange my age, class and section. If the need be, my list of prizes for previous year.

But all that changed suddenly. It started with something as simple as, ‘change into your shorts and T-shirt. I don’t like this odd night suit that you are wearing’. We know your ancient hatred towards anything that can come close to a ‘nightie’. Though before that I did not know.


I will turn thirty this year. And you would be still as charming and handsome as ever. Still trying to sneak in a new fashion point in our face. Pulling off your aviators in swag. 

Last time you were home we were chatting up on our college memories and laughing our ass off remembering all the funny things you and me have done individually. Suddenly in the middle of it all, I smiled and said: I have turned out so much like you.

For a split second you became quiet. Then you shook your head and said : No, you have absolutely not turned out like me. You read so much, you are always writing. You do not play sports. You are an extremely ethical person, which I am not. You believe that having a purpose is more important than carrying out a daily routine. You are not me. You are your own person. And you should let no one make you feel anything but that.

I stared at you. I almost went into a sense of shock. The brutal honesty, the strong dismissing of that emotion which I was experiencing. Only you have taught me this. To speak what your heart believes is true. And of course the underlying point of it all- Individuality. Being my own person.

As a blogger, a writer, a wife and a human being I particularly face many battles each day which border on peer pressure.

“Do you want this because you think it is needed or because your friend has it too,” this was the usual question before every materialistic or not so materialistic need.

This question guides me still.

Thank you for being you. Thank you for always helping me discover the ‘me’.


Richu beta.

Connecting to #MondayMusings

P.S Today I asked a rather simple question over twitter, if you feel like answering then do so by a simple click on the poll. Or a comment below would also suffice.

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