About My Dad…

An unforgettable and amazing philosophy that he shares with all his brothers – the slower a fan moves, the cooler it makes the room. Yes, you got that right. He thinks that if you come from a killer hot weather outside and sit under a fan that moves at 1, you’ll feel good. At 5, the air just gets trapped near the ceiling. Not forgetting the noise pollution that it creates at such speed. And this is something that ALL Bhardwajs except the brothers laugh at all the time. Non-stop. Really! We wonder who taught them Science. Or maybe philosophy. At least the teacher succeeded in making his students remember the lesson.

And the songs that he sings! I am willing to bet a thousand bucks if someone can figure what song he is singing. They’re all original. Weirdly original!

He has accompanied me for every new thing in my life – admission to college, internship-first days, entrances, interviews, etc. All of it! He’ll make adjustments in his schedules even if Mamma is free to go with me and make sure that he’s the one.
When I had started going to IMS, or was interning and used to reach back home late, he used to have Maggi ready for me in my favourite plate (yes, I have a favourite plate. A favourite glass too. Can we focus on the topic, please?). It was really cute.

FMS was his dream for me. He had temperature but had decided to wait for me outside on the day of the exam. All those hours! I knew that the exam didn’t go well as I walked out the test centre. And told him the same. He didn’t say anything to me but his face gave it away. That moment hurt me more than my disappointment after CAT and MICA results. I wished some miracle happened. But I don’t believe in miracles myself for one to happen.

But oh, God save you if you are at the receiving end of his anger. I know at least I can’t utter a word back. The last time it happened, I did. It got nasty and I hated doing it but I really wanted to do it. Sorry Pa, for creating a scene. Still not sorry for taking the stand that I did. :P

My family has 2 people whose names begin with an S, and two with an R. Pa’s the other R. So Mamma calls us the Bada R and the Chhota R. (Yes, we’re a weird family. Bhai will come across as the sanest but that’s because he talks the least. Anyway, focus please.) - This, for our resemblance in looks and in habits. We can both not tolerate a mess, we both get cheap thrills out of pulling Mamma’s leg, we’re both loyalists for each brand of things that we use, we both stay happy with our standard food (as opposed to the foodies that Ma and Bhaiya are) and we both find it too hard to express emotions at home. No huggie-shuggie father-daughter we are!

When we were kids, 10 o’ clock was the deadline for TV. So if Superhit Muqabla still had the no. 1 song to play, and it was 10 PM already, you know what Papa did? He used to pull the plug out of the main power point. Cruel, I’d say! They were going to play ‘Hum hain rahi pyaar ke’. But no rebuttal. You just went to sleep. Period.
(And I get a creepy feeling that being the Chhota R and being fond of discipline myself, I might just end up doing that to my kids. Hehe... But so what? They’ll turn out to be just as fine as me. Hee!) So yeah, a kind of an authoritarian environment at home while growing up but it’s all cool now. Poor Dad, doesn’t get to do much to his choice anymore. The rest of us force our tastes and wills upon him. We pick his shirts, we pick the restaurants to go to, and we decide that he needs something like surgery. Yeah, he’d kill to stay away from doctors. Horrid time that was!
Anyway!

So Pa, even though we don’t get you a cake every year like we do on Ma’s birthday, Bhaiya and I love you just the same. We’ve got a cake this year. We know you’ll be all awkward cutting it in the morning but chill. Have fun for a change. And have a very happy birthday!!! Too young to maybe say this...but God bless ya. :D