Dear Papa

I frankly don’t remember the last time I sat down and wrote you a letter. Could be that failed attempt at putting my cursive writing workshop to use at 5, or the ‘Best Dad in the World Certificate’ from Archies, when you came to visit me at boarding school.

I know that after all these years, this letter comes as a surprise to you. But as I looked through leather wallets and shoes, formal shirts and ties— I realized that a trip down memory lane is the perfect way to thank you this Father’s Day.

A million things make it to my ‘Thank you Papa’ list, but honestly it’s the simplest ones that win fair and square. Have I ever told you my dream car has nothing on your rumbling old Chetak scooter? The short trips to the milk booth were the highlights of my summer holidays, especially since you always caved in when I demanded ice cream. Thank you for keeping those orange popsicles our little secret from mom.

You were always a surprise, an endless source of entertainment. One day you would imitate Kishore Kumar with all your comical expressions, while other days you were Elton John, holding me in your arms, dancing to ‘Sacrifice’. I was always amazed, baffled even, at how a man could recite all dialogues from Sholay and Top Gun alike! You were Viru, Jai, and Maverick— all rolled into one. Thanks Papa, you gave me my daily dose of culture in ways I didn’t realize.

A lot of life lessons were learnt, some stuck, some I still struggle with. That earthen gullak taught me the essence of savings—a practice that has helped me every step of the way. You never just gave me money, whether it was my Walkman or that school trip to Nainital; you gave me the gullak, and encouraged me to fill it up. Thank you for helping me become independent enough to live the life we dreamed of.

I always dissed your ‘archaic’ ways, our heated EVOO vs. Ghee debate makes me smile— you knew Ghee was the holy grail, well before western nutritionists did. Your belief in ayurvedic products makes so much sense today—your logic wasn’t archaic Papa, it was the future.

Today, when your beloved granddaughter demands imported cosmetics, I grudgingly give in… she too will realize the essence of Ayurveda soon – and one day, aloe vera gel will replace that synthetic moisturizer. Thanks Papa, for teaching me patience and trust— pillars I apply with the little one every day.

You never believed in occasions like Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, they always felt so frivolous to you. You said they were marketing gimmicks, but I know the real deal papa— it’s because every day was Daughter’s Day for you.