Dear Dad
Any man can be a father, but it takes a real man to be a dad. Mine is someone like that. Even better, he wasn't my dad but he was my appa. Appa has always taught me that true love came from little tears and lots of happiness. I don't remember when was the first time I addressed him that way but I am very sure it made him happy. Being a father of five girls, he knew how to make each of us fall in love with him differently. I fell in love with him at every different stage of my life.
One of it happened when I was 2. It might sound ridiculous how I remember something that happened when I was that small. Trust me it is possible. So, back then being an active kid I took the seed of an asam boi and stuffed it effortlessly into my nostril deeply and wandered around happily until my parents noticed that there was a disturbing smell coming out of my nose. They had no choice but to take me to the ENT specialist. The doctor informed them that a minor surgery was needed to remove it. My appa held me strong in his arms and looked at the doctor like a helpless little puppy asking him to be soft on me. His tears dropped all over me when I screamed my lungs out when the doctor injected me with anaesthesia to make me lose my awarenesses. I laid there in his arms sleeping peacefully and my sisters told me how he walked out of the ward crying his heart out despite the fact that this will never put my life in danger. I am not sure if any men in this world would cry for a girl who is healthy just having a slight breakdown. That alone defines a small part of my appa.
Moving on to the second stage of when I fell in love again with him. I was 5 and my mother prepared me all dressed up in a suit of light blue colored uniform. So I set off happily with him to a nearby kindergarten. The entire journey to the kindergarten, he said a lot of things to me which I do not remember. After registering me, he left me in the classroom and walked out crying. Yes. Crying. It is still fresh in my mind how he walked out quickly out of the classroom so I don't see his tears. Little did he knew, I saw him wiping his eyes and walking away worrying how his little girl is now grown enough to go to school. The moment he left the kindergarten compound, I started my orchestra of tears. I started crying until I see him again to pick me up. He carried me in his arms when the teacher complained that I cried without a pause. The very next day, I cried from home itself. He spent the next two weeks sitting with me in my classroom accompanying me. One fine day, he made up his mind and came up to a decision that I would be able to rock the lower primary without entering kindergarten and he stopped me from going to kindergarten. That action there, made me realize how much my dad trusted my capabilities that he was ready to make me skip the basics and jump straight to the next level. What else can be better for a girl than having a father who trusts her and not the norms of the society?
I fell in love all over again when I saw the way he treated my mother. It was one of the days I was coming back from school. I had a very annoying habit of yelling, "Amma!!" the moment I entered the house. That particular day, I saw dad's car was already at home. I got into the living room and he walked to me quickly and whispered I heard almost nothing, "Amma is sick. She has fallen asleep after taking her medicines. I will get you food or the two of us can go out and eat. Just don't wake her up." At that age, I was not aware that my father was setting standards for the man who will be my partner. Now I do.
I was more than sure that I wanted a loving and supporting man like him when I got back home for my semester breaks and I was sitting around with him in the living room. Since I had a joyful character, it was effortless for him to find out if something was bothering me. So he came up to me and asked what was pricking my mind. I had nothing to hide and so I told him how badly I have done my exams and that I would fail some of it. He did something very simple that I promised myself that I will never say this to him ever again. He placed his palm on top of my head, and easily said, "it is okay. You know I am not going to scold you. You can try again maybe come up with a better result next time. I am quite sure you won't fail. Even if you fail, it is just a stepping stone. What is life if you don't have a few failure stories that you can laugh about with your kids?" I smiled at him and hugged his arm. Deep in my heart, I knew what I said was bothering him and he was just trying to make me feel better despite being typical and scolding me.
He is someone who will never be tired of having me sleeping next to him even when I kick him all night long in my sleep until now(23 years old). Someone who checks and cleans my eyeliner if it ever gets smudged. Someone who has taught me how to drift in the middle of the road in case of emergencies and taught me to drive a forklift saying girls can do anything. Someone who has pulled my head into his shirt covering me so I don't get my head wet in the rain when crossing roads. Someone who would prescribe multiple medicines after knowing that I am suffering migraine and blocked nose like he has a medical degree himself(it worked almost all the time). A true lover, a fighter, my motivation and most importantly, MY APPA.
One of it happened when I was 2. It might sound ridiculous how I remember something that happened when I was that small. Trust me it is possible. So, back then being an active kid I took the seed of an asam boi and stuffed it effortlessly into my nostril deeply and wandered around happily until my parents noticed that there was a disturbing smell coming out of my nose. They had no choice but to take me to the ENT specialist. The doctor informed them that a minor surgery was needed to remove it. My appa held me strong in his arms and looked at the doctor like a helpless little puppy asking him to be soft on me. His tears dropped all over me when I screamed my lungs out when the doctor injected me with anaesthesia to make me lose my awarenesses. I laid there in his arms sleeping peacefully and my sisters told me how he walked out of the ward crying his heart out despite the fact that this will never put my life in danger. I am not sure if any men in this world would cry for a girl who is healthy just having a slight breakdown. That alone defines a small part of my appa.
Moving on to the second stage of when I fell in love again with him. I was 5 and my mother prepared me all dressed up in a suit of light blue colored uniform. So I set off happily with him to a nearby kindergarten. The entire journey to the kindergarten, he said a lot of things to me which I do not remember. After registering me, he left me in the classroom and walked out crying. Yes. Crying. It is still fresh in my mind how he walked out quickly out of the classroom so I don't see his tears. Little did he knew, I saw him wiping his eyes and walking away worrying how his little girl is now grown enough to go to school. The moment he left the kindergarten compound, I started my orchestra of tears. I started crying until I see him again to pick me up. He carried me in his arms when the teacher complained that I cried without a pause. The very next day, I cried from home itself. He spent the next two weeks sitting with me in my classroom accompanying me. One fine day, he made up his mind and came up to a decision that I would be able to rock the lower primary without entering kindergarten and he stopped me from going to kindergarten. That action there, made me realize how much my dad trusted my capabilities that he was ready to make me skip the basics and jump straight to the next level. What else can be better for a girl than having a father who trusts her and not the norms of the society?
I fell in love all over again when I saw the way he treated my mother. It was one of the days I was coming back from school. I had a very annoying habit of yelling, "Amma!!" the moment I entered the house. That particular day, I saw dad's car was already at home. I got into the living room and he walked to me quickly and whispered I heard almost nothing, "Amma is sick. She has fallen asleep after taking her medicines. I will get you food or the two of us can go out and eat. Just don't wake her up." At that age, I was not aware that my father was setting standards for the man who will be my partner. Now I do.
I was more than sure that I wanted a loving and supporting man like him when I got back home for my semester breaks and I was sitting around with him in the living room. Since I had a joyful character, it was effortless for him to find out if something was bothering me. So he came up to me and asked what was pricking my mind. I had nothing to hide and so I told him how badly I have done my exams and that I would fail some of it. He did something very simple that I promised myself that I will never say this to him ever again. He placed his palm on top of my head, and easily said, "it is okay. You know I am not going to scold you. You can try again maybe come up with a better result next time. I am quite sure you won't fail. Even if you fail, it is just a stepping stone. What is life if you don't have a few failure stories that you can laugh about with your kids?" I smiled at him and hugged his arm. Deep in my heart, I knew what I said was bothering him and he was just trying to make me feel better despite being typical and scolding me.
He is someone who will never be tired of having me sleeping next to him even when I kick him all night long in my sleep until now(23 years old). Someone who checks and cleans my eyeliner if it ever gets smudged. Someone who has taught me how to drift in the middle of the road in case of emergencies and taught me to drive a forklift saying girls can do anything. Someone who has pulled my head into his shirt covering me so I don't get my head wet in the rain when crossing roads. Someone who would prescribe multiple medicines after knowing that I am suffering migraine and blocked nose like he has a medical degree himself(it worked almost all the time). A true lover, a fighter, my motivation and most importantly, MY APPA.
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