Lucks Looksy

Lucks looksy

These, and a myriad of other terms of endearments were often used by my dad to address me, his daughter-Lucky.How I had loved hearing these sweet nicknames my father used to make up . when he was ecstatic on meeting me, after a long separation, he would call me looksy my sweet sweet daughter and when he was just plain happy to see me it would be lucks, never Lucky and never ever Sulekha. The first thing I notice about anyone I meet is their eyes, the 
windows to the soul.No smile is complete untill it begins from the lips and ends at the eyes. My dad's eyes used to light up while smiling.I could see the shadow of his soul in them, specially when he used to greet me at the airport, a bouquet of the loveliest flowers in one hand and his heart overflowing with paternal love.Proud of his daughter, who he thought could do no wrong in life.The twinkling eyes are not around anymore and I sit and try to conjure up images of his smiling those special smiles. Always singing my praises and encouraging me to do something  with my life.His one pet peeve was that I wasn't independent. He always used to tell me to take up a job and stand on my own feet.Don't waste your education, be your own person.I tried as best as I could.

The all encompassing, pure and unconditional love used to surround me like a warm fuzzy blanket, keeping out the chills and spills of the negative people.I am shivering in the cold for the past two months, missing the blankey.But I needn't do that because he is with me every step of the way. His love surrounds me, his affections embraces me and his spirit lives in my being.My dad was an avid reader and an excellent orator, he was so fond of being the focus of attention that many a times , the microphone had to be forcily taken away from him during a function. He never read from a pre written speech, it was always impromptu and straight from the heart. No wonder everybody always gave him a standing ovation and the deafening applause reverberates long after he has gone away.

Lingering Scent

Clothes have a tendency to retain the perfume even after they are washed.The gown you had worn to the dance reeks of your Hugo Boss woman perfume, post wash.My son's school uniforms scream Axe doespray.My Dad's shirt has his smell,the woodsy,brylcreemy smell.I had bought a shirt for him on Nov 17th 2009,from Cottons in bandra.At that moment I hadn't known that it was going to be my last gift to him.It's a white shirt with little blue flowers,Dad had loved the shirt.On 8thJan2010,he had wanted to wear this shirt but it had gone for a wash and he couldn't wear it.I think he knew that he was leaving this world and going.My sister-in-law,Jyoti tells me that he had been very upset when he was told that the shirt was still wet.My nieces,Kavya and Diya had been playing Bob Marley's song,"Don't Worry Be Happy",On the computer and Dad was enjoying this number.All those who were lucky enough to be near him in the end, share their memories with me.I just listen and try to remember my last memory of him.

It was on Nov 22nd 2009,that I had last seen him smiling and wishing me good luck.I had been on my way to the airport to go to Delhi.I remember him giving me a sweet hug,he had lost a lot of weight but his hugs were still the same.I don't really remember whether he had come down to the car or had said goodbye from the 3rd floor.Had I known that it was the last time I would be meeting him,I would have told him that I loved him a lot and that he was my number one Man.The only person in this world who I could depend on,who would do anything for me,anything.I had so much faith in him,to get me the Moon even,had I asked for it.He was my own fairy Godfather.Now I am an ordinary person without any special powers,since he has gone away.

I have his shirt with me though and it smells of my Dad's brylcreem and deo and his special daddy smell.I can feel that he is close when I hold it in my hands.How do I bottle this fragrance?How do I keep it forever?

Mirage

Mirage

A tired, thirsty, and hungry traveler,
trudging through the merciless burning sand,
trying to get away from the relentless,
and scorching sun rays,
looks around in vain,for a little shade,
He just wants to get out of the heat and rest ,
he wants to get away.

Away from the hurt and the agony,
from the oozing blisters and raw and,
reddening wounds.
Away from the blinding and excruciating pain.
As he lies on the hot sand looking up at the sky,
he closes his eyes and through chapped lips,
prays for the cooling showers of rain.

Rain to wash away all the dirt and grime,
along with the pain and heartache of living,
alone and broken, hurting, burning,
feeling of inadequacy and shame.
He wants to be free of the desert.
To never be thirsty again,
to live in the cool shade of affection,
to escape the harsh, angry sun.

He sees an oasis up ahead and limps towards it,
his legs give way and he drags himself there,
oddly enough, it's still hot under the tree,
he looks around and finds that it was all in his mind.
Being out in the sun for so long had him hallucinating,
what he thought was the oasis was nothing but a mirage.
he knew that instant that it wasn't meant to be,
he had nowhere to go,
dying alone in the desert was his destiny.

Happy Women's day - Dad

I woke up this morning and wished my father a very happy women's day.Why?, because my dad is a firm believer of the strength of women power.He has always been a champion of this cause.I was born in the early sixties, when women were still regarded as secondary to men.My grandmother had beaten her chest and bemoaned the fact that I was a girl child and a second girl of the family , at that. That instant itself my dad had named me Lucky.He had asked her to leave the hospital and never refer to me as bad luck.

I was Lucky for him and he adored me.He got a raise and a promotion coinciding with my birthday.He loved me and my sister and made sure we were not discriminated against.I remember growing up in this household, where we were treated like precious and intelligent beings, whose ideas were appreciated and welcome.We were taught to respect ourselves and others.Never to be afraid of anything or anybody.I remember my mother nearly had a heart attack when my dad told us, if someone teases you or tries to act fresh with you, punch him in the face and make sure he regrets his actions.Women are to be revered and respected.

My father could never tolerate any woman being ill-treated, so many times he came to the rescue of young women who were being harassed. My mother used to be scared going out with him, because the moment he would see someone troubling any girl, my dad would be there rescuing her and in the process make enemies.He wasn't afraid and would tell my mom, imagine this girl is your daughter ,wouldn't you want someone to help her?.This was and is my great dad.I love him so much.Today is his second month anniversary.He left us all and has gone to a much better place and I am sure he has made that place heaven just by being there. miss you and love you lots.

Your ever-loving daughter
LUCKY