In my younger days Sunday was a special day of remembrance because it was a family outing day. A visit to the church for the Sunday Mass, a good 15 km away from the Railway Quarters where we resided was the nucleus of the outing. My father used to bring out his well polished gleaming Hercules 24 inches frame England imported bicycle and I was made to perch on the kid's seat in front and my mother sat behind on the carrier seat, while my father effortlessly pedaled away. It was quite exhilarating with the wind gently blowing on your face and the accompanying scenery leisurely passing by. There was not much traffic on the roads those days and hence the ride was smooth and soothing so much so that sometimes I used to doze off and to be woken up at the church entrance gate. I do not remember much about the church services which we used to attend except that after the mass my father spent what seemed to me an interminable time praying before the statues of Mother Mary and St. Antony, While at prayer usually kneeling down, he would close his eyes tightly after lighting a couple of candles and with his lips moving silently and shoulder bent submissively forward, he used to pray what appeared to be like in a kind of an intense conversation with God. He continued to pray in almost the same manner throughout his life. I used to be deeply moved by his attitude of prayer.
While returning from the church I used to be fully alert and agog with excitement. I was looking forward to the lip smacking breakfast we used to have in the Irani restaurant. Usually it was a crisp masala dosai or a pair of puffy poories and to top it all we used to have a long glass of sugared milk crusted by a thick layer of creamy malaai. After buying some mutton and a few veggies we used to return home anticipating the mouth watering Sunday special my mother used to cook for lunch.
My father was not so much given to expressing his emotions outwardly, Nevertheless he loved me and used to tousle my hair whenever he felt like expressing his love.I do not remember to have been beaten or scolded by him but only once do I faintly remember to have received a few knocks on the head for some mischief I had done.He neither doted on me nor was he a strict disciplinarian. He was generally reserved but in the company he liked he used to open up and be an altogether a different person with the gift of the gab.He was very knowledgeable on most subjects so much so that people referred to him as the .'walking encyclopedia'
I used to enjoy my fathers company both in his eloquent silences and in his conversations. I learnt a lot from him. He was a caring and concerned father. I miss him very much for if he was alive now I would have rushed forward to share all my innermost thoughts and life experiences with him.
The saddest moment in life is to realize how much we miss a person and it becomes all the more sad when we know that there is no calling back when once the person is dead and gone. Particularly if the person happens to be your father.
While returning from the church I used to be fully alert and agog with excitement. I was looking forward to the lip smacking breakfast we used to have in the Irani restaurant. Usually it was a crisp masala dosai or a pair of puffy poories and to top it all we used to have a long glass of sugared milk crusted by a thick layer of creamy malaai. After buying some mutton and a few veggies we used to return home anticipating the mouth watering Sunday special my mother used to cook for lunch.
My father was not so much given to expressing his emotions outwardly, Nevertheless he loved me and used to tousle my hair whenever he felt like expressing his love.I do not remember to have been beaten or scolded by him but only once do I faintly remember to have received a few knocks on the head for some mischief I had done.He neither doted on me nor was he a strict disciplinarian. He was generally reserved but in the company he liked he used to open up and be an altogether a different person with the gift of the gab.He was very knowledgeable on most subjects so much so that people referred to him as the .'walking encyclopedia'
I used to enjoy my fathers company both in his eloquent silences and in his conversations. I learnt a lot from him. He was a caring and concerned father. I miss him very much for if he was alive now I would have rushed forward to share all my innermost thoughts and life experiences with him.
The saddest moment in life is to realize how much we miss a person and it becomes all the more sad when we know that there is no calling back when once the person is dead and gone. Particularly if the person happens to be your father.
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