I felt as if someone had just thrown a bag full of mixed emotions right on my face.  I was experiencing shock, remorse, regret, guilt, nostalgia, anger, peace, loneliness and so much more at the same time. I felt as if it was the end of the f***king world. It took a long time for that harsh fact to sink into my soul. 

My dad, a person whom I loved so much, was gone.

He was never going to come back again. I didn’t know how I was going to lead my life as his daughter now. It took me a long time to finally accept that my dad was no more. Slowly I started feeling more at peace with myself.

I found ways and means of keeping him alive through the stories that people shared with me.

They all had some memories of him. Whenever I talked to someone who knew my father, I would keenly listen to the stories that they had to share about him.

Once I visited my family doctor for a health check-up. The doctor said, "Your father had the willpower of a superhero. I respected him for the way he survived for the last 10 years. He was suffering from kidney problems and so many other ailments troubled him. He had to take your mom’s psychological condition too in his stride. He was always so worried about all of you. Yet he never showed any of this on his face.”

I felt so proud of being the daughter of such a strong man. But I was filled with remorse because he had to suffer so much. But I did get some sort of peace when I listened to the doctor’s words.

My father’s friends too talked highly about him. Some of his old acquaintances sent in their condolences as well. All my family members, family friends and the other people he knew narrated stories about him whenever they met me.

Slowly I started discovering a completely different side of my father.

I discovered his interests, his talents and came to know about all the things that he did as an adolescent and when he was still a bachelor.

These were things that I had never heard of before. I never knew that my father was capable of such things.

By the time I grew up and knew him well enough he was already suffering from various ailments. Yet he worked really hard to make ends meet.

I knew he loved collecting books. He had always wanted to open a library of his own. He would never let anyone throw his books away even when they had turned yellow with age. That is one trait that I have inherited from my father.

I now keep him alive through his books, tales and photographs. He continues to live through the wisdom that he passed on to us. He has left behind some of his prized possessions for me and I talk to my father through all these things that belonged to him. I discover some new facet about my father every day.

But initially, I was filled with guilt. I felt guilty because I had not spent enough time with him. I felt guilty because I could not understand his love and care. I felt guilty because I felt I hadn't respected him enough.

I felt guilty because I never felt grateful for all that he was doing for us. It’s true. We never understand the value of someone until they are gone. I regret the fact that I am one of those people.

Now whenever I miss him, I take a walk down memory lane. I go through his photographs and books and listen to all the tales that his friends have to tell. It gives me a lot of peace.

I try to do things that would have made my father proud.

Sometimes I wish my father had taught me the art of public speaking. I am petrified of the stage. Stage fear brings out the worst in me. Dad would often address various types of crowds when he was young. He hosted several programmes on awareness and did a lot of social work too.

So now my next goal is to learn the art of speaking in front of an audience. I want to bring out this facet of my father in myself.

So here I am – on my father’s birthday – expressing my thoughts on a digital platform. I know this is just the beginning of a long journey…..

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