Papa the great

He was here.



Gotta love those genes. I have so many of those. I realized as I grew up. And the older I get the more the realization that I am turning out to be like him.

A funny story. My grandmother that is my dad's mom was the daughter of the most feared man in all nearby villages. When she got married and was being brought to her husband's home in a 'palaki', some dacoits stopped her and her escorts. They threatened her to hand over her jewellery and money to them or they will kill her and stuff. Well, she being her father's daughter told them in no uncertain terms that she was the daughter of 'Yaadu' (short for Yaadram) and 'Bhakhtu' (short for Bakhtavari..God I love that name) and asked them to back off. The dacoits apologised and requested that she not mention this incident to her parents. True story.



Those genes came to my dad. How do I know? My dadi used to think that she was the prettiest woman in the village. Like she would make fun of other women who were not as good looking and call them names. She used to call my mom a hanger to hang clothes on and she used to call my mami, a broken cycle and so on. Wow. Some lady. That trait is there as it is in my dad. He is super proud of his looks. And he has a phd in giving names to people.

And talking of genes passing down generations, I may, just may, have those genes too. Some of them atleast. I'm not a name giver. Really. Promise.

Though I have a lot of the others. I, like my dad, would not like something but not say anything but keep getting irritated, then snap at the smallest totally unrelated thing. I, like my dad, will not ask you specifically to get me my medicines but totally expect you to do it and feel bad if you don't. I, like my dad, will sleep at night through most of the catastrophes of life (except a few, one or two maybe..the ones where we have to do something about the catastrophes). I, like my dad, am mostly unattached. I, like my dad, have very very rough palms. Like really rough. Sandpaper quality. Boys around me have softer hands and let me know that all the time. But what the hell! I, like my dad, am hardworking and hardwork shows on our palms. (Yes, that's how I defend rough palms.)

I could go on and on. The good thing is that I realize that I have some of his traits. Some traits that will not do me very good, like the non-expressive bit and I make very conscious efforts to change that. Atleast it's not like my sandpaper handshake that I can't do anything about!

Well, daddy dearest left yesterday (to go back home in mumbai) and that meant a trip to my favoritest place here. Now, I'm off to watch some star world and zee cafe which I had to give up for Barkha Dutt and Arnab Goswami.