My father passed away on Thursday morning. He was unwell for a couple of days and he was in the Emergency Room. He was stable initially and he was talking to me. But on the second day morning his system crashed and he was on life support. The doctor had gently told me on the first day itself that they’d do their best but I should be prepared for anything. My dad has been in the Emergency Room a few times in the past and he is strong and he has always pulled through. So I thought that he’ll pull through this time too. But unfortunately it was not to be. The funeral happened in the same evening in a small private ceremony.
Dad was a teacher during his working years. He taught history in high school. He taught for many years in Ethiopia. Dad was a great teacher and his students always loved him and his fellow teachers loved him and admired him and continued being in touch with him and continued visiting him even after he retired. He mentored many young teachers who came to work with him and they were always grateful for his kindness and continued to celebrate their friendship with him.
We talked a lot about history when I was young and Dad inspired me to read more on history. I learnt how to look at both sides of a historical issue from him and make up my mind about it after looking at the facts. Dad told me about famous historians like Edward Gibbon, Arnold Toynbee, E.H.Carr, P.E.Roberts, Vincent Smith, William Shirer and CDM Ketelbey. My dad used to rave about CDM Ketelbey. I discovered later that CDM Ketelbey was Caroline Doris Mabel Ketelbey, who was a famous historian and one of the few women historians of her time. I later got to read the work of some of these historians and learnt to admire their work.
When I grew up and went to work, I got many books on history for my dad and he loved reading them. A few months back I gave him a book on Mughal history by Abraham Eraly called ‘The Last Spring : The Lives and Times of the Great Mughals’. He looked at it, checked the contents page and gave it back to me. I asked him why he was not reading it. He said that it was huge (it is around 900 pages) and he doesn’t have the mental strength to get through it now. He said that he could have read it a few years back but now it was too much for him. I took the book and kept it on top of a book stack nearby and let it be there. Dad kept looking at it everyday and at some point he couldn’t resist and he took it down and started reading it. Once he started reading it, he couldn’t put it down. Dad is a very disciplined reader – he reads a few pages every day and he doesn’t get distracted by any other book and continues till he reaches the end. He gives each page, each sentence, each word, the respect it deserves. So Dad read this book and finished it in around three months. That was the last book he read. I’m glad I nudged him that day to read it.
Dad was also very passionate about the news and current affairs and read the newspaper cover-to-cover everyday. We also got many magazines at home, some on current affairs and some cultural, and he read all of them. When the civil war broke out in Ethiopia a few years back between the federal government and the Tigray government, he followed it with concern, because Ethiopia had been like a second home to him. In recent times when Russia invaded Ukraine, Dad followed it closely. The present situation in Gaza started a few days before he went to the hospital, and he must have been pained by the tragic happenings.
Dad also got me my first ever library card when I was a kid which was instrumental in shaping me into the reader that I am today.
Dad also loved sport and he was a big cricket and football fan. He also became a tennis fan later. He told me a lot about cricket history and it inspired me to read more about it and get to know about cricketers from the distant past. We used to watch many cricket and football and tennis matches together. I’m not a big football fan, but whenever the World Cup came around, I sat with him and we watched the important matches together. Dad always used to tell me about Maradona’s ‘Hand of God’ goal. The cricket World Cup is going on now and Dad was following it with interest. Now unfortunately, he’ll never know how it ended and who became the champions. Dad was a huge fan of the West Indies team and he used to rave about Sir Frank Worrell and Walcott and Weekes and Viv Richards. I went and read a biography of Worrell after Dad told me about him. It must have given him a lot of pain when the West Indies failed to qualify for this World Cup.
As a parent, my dad treated my sister and me equally. He created equal opportunities for us, and inspired us to be independent, which was very rare for Indian parents from his generation. (Indian parents from his generation created opportunities for their sons and got their daughters married.) It inspired my sister and me both in becoming confident and in becoming independent. Though my sister and me have very different personalities, my dad’s parenting style and my mom’s love shaped us into the people we are today.
I loved my dad when I was a kid. He was my hero. But when I became a teenager our relationship became complicated and it stayed that way till the end. But he loved me in his own way and showed it in many ways and in small acts of kindness everyday.
Dad was from a poor family and he went to work when he was seventeen. The way he dragged himself and his family out of poverty with his hardwork and determination was very inspiring. This was much before my time but when I heard stories about it from my dad or other relatives, it was always very inspiring and I used to get goosebumps. Dad was the only master’s degree holder among all his relatives from his generation. I still can’t believe how he did that with all the other life challenges he had.
I still can’t believe that he is gone. The house feels empty. Everyday morning when I got up I used to see Dad in the living room, reading the paper, after having had his tea. Today morning when I woke up, I almost expected to see him reading the paper, but there was no one there. Life is so ephemeral. It also makes me think that we should celebrate and enjoy life while we are around.
Dad was a strong, beautiful, good, kind, generous person. When he was young, he was very handsome and his female colleagues and his male colleagues’ wives used to rave about him and flirt with him. He valued hardwork and discipline and honesty. He valued a rich interior life over material wealth and he spent a lifetime improving his mind. Unfortunately, he didn’t pass on his handsome genes to me, but hopefully he has passed on some of his other admirable qualities to me. I’ll miss him everyday.
Farewell Sweet Prince! May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
Vishy's Blog 