I’ve been meaning to write for years, but it took my dad’s passing to finally nudge me toward the pen (figuratively speaking) and put into words the whirlwind of emotions that have engulfed me in the past year. I’m not sure if this is the perfect place to begin, but it feels like the right one. And perhaps this memory is a fitting gem to capture the heart of our relationship.
Like most dads, mine loved to give advice – plenty of it 😊. He had his own pearls of wisdom and guiding principles for how life should be lived. For many years growing up, his voice was a constant in my head. Whether I was navigating the city or flying across countries, his instructions echoed in the background.
My first instinct? Rebellion, of course. But in the quiet hours of the night, that rebellion would soften into reflection. And truth be told, 95% of the time (though I’d never admit it back then), his logic made perfect sense.
Some of his timeless gems that have stayed with me:
- Save 50% of your salary in your formative years; as you grow financially, aim for 70%
- Always keep a written list of friends’ and colleagues’ names, phone numbers, and addresses just in case of an emergency
- Keep all records – financial documents, government IDs, personal papers safe, secure, and organized
- And of course, his views on politics and religion, shared with passion and open-ended debate
I still hear his voice sometimes when I’m making a decision, or when I’m simply sipping my morning chai. It’s in the small routines, the careful planning, the sense of responsibility I now carry. Grief has a strange way of making you feel both heavy and anchored. And while I never got around to sharing these words with him quite like this, I believe, deep down, he would have felt seen, loved, and truly cared for.
He lived life on his own terms. A stubborn, strong, loving, supremely responsible, and deeply caring man with both a quiet and, when necessary, not so quiet conviction that shaped how we lived, learned, and loved.
My Head In the Clouds 