A finger that meant the world to me a hand hold a universe of its own. A child so glum a child so small was creating its own web around a man.. who gave a path to all his journey. A day that started with drops of water spreading on the face.. a hand that ensures that I a saw a new morning & did not fall back. I cried..I ran..he ran with me to ensure i reach the best school in town. & was there to take me home to happy lap of my mother whom with I was more at own. He just saw from far & went back to work. A man so disciplined in his deeds was a slow imbibing force that i tried to imbibe but was so far. He was a morning teacher & evening guide requesting, shouting & trying everything that was needed at that time & tide. I a normal bluffy child was not on that page..my page was on dreams to play play & play & he showed his anger in all his way. To all this was the irony that he was the one who made me hold the cricket bat, told his stories of child hood play & was in the audience when i played at some stage..he slowly clapped far away telling his friends, that is my child..a realization so late for me. His finger took me to all the places in my town & holded me up when i was down , I had a special seat in his cycle joying away on roads & reaching to every shop in the market. Every night his hand was a pillow for me which gave me the best sleep always. Slowly time flew away, but his aura of a super hero to me never went away as he was like this only, a person so supremely fit, a person so prompt, a man who was just a one step solution to every problem to me & family. He though was open minded man but not too much into daily discussions with me from child hood to adolescence, He was the one whom with I take nods & nots for things to do, but my joy was with my friends whom with I played , laughed & spent most of my evenings, that also some time left away me with less quality time with him & family. Off late in last 6-7 years, he opened up a lot with me & to my grace i seen a other facet of him. A person who will have rounds & rounds of discussions with you on politics, cricket & much more to cover. He will give you riddles to crack on everything that will come to his mind. He will make you sit with him & tells you his each span of life, his ups, downs, his struggles, his victories, all woven in stories of its own kind for which i will make fun of him by reminding of books of these type sold in buses. His disease was a shock to him & dented him emotionally , but that never made him run away from doing all works he had been doing all his life for family, running to market, ironing clothes on his own, depositing e bills, booking cylinders, making budget & all you can think. These things were so close to him that he liked participating in all of it. I being with him for most of time, was just a meek observer & never learned, just saw it from a lazy couch , never felt that what shoes i was creating to be filled. He wanted to live the long life for me & did all prevention & precautions prescribed by the doctor & more over described strictly by me & my mother. Emotionally though he would fall apart some times, as these medications were like bullets to his ego & strong image that he has created for all of us. Sometimes he would cry hiding his face or suddenly he will gel a poetry on his own & make you laugh. He will plan each event with you with all knitty gritty &then see it till the event is finished, though lastly his plans had not got the endings he want & then he will cry again cursing himself & god. An epitome of self belief he was & best servant to god, was not given fair treatment by the lord . He took me to surprise off late by some times when I was low by keeping a hand on my shoulder & promising to me that he is there & will try to be with me in every coming thick & thin. Lastly he went in to Surgery with no qualms in his minds, his doubts were not with him. He gave a last exam of his life for us & fighted like a warrior in all his last days , despite his body not supporting the same. At that time also even when he lost his strength to speak was first to remind me that everybody has missed by birthday by Hindi date. In last state of Consciousness in highest of pain, he smiled & wished me birthday through his waving hands to victory. A victory that was meant for him was given to me as he succumbed to heavenly abode leaving me alone in this world from which he shielded me, he left a child with no hands to hold just into no where. I know you are watching me, but i want to talk to you....remember..we have many discussions uncompleted..... Today being Diwali I need your hand to hold my table when i reach out something, why you are not checking the lights that they are working or not?..where is the long list of things that you will buy today, why are you not asking which sweet i want, where are crackers papa, who will run the first cracker in the night.....mammi n riddhi all are preparing aate ki pakodis & kachodis for you....just tell me what you want... why are you not telling...nobody will stop you from eating them now....why are you silent..no no...you cannot do this...no no you cannot do this....promise me to keep your invisible hand during all my short life with me so that i can be an inch of what you were & be a carrier of journey of what you dreamed for family in life full of sacrifices...
