Remembrance of a father – Tribute to my best friend!

Remembrance of a father – Tribute to my best friend!

Children love, adore their parents; the parents can do everything for them. That is the norm.  I do that too. But, in my case, the man, I called Baba, was my best friend. He was a man, who exemplified the spirit of life; who never made any demand, never pushed me to higher and higher expectations; who shared this incredible closeness with me as a friend!

Babi(my nickname) and Baba shared the bond, still do. This year, when Brazil lost in the World Cup, I really felt sad as a Brazil supporter; but felt much worse as I had lost my best friend, with whom I would have dissected the match for hours.

My earliest recollection left a literally indelible mark on me. He was excitedly rushing to get the “Hamaan Dishtey” (pestle used for grinding spices) to the cook, as he was organizing a “feast” at our place for many friends/neighbors and relatives. He bumped on to me, split open the forehead; he bandaged the six-seven year-old Babi and was back to organizing the feast. That mark is still there! The man loved life!

I had a bit of unique growing up – my dad never went to the bazaar; my mom never cooked. Maa was the taskmaster, laying out the schedule and expectations, and, she did do lot of Pujas and temple visits, organizing social service at Ramakrishna Mission. A doctor, Baba spent incredible hours at his own medical clinic, visiting other hospitals; his spare time was all devoted to social work, sports, and hanging out with me and my sister. He liked the pendulum swing of sports from the depths of sorrow to dizzy height of joy. He liked sharing them with me; teaching me about the finer qualities of life – teamwork, dedication, handling pressure, commitment to goals – all in the realm of sports. I saw how he managed his time – from taking care of his patients to treating the Sadhus/Sanyasins at various Ramkrishna Missions/Bharat Sevasram Sangha to pulling strings to take care of the poor and sick. He was an Eveready battery!

I was at Ishaan’s age when Mohun Bagan lost 5-0 to East Bengal, with young rookie Bhaskar Ganguly in goal. Everyone in our member stands was saying “Paisa Kheyeche” – “Has been paid off”! I did not know the meaning; Baba explained; “Everyone has a bad day; do not judge someone based on one day.”  Both of us were devastated; but he was still teaching!

I remember my Madhyamik days – my mom said “no sports, no visit to Mohum Bagan ground before the exams get over.” My father and I reluctantly agreed; as relatives/friends gathered around speculating what rank to expect in the state-wise results, he and I planned out that Federation Cup would be my first tournament after the exams. Exams got over; well, so we thought – but my Maa’s definition of exams included my orals and work/physical education exams also. I remember we had a big fight; with my father winning for a change, and, us celebrating our Fed Cup match with a post-match dinner at Aminia’s. What a father!

Back in 1986, I got offered a great internship at Software Research Institute in Pune – one of five students selected from all over India. I came home from Kharagpur and excitedly gave the news to Baba. His reply – “Takhon to World Cup?” “There is World Cup at that time?” I realized – what he meant. With that being my last summer before I graduated, how could I even think of not watching the World Cup with him? I quickly got it changed to Bhabha Atomic Research Center in Salt Lake. Someone else felt lucky that he got to go to SRI; I felt luckier spending my last summer before graduation watching World Cup at night with dad.

Fast forward to me graduating and leaving for America. The day I was leaving, he just could not leave his clinic to spend time with me. They were so many relatives, friends, neighbors – I wanted him. Then, I sat with him as we drove to the airport; I pressed his hand against me and was crying. He was stoic; my mom said when I talked after reaching US – he went off to see some patients at night. I know – he just could not be at home; he had just said good bye to his best friend. Me too, Baba – I cried the whole way – no more late night cricket watch with him, no more Mohun Bagan matches, no more chats about life, about the good or bad; about what to do and not to do!

He was given to simpler choices; never flaunted his wealth or repute. He had one famous advice for me: “If you have lost money, you have lost nothing. If you have lost your health, you have lost something. If you have lost your character, you have lost everything.” He measured people by their action; he had a strict sense of right and wrong. I remember – he never said that I cannot drink or smoke. He said “Babi, if you really find real joy and real friends, you do not need a drink or cigarette to make you happy. It is OK if others do.” When everyone was worried about my choices in hostel life, he was sure – “I trust Babi.” He had his conviction – he has raised Babi right.

Finally, when he was withering away, I had gone for one last trip to see him. With Maa away and me holding his hand,  I asked him “Baba, tell me-  have I been a good son?” I will cherish his reply – “Prosnoi othena” – No question at all!

I still miss him – miss giving him a call for advice, for just venting, for sharing good news, for sharing something I did with Ishaan or Trisha just like him, for saying thanks for teaching me about life. In this modern materialistic world, he stood out as a simple man, who did not flaunt his successes, who taught me the right and wrongs of the world, to judge people on merit, to enjoy the true meaning and worth of life.

Baba, you were a true friend, who happened to be my father. If I can become a fraction of the father you were to me, I would consider myself lucky.  May you rest in peace!