My Father

Daughters are always partial towards their fathers but I intend being honest here. My father is a very strong man, not just physically but mentally. He has been a pillar of strength to our family. A genuine person, brutally honest and a task master!

Daddy, as I call him, is a no- nonsense man and he calls a spade a spade. There is no mincing of words which I sometimes regret as I prefer a little sugar coating to swallow bitter truths. He is a self-made man. He has had a tough childhood and has made it big on his own. To me, he is always the perfect man. His knowledge is vast. I call him my walkie- talkie dictionary cum encyclopedia. He has been tough on himself and thus, a very strict disciplinarian at home as well. I owe my value system to him. Loyalty, integrity, honesty and hard work are a few never- to compromise- upon traits. On my eighteenth Birthday, Daddy gave me a card that said, “You are eighteen and from now we are not father-daughter but friends”. I was thrilled as he was authoritarian. As I read on, it said, “Remember, I am the friend who is always right”. My father has always had a good sense of humour but only a few can catch on as he always keeps a serious demeanor. He has a heart of gold and never holds a grudge. He has his vices too. He is short tempered but once he cools down you can settle things amicably.

I find that I am more and more like my father but have a long way to go to achieve even half of what he has achieved.