Baba

A father is his daughter's very first superhero. The relationship between a father and his daughter can shape her self-esteem and view of the world, providing her with a sense of security and confidence. It is a connection that is built on trust, mutual respect, shared values, creating lasting memories and a deep emotional tie. 

Such was the bond between me and my baba. We were a small happy family of three ~ me, maa, and baba residing in one of the oldest localities of South Kolkata. I grew up in one of those South Kolkata homes that date back to the colonial era, showcasing a blend of European and Indian design influences. We have those large verandahs and high ceilings that provide a glimpse into the lifestyle of Kolkata's elite in bygone days. 

I remember baba carrying me all around the house on his shoulders and me trying to touch the ceiling of the rooms. Obviously, I failed. But I thoroughly enjoyed this little game that baba and I played almost regularly growing up. 

Maa is a workaholic but baba was the flag bearer of 'work life balance'. He used to drop me to school every morning and also was a hit amongst all the other mothers who used to come to drop my friends. In that crowd, he literally was the odd one out, or the most unique. He even picked me up from school regularly and this was the best part of my day as he always got me this special chicken sandwich from a bakery named Sugar and Spice right next to my school. The sweet lil things that daddies do for their lil girls!

Soon this lil girl grew up and decided to move to Bengaluru for college in April, 2010. I wanted to be more independent and embrace new experiences. Maa and baba were happy with my decision and supported me whole-heartedly. Even though they realized they would be missing me a lot and vice versa, they knew that moving out for college would be a significant step in my maturation process which would help me learn to navigate the world on my own.

I was packed and ready to head to the airport. I asked baba to stay back home. I touched his feet, took his blessings and started for the airport with maa and dada accompanying me. Baba was sad and so was I. We had a similar nature of suppressing our emotions instead of expressing them, and that day, we did the same. Barely looked at each others' faces because we were both trying to hide our tears. 

I reached the airport and took the very first flight of my life! It was such an exciting moment filled with anticipation. The buzz of travelers and the sight of planes taking off felt surreal. I felt a mix of nervousness and thrill. The sensation of lifting off was unforgettable, accompanied by a rush of adrenaline. As I was soaring through the clouds, the vastness of the sky evoked a sense of freedom and adventure in me, making it a moment to cherish and remember. 

Bangalore was exactly how I expected it to be. Vibrant and diverse. I was enjoying this vibrant social life with plenty of cafes, street food joints, malls, and cultural hubs like MG Road, Koramangla, Church Street, finding solace in it's rich indie music and live gig culture. Bangalore prepared me for global challenges while offering a memorable college experience filled with friendships, creativity, and personal growth. 

Then came the day when my life turned upside down - 29th September, 2010. It was a sunny Wednesday morning when I received a call from my cousin mentioning that I needed to get back home urgently. Baba had fallen sick and was hospitalized. No one told me what happened to him, I was just asked to get back home. I packed as quickly as I could and headed for the airport. Overthinking, being one of my specialties, often leads me down a rabbit hole of possibilities, both fascinating and exhausting, making even the simplest of the things feel like a complex puzzle. I kept wondering for those two hours in the flight what could've gone wrong all of a sudden but never could I have possibly thought this is what life was preparing me for. 

Upon arrival, my cousin came to pick me up. I sat in his car and asked him what was wrong with baba. He asked me if I was hungry. I grew anxious and said NO. After driving for a bit, he told me that baba was hospitalized for the last seven days and that morning he had passed away due to a cerebral attack. For a few minutes, I couldn't even fathom what he was saying. I sat quietly in the car and didn't speak to him till we reached home. We reached and I got down from the car only to see baba's lifeless body wrapped in a pristine white cloth. His face, calm and serene in death, was adorned with a thin sandalwood paste, a faint vermillion streak running across his forehead. A garland of white jasmine lay over his chest, filling the air with a bittersweet fragrance. 

I clutched my mom's saree tightly, my mind racing between disbelief and grief, as the mourners whispered prayers around me, readying baba for his final journey. I finished all the rituals and got back to a temporarily full but empty house. Even though I had too many questions to ask, I just couldn't. I couldn't bear to see my mom in the condition she was in. I couldn't bear to be in that house without baba. 

Life changes irreversibly in moments like these. Familiar routines suddenly lose their meaning, the things that once seemed urgent now feel trivial, and an unspoken maturity takes hold, compelling one to shoulder responsibilities they never thought they'd have to face. 

Amid sorrow, life became a reflection of his values and memories, as his absence silently guided the choices and paths ahead. Every decision I took and will be taking in the future, will carry the echo of his wisdom, like an invisible hand steadying me through life's storms. 

Though he may no longer be by my side, his blessings remain eternal, inspiring me to rise and thrive.