Appa - A son's memoir

Last month was a special one for me. I had my graduation ceremony where a Masters degree was conferred upon me and my friends. It was one of those markers on the number scale of life - when you stop and reflect on your life's passage, of how far you've come from where you were, those reference points you reminisce with a wistful smile, the moments which remain with you forever.

I'm not one to be choked by emotion usually, but it was hard not to be overwhelmed in such a setting. As the commencement speech began, and the speaker addressed our accomplishments and the import of each graduate's family towards reaching this goal, I was fighting back tears and wasn't ashamed to lose that battle.

I simply would not have been here if not for my father. Words cannot express the anguish I felt as I stood up to acknowledge the raucous applause from the crowd, and it engulfed upon me, yet again, that he wasn't here with us to share this momentous occasion in my life.

That sudden wave of sadness accompanied by an inexplicable void every time there's a reason to celebrate, be it accomplishments or festivities, will forever be an experience I will be unaccustomed to, and one I'd rather not undergo; it's cruel enough he left us when I was a teenager, having occasional reminders from God, to deal with it, doesn't make it easy.

Countless such moments have gone past and I'm sure there are many more to come, each as bittersweet as the next. I try to remain impassive, reminding myself it can happen to anyone, until frustration strikes and I fall to the traps of attachment and ask- "Why me?"

Losing him early has probably made me more responsible, value people and relationships more and learn to appreciate the finer things in life. But, given an option, I'd take him back in an instant, rather than learn life lessons.

Apart from a murky memory of making a greeting card for him, I don't have any recollection of celebrating "Father's Day". Which is probably good, in a twisted sense, as memories can be a double-edged sword.

What my father has done for us, goes beyond the expected paternal obligations. He was a gregarious and benevolent person, who routinely went out of his way to help family and friends. He had ambitious goals for us, but placed more emphasis on being good people first. To this day, we reap the benefits of gratitude we receive from all of them. And I'm glad those qualities of his have stuck with me, to some extent at least.

When I was a kid I always wanted him to feel proud of me. I may have failed then, but the kid in me believes he would be proud of who I am now. And I hope he's smiling from above.

With my father, in 2003.