Dad (daddu) never drives a car, he has always been scared about being at the drivers seat. His legs freeze when he has his hands on the steering wheel. So…he never drove a car or atleast I haven’t been passenger to a drive by Da. In the 15 years I spent in Oman, Dad always preffered to hire his company driver to take him to work and back…he also developed strong bonds with them (as he admired the courage of those who managed to move a car by its wheels). At time his friendship with his office drivers were really useful as very often they took us shopping, dropped us to picnic spots or otherwise just took us on an errand.
But Da was firm….he said he would never drive and he didn’t. He was not weak or scared…his weakness actually came from his strength…his family. He loves us and he personally did not want to drive the streets of Oman as he believed that the smallest of accidents on the streets could get his family in a no-no situation in a strange land.
Actually da is different. I cannot compare him to other dads (because everone has a best dad too)but he is minea and i cannot ask for anyone better. Keeping me happy has been dads past time hobby. I am hisjaan cum jaanu and i do get a little uncomfortable when people try calling me the name that i feel only dad has the right call me with. Well, earlier when i was a fat, round obese little piggy…da would call me batati or battu (meaning potato -batata). Again, no one would dare call me that…i would burst into tears feeling hurt and laughed at because of my appearance. But da…he could do anything and just get away with it.
I remember when i scored great results in my Xth…i had been in Mumbai for my college admission while da and ma were back in Oman. Later, Ma told me how excited daddu was when he heard about my results. We use to stay on the 4th floor and on that particular day the building lift had gone for a tizzy. Dad had done some four five rounds up down the building just to share his excitement with neighbours and call me and family outside from the ISD booth which was a kilometre away. He bought peda boxes and distributed it to his colleagues not even half- thinking about whether it fit his budget.
Then i remember my first offical interview at DNA in April 2007….six of us from college were called for the job….all came alone except for me. Da again came with me as i did not know the directions to the office well (again i have poor navigational skills — gee i can never give directions). The interiviewer called us in for the first round which was followed by the second. The ordeal lasted for over 3 hours. All that time, daddu waited below the building (not even at the reception – so that i wouldnt feel out of place with da around). He waited patiently….I got the job…..he was elated. He had a tear in his eye. He earned it….