Baba

Baba? Oh, he is busy with office work! He doesn’t have time for us. He is always tired. All he cares about is his office and nothing else. This is what I told myself every time I felt like approaching my father with something, because this was all I saw him do!

When it was decided that Baba was going to stay with me in the transplant unit, I wasn’t really excited. ‘It is going to be a month full of obsessing about work and office calls’ I thought. Given that Ma suffers from anxiety, I had no other choice. I agreed. Besides I could always video call anyone back at home. I prepared myself in all sorts for the month-long exile and when the day arrived, I was packed away in a room with Baba as my attendant. And in those 30 days, Baba proved me more wrong than ever.

For the first week, when I was at my strongest, we sat across from each other and chatted for hours, about world affairs, sports, political strategies, science projects and the hospital menu. He did a little cheer-up dance every morning and evening for me. I saw him attentively stare at physics blogs, and heard him plan he would finally start designing his ‘dream Arduino’ once we returned.

As my health started deteriorating, from the next week onwards, he started providing his undivided attention to me. He didn’t answer most calls from his office. He was anything but tired. He sat by me and stayed up almost every night looking at me, honestly, I hardly saw him take a nap. When extreme pain struck me, he ran to the nursing desk and back and vigorously stroked his hands through my profusely sweaty bald head. He sang me to sleep and whispered consoling words to my utterly distressed mother, trying not to wake me up.

By the beginning of the last week, I was able to gulp down sips of water. The doctors gradually took me off the intravenous food packets and put me on liquid (inedible) diet. Tears ran down my eyes at the sight of overcooked rice and boiled lentils, Baba noticed. He named the different foods served to me after my favourite restaurant dishes and I finished eating while thinking about them too! When I got tired of being trapped amidst the four walls, Baba dug up pictures of faraway destinations and planned elaborate trips.

A month passed in a jiffy with him by my side. This exclusive time with him wasn't bad at all, in fact I searched for him like a lost pup if I ever woke up to not find him around. All it took to make me think past the disturbingly complex medical terms was a glimpse of the yellowish white teeth peeking from under the bulky moustache. I never imagined I could grow this fond of Baba.

Throughout those 30 days, he did nothing but startle me. I always complained that my father hardly knew me, but it was actually the other way round, I hardly knew my father. Because time and again he proved to know my favourite food, my favourite destinations and what I needed to hear when, even though he never had a chance to hear them from me. He had observed, he had learnt. I, on the other hand had not. And when I realised this, all the complaints I had regarding my father pointed back at me.

I was the one who was always busy trying to keep up with the trends. I was the one who didn’t have time for him. I was the one who was always tired of not being enough in comparison to my peers. Baba was always there. Trying to read through my expressions, working hard, sacrificing on his own dreams to provide for mine.

I felt ashamed, I had always misunderstood my father. I don’t know if I will ever be able to make it up to him. But, I will always be sorry Baba, I always will be.