“The monsters are gone.”
“I killed the monsters. That’s what fathers do.”
― Fiona Wallace
I’ve come across different kinds of fathers. The stingy one, the overly obsessive, the over protective, the non-stop traveller, the man buried in money, the playful one, the furious one, the perfectionist..
I’ve read stories of fathers who kill their daughters because she divorced her abusive husband. I’ve read stories of fathers who abuse – physically, mentally and sexually abuse – their daughters. I’ve read stories of fathers who died protecting their daughters. Of fathers who live in guilt that they survived a hazard and their children didn’t. Of fathers who would give their world to keep their little ones safe. Of fathers who run away from responsibility. Of fathers who come back from war to see their daughters graduate. Of fathers who hold their dying child’s hand and tells them he’ll meet them there. Of fathers who warn their daughters’ boyfriend, “Hurt her and I’ll hurt you!”
Like I said, I’ve come across different kinds of fathers. But nobody quite like my best friend.
I could start this off saying “he’s a superhero.” But that would just be the child in me. So let me talk about the man that would give up his world to put a smile on his kids’ faces, the man who doesn’t have the ability to say no, the man who has accepted his kids for who they are even though he comes from a place where any other father in that situation would have looked at their child and said “I’d rather throw you out than call you mine.”
He’s the person that every child dreams of having in their lives. Even during the most difficult of times, he tries to give them everything they want. He works hard is an understatement. He makes every other man in this world not worth it. He supports, understands, loves, cares and most importantly, stands by you.
Like all best friends, we quarrel. We have big arguments and stop talking for a few days. But then we snap out of it because, “come on. You can’t be mad at your best friend!!” I tell him everything. My secrets, my dreams, the comments on my blog that make me smile and most of all, boy troubles. He always understands. When I had my first break-up, he was there for me. When I was half-way across the world crying on the phone because I wanted to come home, he stayed on the line and talked me through it. Midnight medical emergencies, ligament tears, home sickness and fights with my sister, he’s been there for me through it all.
I’ve heard many childhood stories of mine with him. But I don’t remember much of it. What I do remember is the person that said “Let her have a life and make her mistakes and learn from them.” I remember the care when I had all four of my wisdom teeth taken out at the same time. I remember the tears of joy I had when he gave me a card to congratulate me for the very first money I ever earned. I remember the silly laughter, the perfect movies, the love for popcorn. I remember Hindi movies with subtitles, Drive-in theatre experiences, our first trip alone and the first time he put me on a flight back home all by myself.
I’ve learnt so much from him. I’ve learnt to stand up for what I believe in, I’ve learnt to not settle for anything less than what I deserve, I’ve learnt what unconditional love and care means and he is the reason I learnt to dream, to chase those dreams and to not stop for anyone.
Like all people in this world, time and life pulled us apart a little by little. But even today, when I have news, when I am hyper for no reason, when I am bored, when I find something interesting on Buzzfeed, I rush to him. And even today, he listens and nods his head even if he doesn’t have the time to be doing so.
To my superhero and my best friend,
Happy Father’s Day, Dad.
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