Dedicated to all the Dads in the world

I saw this classic “Evelyn” yesterday. It was a heart whelming movie where these 3 kids (who have been abandoned by their mother) are forcibly sent to asylum since their father is domestically and financially incapable of raising them. And the story revolves around, how the father rebuilds his financial position and fights against law to regain possession of his kids.

I missed my dad throughout the movie. It’s been so long that I haven’t seen him. This December, he, along with mama and my sis, were supposed to visit me. I had everything planned. Courtesy my dads’ occupation (Army), we have been taught to plan everything in advance and in timely manner. So, I was prepared with a list of activities we were supposed to do together. Each activity had a time allotted to it and it was categorized geographically (And u are wondering what makes me a typical Army kid?). While I was gearing up and buying presents for everybody, my dad called up to say that he won’t be able to make it. He was taking over the post of BGS (Brig General of Staff College) on 20th and couldn’t be so irresponsible to take an off on 23rd.

So then, only my mom and sister came. That was fun too. All 3 ladies went crazy shopping (by 3 ladies I mean my sister, we were merely her helpers), no time limit, no hurrying up, no shouting “You girls are very slow when it comes to shopping. I’ll stay in the car while you guys do your business”. We went to Essel world, and those late night dinners, long walks (from one end of the market to the other). My dad wouldn’t have had the patience to go through all this. He would have just said, “I wish I had a son to give me company”. But I missed him a lot.

He is a sweetheart. We have a lot of fun together… hunting for chocolates (that mom has hidden), blaming it on others when mom finds empty boxes when guests have come over, “I don’t even know what a chocolate tastes like”… practicing Salsa so that we can dance and show off in front of others at army parties, visiting ocean park and competing who slides down fastest, cheating while playing cards, singing away to glory during our long drives, evening walks, badminton, and it’s the best when we all gang against him and tickle him. One should hear him laugh like a small kid. And also when he calls me up to complain against mom, “Your mom doesn’t let me watch match. I should buy another TV now.” As a kid (2 year old), I was irritating him when he had slapped me, I love demanding for things as a compensation for that, and he wouldn’t refuse. One should see his youth pictures; he would just dress up to get a picture clicked in all the possible hair styles and poses and from different angles. With those bell bottoms, big glasses, curly hair, lean physique, and a cigarette in his hand, he surely must have been a heart throb (He still is). It doesn’t end there, he would insist on clicking pictures of Dadima posing like Hema Malini and Sharmila Tegore.

My dad gives a complex to most of my friends. He is very well built (thanks to his regular gym and games), jet black hair (I am sure he doesn’t color them), his fair complexion (thanks to his mom), and those looks (thanks to his dad). Had he not been in the army, he would have been giving competition to Mr Khan (Guess which of the Khans…).

If you ever see a person standing in a crowd, talking about how proud he is about his daughters and how his daughters are perfect, (even if they are complete strangers) so loud that people within a radius of 1000mts can hear him, that will be my dad. (Thanks to his high pitch, we always knew when he is gonna come home from games so that we can switch off the TV and pretend to study).

Dance pe Chance

Today my next session of Shiamak begins. Tuesdays and Thursday are the 2 days I enjoy the most. Not only because we get our reimbursements on that day but also because I get to do what I am most passionate about- Dance.

I have been dancing since I was just 3 years old. I started off dancing to the tune of my mother, and by 10 when I got beyond her control…my father took over and gave me the tune to dance to. Around 15, I was dancing to the tune of my teachers at school… and so on. And now I dance to the tune of Shiamak Davar. I am glad, I have been able to preserve a few things that I have cherished as a kid (including my old torn blue jeans), one being: my passion for dance.

I don’t want to sound too self obsessed, and I swear I didn’t make this up. Once a girl actually came upto me and said “Ma’am you are the goddess of dance”. I wanted to go back in the past and record her sentence, make a small tape or something out of it, which I can hang around my neck all the time. And also put up the pictures of all the prizes I have bagged with the comments of each and every jury member. (And yet I don’t have an ego ;-)

The problem with me is that I always want to be in the front row, seen by the audience and applauded. In all my group performances, I have always been placed in the stage center (Mind you- I am not the one who decides positions). And yet, every time I begin a new session with new instructors and new faces around, I fear if I’ll get center position this time? Its like a nightmare “Will the instructor be able to spot me amongst all those pretty faces?” Two days before starting a new session, I start to get Goosebumps. I also dreamt once that I was performing in filmfare, with Shahid Kapoor, but was placed in the 4^th row. I started to sweat and immediately woke up. It was the worst nightmare ever. (For those who do not dance, will never know how does it feel like not to be noticed while dancing, especially after your dad has told everybody that “My daughter is better than all the Dancing Divas”).

I am in the same turmoil right now. My 1^st class of new session, new instructor, new students, will the instructor be able to recognize my talent and give me the position I own? Well, one thing that is commendable about Shaimak is, they don’t place you according to your looks. (else I would be somewhere behind the side screens)

Lets see what happens: fingers crossed

Gifts: the real reason

Everybody loves gifts (even better: to be on the receiving end). As a kid, the only reason why I would await my birthday was: gifts (apart from the cake). Nothing has changed in all these years. I still celebrate my b’day for the same cause. Only difference being, expenses of a party/treat has to be borne by one self.

Everytime, a relative would come over they would come with lots of goodies for everybody. Worse is, when they call you a month before to check what you want. I do have a list of gift articles I want, but I also want to show some modesty by not demanding anything. I can send a list across to my sister or my parents but what do I do when friends ask?

My friend called me up a month before my b’day to ask what I want as a b’day present.

My parents have always taught me to refuse at least three times before accepting anything. So, I quickly said: “Nothing for me please. Nothing for me please. Nothing for me please,” and waited for him to respond.

He spoke next: “No Deepali, I want to gift you something. Thought I should check with you and buy you something you need.”

I had only three seconds to respond. The character of a person is decided in these three seconds. I had a few options - refusing his gift and telling him that I would be excited if he just came for a movie with me and be my guest, was the best option. The worst option was to list out the things I wanted from him.

With the fear that he might give in any moment and say, “OK then, no gift for you this time”, I replied: “I really think you should not take all the trouble.”

“It is no trouble at all. In an hour’s time I am going out for shopping and I could get you whatever you want.” He said.

My mind went racing. I had bought gifts for so many people. Before I walk into a store, I have always asked myself a few questions –

• Do I really need to gift this guy?
• Will this guy ever gift me back?
• Is there a possibility that I am overdoing it - will he/she be happy with a Rs 200/- gift?

My mind came back to the present. I had to quickly come up with a gift item…else I might be gifted with a deo, an audio CD of old classics or even worse some junk jewellery. The problem with suggesting a gift was …I didn’t know his budget.

Pausing for a while, I said: “I am fine with anything as long as it is an Armani dress, blue in color and I would prefer it to be knee length.”

I finally said what was on my mind, “Oops! I almost forgot. Get me a small size”

My b’day finally came and I got my dress. The real problem will come, when his b’day arrives.