Remembering

Remembering Dada:
I'm writing this today, 2 years after dada died. I was reading a blog of someone who lost her father as well, only she mourns it. I don't think I've ever mourned dada. I blocked his death. I don't know what will come out here. So much happened so quickly, and I was in no frame of mind to mourn. Today as I read that blog I wonder what happened. Culla reminds me of misszoot. She mourns dada. She thinks of him everyday, she still cries. I haven't. I cried once. Once after mama and culla left for India. But not since then, and then too I stopped. I'm not sure why I haven't cried. I think of dada too. But I don't dwell. I change my mind to a different topic, somthing that requires my focus so I won't have to remember. Today I will remember my dada.
I remember wanting to hold you hand while we walked to amboli church, and you holding it but commenting.
I remember you tickling our feet to wake us up to go to church because it was the end of the year, really dada that was the most annoying thing.
I remember you being so proud of us at christmas and all of us wanting to walk with you because you looked so handsome in your ray ban glasses.
I remember you shouting at me and me hiding under the table because of geometry. I swear I spelt center as center not centre of a circle.
I remember you buying us the red, green and cream bags, and some kind of animal chocolates. I was so excited to take the new bag to school.
I remember my black ruler.
I remember being mad at you one year in Goa, because you forgot to wish me on my birthday. I waited all day. You were busy putting cement on the bricks and throwing water on it.
I remember my hated blue and purple cakes.
I remember how you told me to do whatever I needed to do in London, and that you loved me. Thankyou for that, you will never know how much I needed to hear those words when I called you.
I remember you being so angry with culla at the ssc boards and all the followed.
I remember you offering sheldon fonseca a drink when we were in college and me thinking just how cool you were.
I remember your face when you asked for something sweet with a slight wink.
I remember your face when you asked for cigarettes.
I remember how you would as me to spend time with Rachael when I came home from work, but then proceed to hold her and rock her ...
I remember your look when you saw all the "nice small houses".
I remember the beach in goa, when you dragged us into the water.
I remember you forcing me to learn how to drink wine...lol..
I remember you teaching us how to say please pass the gravy instead of give me the curry.
I remember you eating with a fork, and always wearing your slippers.
I remember your doshays.
I remember you and cajy uncle having bath on the verandah in goa.
I remember you sitting on the rocking chairs in the verandah in goa.
I remember going to goa with you in october, just you and me. I had fun. You let me do what I wanted, and I had fun that year. I even remember you staying home and making steamed sardines while I went out.
I don't remember but I heard enough times how I fell asleep walking and you were stopped by a stranger to pick me up.
I still remember your stories, about how you and a friend pretended to be blind to get on the train without ticket to get home from the boarding school in borivali.
I remember you telling us you had to grind masala before you went to school.
I remember how you died. And then I stop remembering because I don't want to relive it. I love you dada.