Tribute to my beloved Dad

Dad, I want to dedicate this post, the 100th, to you. Without you I wouldn’t be what I am. However I want to, I’ll never be able to pay back what you did for me and for the rest of us despite precarious means at your hand.

Exactly 30 years today. Exactly the same time as I’m writing this post. It’s still vivid in my mind. That night I came back late, later than usual (forgive me Dad). It was nearly midnight. I turned the door knob in a slow motion lest it’d tweet in the still air. The door wasn’t locked, purposefully so that I could get in without disturbing the family’s sleep.

Those were the days, the good ones; you could leave the door without lock, even open, anytime; nobody would intrude.

I got in, turned on the lock in the same manner, removed my slippers and tiptoed to my room. I know you are easily awakened at the least noise; and you had to get up early, before sunrise, for your usual prayer. But first I peeped into your room, which you shared with mom and the other children.

Mom lay flat in the large bed besides the juniors. In the adjacent small (single) bed, on your back, your right leg straight along the length, your left leg bent and protruding upwards, you were facing the ceiling. You were in a deep sleep. Well, that’s what I thought. I crept in my room and slipped under my cover. I didn’t know you had already left us, for the heavenly abode. Nobody knew at that moment. How could they? Everybody was snoring.

The next morning I was awakened in a jerk.

“Get up … I think your father’s no more … get up…”

Mom was yelling, disconsolately. You didn’t wake up for the Morning Prayer. She knew something was wrong. That was it. When I rushed to your bed, you were still in the same position as I last saw you. Beside your bed, I lay dumb, tears rolling off; you had gone, for ever. I felt the guilt of not having been able to bid you good night.

You were only in your early years of retirement; well deserved after so many days of hard labour. Yes, you had done everything possible for our comfort. You never thought of your own well-being. You were always concerned about others. I learnt it from you: “Care for others, God will care about you.” Your dynamism, multi-disciplinary approach and courage characterized your will to succeed in the decent upbringing of your off springs. You did it, Dad. We have nothing to complain about. Although you were the typical “jack-of-all-trade”, you didn’t want your children to endure the same sacrifice as you did.

I still remember the days when we used to go to the fields. You’d carry me on your bicycle through the stony and muddy roads, in the sun and in the rain. You’d pedal hard to force the headwind movement. You used to sermonize on the way. I do still recall your advice; and I try as far as I can to put into practice your teachings. They are engraved in my mind. For you what mattered most was the spiritual well-being that keeps you in balance.

For somebody with hardly any schooling due to poverty, a self-made man as you used to say, you had indeed a high sense of morals. Your quest for knowledge was insatiable. You had a mission: “learn… to teach others”. You shared everything you knew. I always cherish some of the values you taught me:

– Don’t do to others what you wouldn’t others do to you.
– Be calm, honest, truthful and sincere, always.
– Never let those who come to your door go empty-handed.
– Always respect the elders; don’t call them by their names, say uncle, Sir, Mr, etc.
– Seek education, always. Learn from the learned.
– Know that you are being watched by the Almighty.
– When you are in difficulty turn to the Lord.
– Avoid egotism. Share with others. The more you share the more you get in return.

Of course, there are a lot more; and they are not new. But I learnt them from you first.

Dad, I wish you were here. You left us too early. You were still young at 63. What could we do? The Almighty’s call knows no delay, not even a second. The angel (of death) had done its job in utter silence. You’ll always be remembered as a model, as a guide, as a teacher, as a writer, as a poet, as a priest, an honest, trustworthy and reliable person, although you led a modest life.

May the Almighty bless you! Love you Dad.

Occupational Safety & Health Management Professional,
Personnel Management & Industrial Relations Professional,
Blogger, and Retired Civil Servant.
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12 thoughts on “Tribute to my beloved Dad

  1. Thank’s bro for this lovely article, me too I still remember those moments like it was yesterday, thank’s again for paying tribute to our dad…

  2. 100th post….Wow!…the timing, the story, the tribute! A master piece!

    Not many things shake me up, but this one is too personal…I closed the doors in my office this afternoon and let the tears roll down and remninisce about those days.

    We’ve come a long way. Dad has instilled in us values which has taken us out of despair to a situation of hope. For someone who had no formal education, he made educating his children a top priority….one where no sacrifice was too big…even if it meant not having s somptuous meal or clothing .(remember the hand me downs) or entertainment. Today, I tell my kids that if I were half as good as Dad was, I would be happy. (He has set the bar so high, that getting close to it is a daily challenge). I try to instill in them the same values which we learned as kids…all from a man with an uncanny common sense, a golden heart and an unparalleled love for his family.

    You’ve won my Pulitzer Prize for this beautiful tribute.

    Brotherly love, Abed

  3. I’m proud of my dad! You are the best father/friend I have!
    May God Bless you with a long life!

    I remember I saw some tears in your eyes when you were editting this article on your pc.. I’m sure grandpa would have been very proud of you!

    And about the article itself, you have good writing skills, it’s not easy to convey all those feelings and emotions in an article like this one, but you made it! You are a great writer!
    *Bows and salutes his father*


  4. Alfaking, what a lovely tribute to a wonderful father. And congratulations on your 100th post, which was memorable and stirring.
    All the best to you.

  5. This was a very touching story. It made me sad to read it, but I know that your dad would have been very proud of you. May Allah bless him. He was a very great man, and now i know more about him, even though I never knew him. You wrote a very good article. It was from the heart.

  6. Indeed Zareen; Dada was of a different breed. Just ask your papa to relate a bit of his life.

    Dada had high hopes for his children although he had limited means. He believed in what he did for us. We are what we are thanks to his determination and the values he instilled in us as your papa rightly says.

    Your impression touched my heart.

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