My admiration for my father increased when I left home to pursue my studies abroad. He has been a pillar of strength to me and has also put with my rebellious attitude. I love my dada and completely adore his eccentric ways. He enjoys the finer things in life and has come up the hard way. His no-nonsense attitude and his obsession about punctuality drive us mad! But that’s my dada… “Don’t do two things at a time, you will never be successful that way”, he admonishes us when we sit in front of the T.V with our dinner plates!

Playing “Tambola” in the weirdest way possible in checked lungi and scotch with hot water is what my dada is all about. My mother tolerates these little “quirks”, while so many of his other habits have him catching hell, which is a lot of times, I am sad to say! She gets irate when my dada comes back home late from “Sad” Club (his favorite hangout!) or when he would not put his clothes for wash every morning or even make his own bed! 

He is quite a personality. He will try out any cuisine from any part of the world, bungee jump, Para sail, and has a thirst for knowledge compared to a 3 year old. He has an uncanny ability to make friends with anyone…anywhere. That’s my dada. In some juvenile way, I think most fathers ought to be like my dada. Well, that’s hero worship for you.

Enter my pap farm!

It would be a wonderful place for people like my father and [equally weird] daughters like his. It would be like a community for dads and daughters. Nobody to tell them to take their clothes down for wash! They can wear what they want and do what they please. Even if it means playing Free Lotto all night sitting in front of the computer! Recreational hour at my farm would be a relaxing game of tambola accompanied with some fine scotch or wine!

It would be non-profit of course. All I would ask of my army of paps and daughters would be to keep the place clean and do a little light exercise of gardening or badminton! (See, my dad has to go every morning, play badminton, meet his buddies-a must for him!)

All in All, I figure if I don’t win a Booker or if my Journalism career does not pan out, this would be a great way to make my mark in this world. I may win a Nobel “pap” prize for my good deeds. Who knows!

Imagine this:
· My brother-in-law could eat all the cauliflower pakodas he wished for and never have to see the front gate of Intel office again!
· My brother could sleep all day, watched Fashion T.V all night and fantasize about Victoria Secret’s lingerie all the time. 
· My darling husband could watch cricket all day, work on his Website all night and eat “Chilly Chicken” for the rest of his life!

Beautiful Isn’t?

- LKS