Fathers are precious
By: Mehak Masood
Tags: Relationships, Parenthood, Family Bond, Father And Son, Family

It was past midnight when I drove past the neighborhood park towards home. From quite a distance only I could see a figure clad in white shalwar kameez standing in front of my house’s driveway. Of course, it’s s Abba. Why does he stay up so late for me? I’m not a kid anymore. I’ve grown into a responsible individual and I can surely lock the gate myself without him watching over me. Ah, fathers these days. These were a few by the way thoughts that would pop in my head every time I would come home late and find Abba standing.

Photo by Jude Beck on Unsplash

“Overtime again, yeah?” inquired Abba.

“Yes Abba, you know these companies. 9 to 5 is just a spoken formality. Actual work begins after the clock strikes 5”, I answered back.

“Oh yes, I know. I know you always wonder as to why I always stay up whenever you’re not home early. Beta, it’s not the gate I’m worried about. I know you’re responsible enough to take care of it. It’s for you that I patrol the garden until I hear your car honking. It just makes me feel elated to see you return home after a day of hard work and fatigue. It gives me immense pleasure to see you what a version you have become of yourself. It’s just that I really look forward to this time of the day”, said him.

What he said left me speechless. I felt as if I couldn’t find the words to thank him or express my emotions and feelings for him. Only when I was finally able to gather my strength to speak did my phone start to ring clear and loud in my ears.

I managed to lift my eyelids. They felt unusually heavy. I felt lost for a minute. What just happened? I found myself lying on my bed staring at the roof fan making its slow, measured moves. My lips slowly broke into a big smile but it was just a matter of a few seconds when the realization hit me. It was a dream. Abba came in my dream. He is gone. He is gone forever.

I ushered out into the balcony. The night was cold, silent and pitched dark with the only light illuminating from the moon. Setting my eyes on the moon took me back to one of the chaand raats when my kurta was not stitched in accordance with my measurements. I can still vividly reckon how upset I was and refused to attend Eid Prayers the next morning. Abba’s words “Don’t spoil your mood beta, grab my wallet and buy another kurta for yourself” still echoed in my ears.

Eyes brimming with tears and feeling claustrophobic, I felt a strong urge to see that lively, smiling face once more. It has been more than four years now since God made his final call for Abba, but each and every moment that I lived with him lies crisp in my mind.

Photo by Aliyah Jamous on Unsplash

Abba, I am a married man now with a reasonably well settled life. Just like you, I put my blood and sweat in whatever I do and have been blessed enough to make successful career advancements. Abba, did I ever tell you how much you meant to me? Your advises, constant support, warmth and love meant the world to me. I got so occupied with my education and later on with my career that I never realized that life in this world is temporary.

Now that you are gone, I wish to go back in time and relive those moments with you yet again. How I wish to go down the memory lane and listen to you narrate your childhood stories to me and Aisha. Abba, if only I could go back in time I would quit everything to lean against your shoulders and listen to the tales that you tirelessly narrated; one after the other.

Abba, your upbringing and most importantly your prayers have played a massive role in shaping my values and personality. You brought me up as a strong and confident individual who knows how to put up a brave smile in trying times.

You have and will always remain my confidant and best friend and my eyes will keep searching for you in the driveway.