Father's Day 2011

Another Father's Day without you, DaddyDearest. They say these things get easier with every passing year. Well, 'they' lied. And I'd like to wash 'their' mouths out with soap and vinegar and chilli powder.

Been missing you something awful these past few weeks. You know I'm doing a play, right? The original play is called "My Mother Said I Never Should", by Charlotte Keatley and it's been adapted into a bilingual play "Maa Bolechhe Korish Naa" by this wonderfully talented girl, Shuktara Lal, who also directs it. It's a four-women play about four generations of mothers and daughters -- their secrets, lies, broken hearts, unsaid thoughts and feelings. Though the men are never shown, their presence very much looms large throughout the play. After all, you can have events happening in mothers and daughter's lives if there aren't any fathers and husbands around, right?

We had such intense workshops before the play, where we delved into our own lives, discussed our pasts and dreams, had emotional breakdowns (breakthroughs?) and drew inspiration from the women, circumstances and events in our own lives.

The relationship my character, Anuradha, shares with her mother, Roma, is so much like the one MaaJanoni and I share. Roma's personality is uncannily close to MaaJanoni's and I feel the same bitterness, hurts and brokenness as my character. It also made me think about and miss you terribly...

This was a scarily accurate and intense play. Rehearsals would always leave us emotionally drained...

And then we came close to opening night -- June 18th, 2011. And I lost it. I couldn't believe you wouldn't be there in the audience and I sobbed.

Were you watching, DaddyDearest? Were you there?

The second show was on the 19th; Father's Day. I woke up with an ache in my heart, but I channelised my sorrows and instead drowned them in domesticity. I sat all four kids down and they made cards for the MIM and BIL-ly Boy. Soon, it was time for me to leave for the show.

Another good show. Did you see?

As we packed up and got ready to leave, 'Roma' gave me a string of jasmine to take home. Without even thinking about it, almost as a reflex action, I put them on your photograph.

It was only yesterday, after the Bro called and we talked about how much we miss you (he couldn't go into work because he was so miserable) that I realised the significance of my actions.

Happy Father's Day, Baba. Still missing you.

Like. You'll. Never. Believe.