Letter to Daddy

A Letter to My Father

Dear Daddy,

It’s Father’s Day, and tomorrow, on Zaistha Ashtami, it is your birthday. There could be no better occasion to gift you something from my heart — a letter from a daughter to her father.

An epitome of love, wisdom, education, and empowerment.

Daddy, even today, years after you left us, my heart swells with pride when people ask, “Beta tum Newlight valo ki ladki? Are you Santosh Ji’s daughter?” Your name continues to be spoken with affection and respect. That is the legacy you have left behind. People remember your humour, your generosity of spirit, your encouragement to pursue education, and your belief that learning should never stop.

You were always curious about our lives — both personal and professional. No matter how busy you were, you wanted to know what we were learning, what we were struggling with, and how we were growing. You celebrated our successes by asking Ma to make ‘suji ka halwa’ — a tradition we continue to this day — and encouraged us through every setback.

Some of my fondest memories are of the handwritten letters you sent while I was away at hostel. They often began with a quote from Shakespeare and always contained wisdom that somehow addressed exactly what I was struggling with at the time. I eagerly waited for those letters, knowing they would bring comfort, guidance, and a reminder that you were always thinking of me.

One of the greatest gifts you gave us was teaching us to respect all faiths and all people. As a child, I sometimes wondered why you insisted on taking us to places of worship belonging to different religions. At the time, I did not fully appreciate the significance of those visits. Today, I understand. Through those quiet journeys, you were teaching us a profound lesson — that humanity is greater than division, that respect transcends religion, and that every person deserves dignity and compassion.

“Naeki kar, kuein mein daal.” Do good, without expectation. It was a lesson you didn’t just teach — you lived it.

I remember one of your favourite sayings. Only now, as I begin to understand the teachings of the Gita more deeply, do I truly appreciate what you meant. Selfless action. I always knew that education was close to your heart. You believed deeply in the power of learning and in lifting others up — whether through your wisdom, your humour, or your kindness.

That is why one moment remains etched in my memory. While lying on a hospital bed, battling your own health challenges, you were teaching English to a nurse. At the same time, Ma, hiding her own tears, was comforting other attendants in the waiting area. Watching you both in that moment filled me with immense pride.

I may never have told you then, but I want to say it now: I am truly proud to be your daughter.

When you were with us in this physical realm, we three sisters always made it a point to share every achievement, every piece of good news, and even our challenges with you. We wanted to make you proud. Especially during the years when your health was declining, we cherished every opportunity to see that smile on your face. Those smiles, your encouraging words, and your blessings remain some of the greatest gifts we have ever received.

Since your passing, Ma has been a pillar of love, positivity, and quiet strength. She continues to honour the traditions and values that were so important to you. Whether it is preparing pann naivedya, performing Kanjak offerings, or keeping family customs alive, she does so with dedication and grace. Through her, your presence continues to guide our family.

Looking back, I realise that your greatest achievement was not what you accomplished for yourself, but what you inspired in others. You taught us that education is empowerment, that kindness is strength, that humour can heal, and that a meaningful life is one spent lifting others up.