One for Dad

I love to read. I mean, who doesn’t? Everybody I know enjoys some kind of textual reading: books, working papers, movies, songs, etc. Today I read something especially soothing, so much so that it reached out to tinkle that ancient chime in the heart of hearts.

Every time I touch Cochin after a break of three months, it is like I take my time to find balance- like a kid who wobbles in its first attempt at walking. This time I decided to take it slow. No haste, no worry. I came home directly and sat in front of our age-old, yet reliable, PC (one of those bad habits you pick up when you are away from home; let the Internet rule the world) and logged in to see what was happening in the other end of my world. After a while of pointless browsing, I decided to look through some old photographs to dust afresh old memories. I found it difficult to understand the storage pattern at first (the wobbly kid again), but once I got it figured it was easy. Things were coming back to me. In one of the disks I found an unfamiliar folder. It sounded interesting and looked inviting. It was named: The log book of Oceans. No one but my own dear sailor-father could have authored this one- I thought. I took the liberty to open it.

The folder contained several documents. One named after each ship he had mastered. I picked one which resonated a very distant chord of remembrance. Named: Log book of Vishwa Bandhan. I remember Mom and I (leaving my dear Brother behind) joining Father in Mangalore at this Ship. Not more than 4 yrs old was I.

I skimmed through the document, hoping in my mind to find what I was looking for. A reference to me. And there it was! I had found it and it made my day. My father has never been an expressive man, except for when he writes. Which is why I have still saved all his letters to me. It speaks a lot more to me about his love for me than any verbal conversation we have ever had. Thank you Dad, for being who you are. Especially for making sure your little girl didn’t get drowned in the midst of your travel tales on the Suez canal and Odessa.

The excerpt from the Log book of Oceans:

The small room that Chief Officer’s cabin is, became a palace with the prattle of little Vinnie. It was like thousand birds singing together in my cabin. Her easily changeable moods, her elation and quick silver tongue, all and all made it appear to be a new child, unknown to me. She has grown up to be a sharp tongued wench at her 4 years.