A Simple Smile

It has been exactly a month since I went on a family trip to Goa. BJ Medical College ’64 Batch Alumni Meet organized from Sept 26 to Sep 28 at Kolwa Beach Goa, my dad’s medical college alumni meet it was. I had questioned myself a hundred times, why am I joining in? People would drink like they have never tasted alcohol before, because its cheap and its free actually – something that certainly puts me off-, dad would be too busy catching up with his friends and that is exactly why he is supposed to be a part of that meet, my sis joining the bandwagon with her hubby and kids would as always be engaged with her family, and mom ever reticent and wanting sis to take a break and de-stress would be playing with the kids or taking care of them. So where did I fit in? Nevertheless, since everyone home coaxed me to join, I did, one because I did not want to hear the oft repeated comment of not joining in for any family occasions and second because I was just too fed up of the mundane monotonous and extra stressful routine in Bombay. So off I went trying to put up my most cheerful front and mingle in as well as possible, though I would have loved to curl up on the top berth of the 3rd AC coach with my book, but I decided to be someone the family could associate with, at least for once in life J

On reaching Goa, my patience started to give in, the hotel guys refused to put an extra mattress in the room which we needed, refused to provide mineral water because we had reached considerably late and all hotel staff had left for the day. So I already blew the roof top making hell and heaven one until I was given exactly what I asked for. Blame it on Bombay; we are just too used to ask for it until it is given and to get what we pay for. When we reached the resort garden everyone was showcasing talent by singing, cracking jokes and reading poetry. With due respect to each one’s creativity, my stomach growled for food and I was more than thankful for the scraps that were our share and reward for reaching late. After the fuel was pumped in I looked around and all my apprehensions proved right when I saw no one in my age group around, mom busy with the kids, sis and bro-in-law enjoying the rare get-away, dad too lost with his group of friends, and me sitting all alone in the corner. Last resort for the scoundrel, I picked my phone and began my cribbing session, and cursed myself a million times for joining in. It was plain, as on most occasions, I did not fit in.

Day 2 was more interesting as we went sight seeing and saw old architecture, museums, churches and beaches of Goa. I was enthralled by the beauty and sanctity of it all. Writing about it will simply mean saying all that has already been said. I enjoyed listening to the history of who and what and capturing as much as possible on the lens. After the excursion for the day ended an evening was planned on the cruise. Music and dancing, finally I was on home ground. All it took was a few beats to get my feet tapping, but to my dismay no one from the group wanted to dance. One after the other the DJ played songs hoping to entice the crowd into making a move but all they did was smile at each other some what forcibly and wait for some action. My initial thoughts were, what a bore, how can people decidedly not enjoy. Branding them to be people not only of a different age group and generation, I branded them as people of a different era all together and muttered my favorite, I care a damn, and pop I was on the dance floor. It took only a few seconds to forget that I was the only one in action, dancing to the disco beats, folk tunes, as well as remix. What I missed was the reaction, and did not realize that the people whom I had just branded as ‘I don’t know you’, were clicking pictures, capturing videos, and applauding the loudest. In an hour, everyone knew me as the girl who brought life to the evening, more than whose daughter I was. After which, like they say, there was no looking back. All the medical geniuses came and spoke to me, and I came to know more about my dad’s friends and what they do currently, more than he does, and I can bet on that. Wow, I always knew what dance means to me, but did not know it could make such a difference. By the time it was time to leave the next day, I was saying good-bye to aunties and uncles and noting email id and contact details. OK all is well that ends well, and I thought the Goa experience ended, until a couple of days back, the organizer of the alumni meet, true to his word, sent us the family picture of the entire batch. It proved to be a harbinger of memories, but not just that, it made me go beyond thoughts and take some action too!
I created a gmail id for my dad, who is as alien to the internet as I am to customs and rituals. I wrote an email, and yes I write really long emails, typed the email id’s of all the docs on the list, and sent it out. While it took some minutes to explain to dad, how the whole thing works and how the email would have already reached his friends, and that he should expect a reply, a reply already popped in. It was from a friend in UK who had not been able to make it to the reunion. I made dad read the email. While I was busy raising my eyebrows at the incorrect sentence construction and spelling mistakes in the email, my dads smile changed to laughter and he started relating all about this doc who had written in. By evening there were several replies that came in and each time dad smiled and told me an incident about the person who had written. By the end of the day, it felt like being a part of the BJ 64 batch!!!!!! Going to Goa had not made me as happy as this simple smile on dad’s face did. He was plain happy. Though some emails claimed that it was surprising that Dr Handa would ever bother to write an email sending Diwali Greetings, cos Dr Handa was the perpetual back bencher interested in sports alone and in pestering people, someone not remotely connected with social pleasantries, yet each one thanked and acknowledged that he had started a chain and the others would follow. These simple emails gave me an insight into the person my father is. We all know him to be a fun loving, ever cheerful person, who loves to make slight of everyone and everything, who enjoys mimicking and singing, who loves to be tagged as the most mischievous brat , and who can act like a 4 year old with a 4 year old, yet, a one liner from his friends can make his eyes moist. Calm and stoic on the outward but emotional to the core, not a person who you would find beside you each moment, but when the moment doth come, one person who will certainly stand beside you, come what may. A doctor who does not run his OPD 24/7, but an ethical practitioner who refuses cut practice. And above all my dad, my core strength, my unshaken belief, my innocence, and the truth of my life, I will not claim all that I am today is because of you, as I know I am not really all what you would have expected me to be. I bow down to you in reverence Daddy and yes I love you, these are not oft repeated words in our family, but in spite of what it may seem, I really do.