Not daddy’s little girl.

When I was a little kid, I was very possessive of Pappy. I would fight to get his attention ALL THE TIME. Since my brother was a slightly sober child, he spoke far far less than what I would, he would get a lot of attention.

So, there was this constant fight to take all the attention I could gather in what ever time we got to spend with Pappy. That’s also because ever since I can remember, or even before that, Pappy was transferred to Vizag.

Today, Vizag is less than an hour away, but I’m talking about the ’90s. It was as good as going abroad, to a far, far, country.

Now, I’m not the kind that writes about/wishes people on different days (until it’s their birthday and the likes)  this year too, I won’t be wishing Pappy a happy father’s day.

Getting back to the point. I was the typical daddy’s little princess. I hung on each and every word of his. I say this in the past tense because, our relationship has changed and evolved over the years. I’m not a little girl anymore and I’m definitely not a princess.

As a teenager, I never, ever, had the typical teen problems. I was a boring child who would go to school/college and come back home. My needs were simple, an occasional new dress would be enough to make me happy.
But as I grew older, somewhere “daddy’s little princess” (ugh. I despise that term) got lost. So the little kid who worshipped her father was soon replaced by this crazy, angry, 20 something who had the talent to make anything into an argument. My rebellious teenage phase got delayed by a few damn years. 

As I sit here and type this, Pappy is in Madras, away on work. It again reminds me of all the times, the many sports days, that have gone by, that Pappy couldn’t attend.

I used to be overcome with this sad, sad, feeling when I would see my friends walk with their father on sports day. Slowly, it became a normal thing. But, the times Pappy did make it to my sports days it became one of the best. Pappy was the one who also let me take my first sip of beer from his glass, despite ma’s screams.

I’m not a little kid anymore and perhaps now, I can see things through a better perspective. Pappy had to stay away from home because that was work. Work let me buy a new pair of shoes every time I wanted to. All I would need to do is ask.

I know you’re not perfect Pappy, you’re not even close to being perfect and that’s fine, I guess. Then again, maybe it isn’t.

Every time we fight (which is quite often) I might want to box you and you drive me crazy with your irrational fights. But, I will admit, the house seems boring every time you go out of station.

I have a lot more understanding and  learning to do. And we both have a long way to go before we learn or at least try to forgive each other for our shortcomings.

It’s relatively late now. The day is about to end Pappy, so why don’t you just go ahead and have a…
Happy…. Sunday?


This was us, during our summer vacation in Vizag at Pappy's 'bachelor pad'.

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