My Baabul. Where do I begin with him? I call him Drona, Dad, Daddy, Daddyo, Bapu and he, Rosh or Bak-Baaki. My father is the only man in the world who will listen to my nonstop banter with utmost interest and actually discuss the randomness that is me. I've always been the most talkative one amongst my siblings and as a child, I would wait for my Baabul to come home from work only to tell him my entire days worth of nonsense. He knew that if I didn't tell him, I wouldn't be able to stomach my food and would listen patiently after a crazy day at work. I've inherited a rather strange and perhaps even lame sense of humor from my Baabul but no regrets; he gets my jokes, and vice versa. We also share a strange hobby: random movies. No one in the world may watch and enjoy a movie, but my Baabul and I will enjoy it like it was a masterpiece. We kick butt in Antarkshari, watch cricket online together and will debate every political issue on the planet. I can't do any of this with anyone else in the world but my Baabul.

As the lyrics of the title song go, "Kaheta Hai Baabul, O Meri Bitiyan, Tu To Hai Mere, Jigar Ki Chitthiya..." I know my Baabul feels the same way... and I'll always remain my Baabul's girl.
And Dad, I have decided to add another name to the list, Baabul it is. I know I tell you this everyday, but I love you heaps and loads Baabul.
3 comments:
your article has given proper due to not only your Dad but to all us fathers.No doubt it is fathers who cry most when their daughters get married...........God Bless You Roshni... Uncle Ram
nice post
Beautiful words engraved with an open heart. Nice! I wish I had a Baabul, but life's not the same for all. May God Bless You Roshni!
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