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In conversation with...

Sunday mornings are, perhaps the best times to engage dad in a conversation. No dad is not really that busy but then, its IPL time in the evenings and conversations at dinner are strictly about us… that me, manu & a lil bit of ma-pa.

I haven’t slept the night ( something I do quite often these days). Had he not seen watering the plants today, something that he does everyday; he would have had made tea by himself, read the news paper, called my aunt, stared out of the window and then, of course woken up ma. This is his usual Sunday morning routine.

He has had two cups of tea already ( I made!) and hasn’t read the newspaper much today. Well, that is thanks to me of course. I can talk incessantly ( Him would vouch for that and so would N). OK. Pa already knows that and it is welcome, my gibberish.

The best part about my pa is (when I have him completely to myself) that I can talk to him about anything. Today morning (7 am) we have been discussing about the new plants want… Actually I had insisted on them in the first place but like he cares for them now. Then we had our first cup of tea ( We don’t brush!) Ummm then Of course I started talking… random stuff. We discussed communism, socialism and capitalism (serious business!). And this one of the few times when he is so not defending my sis!

Then of course, he told me what he would actually like me to do. Blah… pa thinks I am still his lil monty ( I hate it… when I am called this!). He was so fretting over about how am I gonna manage flying off to another city all by meself! ( love him for that!)
Lastly ( as always) I ask him, whether “I am pretty?” ( this is a constant!) Ummm he very diplomatically replies “ Of course, my children always look nice!” Sigh… that will do for now.
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(Image only for representation purpose. Copyright lies with the artist. Not Waving but Drowning Fine Art Print - Trudi Doyle)



He walked, bare feet, on a mass of crushed sea-shells Coarse sand clung onto him, he watched her Afar; sitting motionless on a wind-beaten rock As if waiting for knell
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