I love you 3000
I used to think—maybe, just maybe—I was being raised by an emotionally unavailable, inexpressive man. But now, looking back, I see it more clearly. My dad was more present than I ever gave him credit for. In fact, he gave more of himself than he probably should have. He worked in a city four hours away from home. Logically, practically, he had every right to stay there during the week, like I do now. But he didn’t. Instead, he chose to commute—sometimes 8, even 10 hours a day—just so he could be with us, before leaving and after coming back from work. He rode the same bicycle every single day for over 25 years, just to save on petrol. He’d come home at night, and we’d drink Horlicks together from that yellow mug while he sang the “ Apang Gopang Japang ” jingle—just because I loved it so much. I loved apples. And somehow, we never ran out. We weren’t rich—nowhere close—but I never lacked anything. I never had to ask for anything twice. If I wanted something, it magically appeared the sa...