June 2, 2015

My earliest memory of baba is him helping me up a wooden ladder at the age of 3 on 14th August, I wanted to put the Pakistani flag on the roof myself. Ammi was horrified by this brilliant idea but baba backed me, he climbed behind me with one hand on my back for support and to make sure I didn’t fall down. It was an exhilarating experience, I distinctly remember the rush I felt once on top. He helped me wave the flag, as it was too big for me to hold. Both of us tied the flag to a piece of pipe protruding upwards, he showed me how to tie the proper knot that wouldn’t unravel. When it came time to climb down though, I started crying and refused to do it on my own, baba carried me down on his shoulders.

Now that I think about it, the dynamics of our relationship has followed a similar pattern throughout our lives. Me shooting for the stars, baba backing me fully, me messing things up, baba picking up the pieces. He has been and continues to be the best father anyone can ever have or hope for, I have eternally been a lousy son. He deserves better.

Baba starts chemo  tomorrow, I ask Allah to please let me have my baba.