Father’s Day

A moving tribute to dear father…


My dad would have turned 105 this year if he were alive! He died when he was 96. “Twenty-seven, eleven, nineteen hundred and nine.” That is how he would state his date of birth because in India, his birthplace, the date would be stated first, next the month and lastly the year. Though he lived in the United States for twenty-one years after my mother’s passing away, he never changed his ways of doing or saying things.

According to my father, lifewas better in the jolly old British Raj daysin the Bombay thathe grew upin from a young boy into manhood. He was born in Badnera,Maharashtra State. We constantly heard of thedays when allgoodfood was freely available like Kraft English Cheese, canned sardines, Peak Freen Biscuits, Bovril (Marmite), British jams etc.

My father’s generation never reconciled to the independence India achieved from the British and he often made…

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