The writer and her beloved father. Photo: Chitra Sakrabani
My earliest memories of Dad are of sitting on his lap while listening to his stories during his lunch break.
Dad was the postmaster then and could come home for lunch every afternoon.
He had a most vivid imagination and could make stories come alive. When he related the story of The Hare And The Tortoise and I asked him how far the rabbit ran before stopping, he’d say “from here to the police station”, which was near our house. He was an extremely indulgent father but he knew exactly when to draw the line.
When I rebelled over certain issues during my teenage years, he’d stop me with a simple “if you respect me, then you won’t do it”. That’s it. If he said "no", then it was a no.
He never promised us anything that he could not give us but we were never short on treats. He gave us everything he could afford – and an unlimited supply of love.
Dad was an avid reader. My sister and I got our love for books from him. I would tag along with him whenever he went to the secondhand bookstores along Macalister Road in Penang. He was my dictionary. Whenever I did not understand a word, I would turn to him and he would explain it because his command of English was excellent.
Sundays were really special. He’d take me for a walk to the local shop and buy me cake which was covered in nuts and had a swirl of cream with a cherry on top.
He was extremely interested in electrical work. I remember him making a small radio for my sister from scratch which actually worked.
Dad believed in embracing change and in continually updating oneself. He registered himself for computer lessons so that he would be prepared when the Postal Department computerised their system.
Later on, he was able to use accounting software to update my firm’s accounting records.
He encouraged us to ask questions so that we could learn. This is the answer I give anyone who asks me why I ask so many questions.
Although Dad encouraged us in everything we did, he was still a father and worried about our safety. When I attended evening classes after work, he would wait for me to finish class and then take the bus home with me so that I did not have to travel alone at night.
He also used to pick my sister up after work, which sometimes finished way past midnight, so that she would not have to drive home alone late at night.
Dad was a straightforward man who never compromised on his principles. Everyone who knew him always said the same thing about him: A nice, well-mannered and well spoken gentleman.
Yet he always spoke his mind and never hesitated in calling a spade as a spade.
He had a great sense of humour and was extremely witty.
My sister and I could talk to him about any issue.
His life after retirement revolved around Mum and us, his two girls. He kept himself active by updating himself on current issues through the Internet and would meet up with his friends.
As he grew older, he used to complain that my sister and I were overly protective of him although I think secretly he enjoyed the fuss.
His death came suddenly, without warning.
He was under the weather for a couple of days and then collapsed at home. My last hug of him while he was still alive was when I kissed him after dressing him, just before the ambulance came to take him to the hospital.
None of us were allowed to visit him at the hospital because it was the peak of the Covid-19 pandemic at that time.
When the hospital called with the bad news, my mind went completely blank for a moment. He was the one I had turned to for advice all the time, but this time I was on my own.
Disbelief came first and then anger, for leaving me without a goodbye.
Aug 28, 2021, will remain as the darkest day of my life. The day I lost my dad, Sakrabani s/o Sakrabani Balakrishnan. He was almost 77 years old but I was not prepared for it.
Dad was a handsome man and he was every inch that person when we gave him his final send-off. Everyone tells me that it was a good thing that he went off so quickly without suffering. I suppose I should be glad about that.
It has been nine months since he passed on and not a day passes without us missing him. He was proud of our achievements, especially my sister’s doctorate and happy that he had instilled his good values in us.
He was a loving husband and dad, and a pillar of strength to Mum and us.
Although you are not around, you were the best and will always remain the best for us. Happy Father’s Day, Didaybe. We love you.
