My father in law was an introvert of the highest order and so never really spoke much. When I got married, I realised that the man whom I would call Papa in my new family was a very simple man, absolutely content with just a basic lifestyle, no fancy requirements, no flashy ambition and no expectations from anyone!
He wasn't the kind of men who lead a perfect family life, for he was a free soul and did not like to be told what to do and what not. Such people are generally considered misfits in the society and ideally should not be married off but then who understood such things back then.
He was naive and trusted the wrong people who obviously took advantage of him so post his youth, he did not make any friends.
He gelled well with his maternal cousins and enjoyed his time with them during his early years. He did have his bunch of friends also but everyone drifted apart with the passage of time and when I walked into his life as his daughter-in-law, we both gradually became friends.
The chatter-box that I was, I would continue talking to him, leaving the poor man no choice but to reply.
During my early days there, he would usually just smile at me and walk away but coming from a family where my Dad and I would talk endlessly and still do, I wasn't ready to give up that easily, so I would probe about his early life and then the stories would come out rolling!
He would share several anecdotes with me and we would laugh together and then he would say that he was sure he had never shared so much with anyone in the family as I filled the void of a daughter for him which he never even knew there was!
He realised my love for winter goodies and so at the onset of every winter, he would buy all the varieties of chikkis available in the market, keep them on the table in my room and quietly leave. Unlike others, he never wanted any credit or thanks!
It has been 8 winters since he bought my last stock of chikki. 7, since he left this world and one when he was bed-ridden and couldn't leave home to buy me my goodies.
This time of the year, when chikkis flock the stands in the markets, I'm reminded of him. Of course, I get my own stock but there's hardly any fun in that! The joy of being pampered is missing!
Today, I was remembering him and so I thought of making some Moongphali gur chikki in the kitchen. Every minute of the cooking process, I kept thinking about the beautiful memories of those years and once I was done, I looked at the plate and couldn't help but wish that I could somehow share some with him. Alas! There are no deliveries done up in the heavens!!!
I still hope that the aroma of the chikki and the love from my heart has wafted and made its way up to you in the skies Pa-in-law. You are dearly missed. Lots of love 💕
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