Those Little Feet...

The sound of the rain woke him up and his feet walked him out to embrace it. His skin glowed with the touch of every raindrop and the smell of the earth made him smile. He had to get out and drench himself silly in every watery descent of the clouds above. Nature was his first love and this was one of his ways to live.

His heart rejoiced at the sight of his daughter. Her laughter was his lullaby. Her presence was his prayer answered. Her dimples were his eye candies. Her hugs and kisses were his peace. He loved his coffee and enjoyed his untimely forty winks on the couch. Simple things made him happy. The child in him was always alive even in times of adversity and strife. He smiled his way into people's hearts and his eyes sought love, friendship and happiness in every aspect of his daily routine. The earth was his playground and he loved his world.

He was a genius with an unmatched memory, an avid reader who doubled up as his journalist/ novelist wife's best critic, a spiritual wanderer who knew where God resided, and a connoisseur of many fields - literature, sculpture, history, geography, mathematics, and astronomy, among others.

His little feet carried him through many a grueling grind, to the most magnificent of ancient architectural masterpieces, to the banks of almost every Indian river, to the depths of the thickest forests, to the homes of his countless friends and finally to the stairs of heaven.

He redefined simplicity. He was always there for anyone who needed him. He ensured he visited everyone he knew in every neighborhood that he passed through. He would do anything to make others happy. And along his adventurous and arduous journey, he unwittingly ensured that there could never be another of his kind. He gave me wings and the will to dream. He is always around and his little feet's number is the best track I'd ever hear.

Take care, Dad. May the Gods be kind on your soul.