My Dad by Hanaa Haleem

 My Dad by Hanaa Haleem

Last two weeks of November in 2022 — typically when people begin celebrations for Thanksgiving and enjoy their time off from school and work. Technically, I was away from school, but for a family emergency rather than a typical vacation you may have thought of. Unfortunately, my grandmother was diagnosed with insomnia, serving as a reason for why my mother had previously travelled to India to take care of her, meaning my Daddy and I had the obligation to do so too the following week. Constantly jet lagged, bitten by bugs, and catching sicknesses— I rethought my choice of coming here. 

During occasional downtimes in the Madurai (not my hometown) hospital, my dad would take me around to get sweet Paniyaram (a South Indian crisp dumpling) and tea from local food stalls. When coming into contact with medical students, he encouraged me to network by asking about their current job and their interests in the field. The ungrateful seventh grade version of me obviously took no interest in these conversations, but still did as I was told in order to distract myself from the boredom of the India trip. As I usually travel to India for weddings or family visits over the summer, these odd two weeks felt so slow as I had limited internet access, no immunity to sicknesses, and constant grief over missed friend hangouts while in my hometown, Keelekarai. Little did I know I was in for a surprise — three days in…CHENNAI!; a city where my favorite cousins live, which is the highlight of each India trip. 

Each time we went to a restaurant or visited someone’s house in the evening, I looked out the window with a new sense of fulfillment followed by constant reflections on everything that happened within these two weeks. The entire time, I was counting minutes until we would return back to New Jersey, and was obviously relieved the moment I arrived. Looking back at my attitude, I realize that I did not appreciate the little things around me that now bring me instant joy today. Instead, I should have demonstrated curiosity during the networking sessions with medical students, engage  in meaningful conversations with my grandma whose wisdom I learn from now, and simply be present within moments of downtime without internet, including the small paniyaram stalls and walks to the nearby Annakadai (corner shop) in the blazing heat. It turns out that I took the precious time spent with my dad for granted and found inconveniences within all of the moments, which I now regret as he was always willing to keep me comfortable, safe, and entertained by the things in India which I cannot find anywhere else. To this day, the moments where I stay in my bed with a fever or cold give me flashbacks to this trip. I realize how much I exaggerated regarding discomfort from sicknesses, bug bites, jet lag and heat despite having a Dad who always ensured I was easily cured within the comfort of my Grandmother’s home, and still decided to surprise me with a trip to Chennai despite how  unappreciative and demanding I was the entire time. 

Thankfully, it was never too late to make up for this, even after two years. This summer, I only stayed in India for three weeks due to taking the chemistry summer course, and decided to travel with a mindset ensuring I make the most out of every small moment, regardless of how uncomfortable it feels. Cutting vegetables for sambar while my Grandma prepared the base in the kitchen, folding clothes while asking her funny questions — those touched with deeper sensations. It has been over a month since I was last in India, and I still laugh about our conversations and are reminded of them when doing the same for mom in the kitchen on Saturdays. Along with this, I was excited to help my younger cousin with her homework, and dance with her even when it felt silly. She would occasionally annoy me when I wanted to focus on my work or watch a movie, but I let it slide as I wanted to ensure she enjoys the temporary younger sibling experience, which my older brother provided me with my entire life. 

Moving back to the significance of my dad within this trip, I am proud to say that we spent meaningful moments reconnecting with nature and bonding. At times where I stressed over my academics throughout the nearing approach of school, he always healed me with motorcycle bike rides during hot nights. Holding onto his shoulders while he drove his bike, I felt the breeze overpower the blazing heat, acting as a natural AC while sweating. I learned more about him each time as he showed me some ordinary looking buildings with significance, and recalled childhood memories of buyers appearing in his front door to sell property. Seventh grade me would have easily zoned out when hearing his explanation of old property sales processes, but the new, matured version of myself truly ingrained each of his words into my memory and took interest in these conversations. Nowadays, I CRAVE for days where I get to hop on the motorcycle with him to nearby shops, and buy many snacks and stationary pens for less than $10. American shopping malls and dinner at Chaska (Pakistani restaurant known for their loaded fries) are no longer as appealing to me. Instead, I desire to experience these humid, breezy motorcycle runs with my dad, regardless of whether we go to my cousin's house, talk about his childhood, or buy paniyaram from the street stalls. Moreover, exploring the unknown, nearby places placed emphasis on the vastness of Keelekarai that I have not completely experienced yet, no matter how small I frame the village to be.

Those two weeks in India taught me that moments I once brushed off  like the slow walks to street stalls and humidity felt from inside the corner shops are the ones whose sensations stay. I have learned to be fully present and appreciate the small things within an ordinary moment that make it remarkable as they are temporary experiences that cannot be witnessed elsewhere. What I once used to dread are moments I now refer to as the highlights of the trip. From each word spoken during laundry folding sessions with my grandmother to the tender crispiness of the paniyaram, these moments brought to me by my dad are ones that I will no longer take for granted regardless of the circumstance as he ensures maximum comfort and generosity within each of them.