Monday nights are reserved for catching up. Tuesday nights are reserved for late-night chit-chat. Wednesday nights are reserved for workaholics such as ourselves. Thursday nights are reserved for games. Friday nights are reserved for the NBA. Saturday nights are reserved for watching movies. Sunday nights are for going to bed early.
The very man who loved me first, my father. A father-daughter relationship is one of a kind, a special one and one that is emotionally vulnerable. My dad’s the type of guy to hold my hand awkwardly whilst crossing the road, who makes awful jokes and sings old Bollywood songs loudly in the car. He’s the type of guy who’s embarrassed about his age for no absolute reason, and the only guy who puts a smile on my face with stupid jokes.
Thank you for putting up with your angsty, adolescent daughters' tantrums. Thank you for teaching me how to ride a bike when I was six years old. He is the man who picked me up on his shoulders when I was crying about my grades and my broken Barbie dolls. He's the man who taught me the distinction between a boy and a man.
Thank you for calling me beautiful when I thought that I was the most monstrous-looking child in the existence of the world. You work hard every single day for my education and for my happiness, and I can’t help but feel flabbergasted and guilty at the same time because I know that there, in this very world, there is one single person who truly loves me for who I am.
My father.
I hope you realise that I am grateful for everything you have taught me and given me, especially your love. Eventhough, you weren’t there when my mother was giving birth, you were on the telephone, put up on loudspeakers, making sure my mother was okay, making sure I was okay. That is love. A love which is one of a kind.
I love arguing with you about the NBA and Tom Cruise movies, I love fighting with you about who cooks food better and deep down somewhere in my pathetic little heart, I enjoy every single dad joke you have ever said out loud. You have broken all the stereotypical jobs of a father just to be the best one in existence, so thank you, thank you for being yourself.
I have every single failed selfie you have taken on my phone, saved deep down somewhere in my gallery. You’re my best friend, the guy who makes fun of me in a truly hilarious manner and the same guy, who two minutes later, wipes out my tears and helps me with my sob stories. The amount of times you have said “yolo” to me is quite corny but helpful. Perhaps, that is the most helpful advice I have ever gotten in my life.
Father's day is a day for all the good fathers in this world, and I am proud to say my father is far more than a good man. He is the only man who has treated me with the respect I needed to be treated with, the only man who has complimented me whilst I wear dresses, the only man who has shown me his love with nothing but pure compassion and affection.
Thank you for being a father who loves me for me, who loves me because I am myself.
Love,
Your favourite daughter and your only daughter.
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