Happy 96th Papa Ji!!!!
Papa ji,
Matha teknah ji.
Happy 96th birthday! Although you left us on Feb. 10th 1985, your presence is felt daily by all of us. You are our silent hero. You said very little but showed us a lot through your deeds.
Harsimran made Karah Parshad today, just the way Ami Ji taught her. She did not have the opportunity to meet you in person but the aura in our house makes us feel your omnipresence along with Ami ji’s .
Papa ji, the ironic part is that today is August 15, 2011, the supposedly 64th year of Independence Day of India, the day you were born in 1915. August 15, 1947 was no independence for many Sikhs who lived what is Pakistan now but a total massacre. Many were kicked out from their mansions in today’s Pakistan just with the clothes on their backs. Many were dragged and murdered not by the fault of their own. They just happened to be Sikhs. Many were crushed under the wheels of the running trains. Ami ji’s family was kicked out from their house in Multan the same way.
Luckily, she was married to you then and your first daughter, Brijinder bheni was born in Ferozepore on August 7, 1947; just 8 days before the horrors took place. Unfortunately, it was the first Holocaust of the Sikhs. The second one took place in 1984.
So, Papa ji, your birthday is the reminder of bitter and sweet things of life. Bitter because what happened to many innocent people 32 years after your birth. The sweet; what you as our Papa ji gave your children, nothing but unconditional love.
When you were 8 years old and fell off the balcony and hit your head on the asphalt in the street, it must have been heart breaking for Mata ji and Pita ji, your loving parents. Many doctors were called even some Brits who lived in Ferozepore at that time so that your life could be saved. They wanted to operate on you but in order to do that, they wanted to cut your hair which my feisty grandma Mata ji refused. For her, Sikhi of her son was more important than the life of the eldest son. What a great woman she was! After many consultations it was declared by the doctors that you would be fine with one caveat, that you would have a short temper. Little did they know that having a short temper is in the DNA of a Punjabi.
Your temper was never filled with disdain or hatred because you had the gentlest soul of any person I have ever come across. It was like a quick monsoon thunder followed by a beautiful rainbow.
Papa ji, your dedication towards Mata ji when she got bed ridden was not about words but about total faith in Ik Ong Kaar. To ease her pain, you took your monthly trip to Amritsar during every new moon and walked with the likeminded Sikhs, singing Gurbani Shabads all night long, walking on foot from Harmander Sahib to Taran Taaran, a 15 miles journey while visiting Gurdwaras on the way. I remember taking the same trip with you along with my sisters and brothers a couple of times but fell asleep on the way.
You relished this journey every month. The glow on your face was the manifestation of the inner peace you found within and at the same time a silent and wonderful tribute to Mata ji. You covered this travel with gusto for many many years till your knees could not let you do it anymore.
And what did you bring us when you came back from this journey?
Boxes full of wonderful books. Books regarding Gurbani, fiction, non-fiction. You introduced me in my early teens to great Punjabi authours like Nanak Singh, Sohan Singh Seetal , Amrita Preetam and many more. Many of these great Punjabi writers became your personal friends. You made us book worms quite unknowingly because you never forced us to read. You just brought them and we devoured them.
You were the best Dad a son could ever ask for and if I am able to emulate just a tiny little part of yours as a dad with Jaskeerat and Trimaan, I will be the luckiest person in this world.
Happy Birthday, my silent HERO!!
Papa Ji - Dharampal Singh Malik
Papa ji,
Matha teknah ji.
Happy 96th birthday! Although you left us on Feb. 10th 1985, your presence is felt daily by all of us. You are our silent hero. You said very little but showed us a lot through your deeds.
Harsimran made Karah Parshad today, just the way Ami Ji taught her. She did not have the opportunity to meet you in person but the aura in our house makes us feel your omnipresence along with Ami ji’s .
Papa ji, the ironic part is that today is August 15, 2011, the supposedly 64th year of Independence Day of India, the day you were born in 1915. August 15, 1947 was no independence for many Sikhs who lived what is Pakistan now but a total massacre. Many were kicked out from their mansions in today’s Pakistan just with the clothes on their backs. Many were dragged and murdered not by the fault of their own. They just happened to be Sikhs. Many were crushed under the wheels of the running trains. Ami ji’s family was kicked out from their house in Multan the same way.
Luckily, she was married to you then and your first daughter, Brijinder bheni was born in Ferozepore on August 7, 1947; just 8 days before the horrors took place. Unfortunately, it was the first Holocaust of the Sikhs. The second one took place in 1984.
So, Papa ji, your birthday is the reminder of bitter and sweet things of life. Bitter because what happened to many innocent people 32 years after your birth. The sweet; what you as our Papa ji gave your children, nothing but unconditional love.
When you were 8 years old and fell off the balcony and hit your head on the asphalt in the street, it must have been heart breaking for Mata ji and Pita ji, your loving parents. Many doctors were called even some Brits who lived in Ferozepore at that time so that your life could be saved. They wanted to operate on you but in order to do that, they wanted to cut your hair which my feisty grandma Mata ji refused. For her, Sikhi of her son was more important than the life of the eldest son. What a great woman she was! After many consultations it was declared by the doctors that you would be fine with one caveat, that you would have a short temper. Little did they know that having a short temper is in the DNA of a Punjabi.
Your temper was never filled with disdain or hatred because you had the gentlest soul of any person I have ever come across. It was like a quick monsoon thunder followed by a beautiful rainbow.
Papa ji, your dedication towards Mata ji when she got bed ridden was not about words but about total faith in Ik Ong Kaar. To ease her pain, you took your monthly trip to Amritsar during every new moon and walked with the likeminded Sikhs, singing Gurbani Shabads all night long, walking on foot from Harmander Sahib to Taran Taaran, a 15 miles journey while visiting Gurdwaras on the way. I remember taking the same trip with you along with my sisters and brothers a couple of times but fell asleep on the way.
You relished this journey every month. The glow on your face was the manifestation of the inner peace you found within and at the same time a silent and wonderful tribute to Mata ji. You covered this travel with gusto for many many years till your knees could not let you do it anymore.
And what did you bring us when you came back from this journey?
Boxes full of wonderful books. Books regarding Gurbani, fiction, non-fiction. You introduced me in my early teens to great Punjabi authours like Nanak Singh, Sohan Singh Seetal , Amrita Preetam and many more. Many of these great Punjabi writers became your personal friends. You made us book worms quite unknowingly because you never forced us to read. You just brought them and we devoured them.
You were the best Dad a son could ever ask for and if I am able to emulate just a tiny little part of yours as a dad with Jaskeerat and Trimaan, I will be the luckiest person in this world.
Happy Birthday, my silent HERO!!
Papa Ji - Dharampal Singh Malik
