

My Father

The world's greatest tribute to fathers

A collection of original stories, essays, and poems from around the world

Written by sons and daughters in honour of their fathers

Compiled and Edited by

Rajeev Mathew Thomas

Together with the support from

My Father Initiative Team members

Ammar Al-Qamash, Grace John, Heba Sajid Amin, Safa'a Al-Aamri, & Sonia Philip.

This book is currently listed and featured in the Limca Book of Records

the Asian equivalent of the Guinness Book of World Records.

Thanks to everyone who wrote in this book to make it happen.

Thank You Fathers

For all your inspiration that led to the creation of this book

and all the true stories therein.

Dedicated

With love to all Fathers.

MY FATHER

E-Book Version

First Published as Hard Copy edition in USA in 2011

ISBN No: 978-1463516956

Available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Copyright © All rights reserved – www.my-father.net 2011

By: Rajeev Mathew Thomas, Doha-Qatar.

The buyer of this e-book version of MY FATHER is hereby granted the right to freely distribute copies of this book to others as long as you acknowledge source of the contents of this book, its authors, and publishers, and keep the contents of the book intact in its original form. In other words, you may not extract and distribute a particular story of this book or use any part of this book for commercial gain. The book must be lent. Or forwarded in its entirety, and keeping intact all pages of this book including this copyright page and cover page This copyright restriction is applicable upon any future copyholders of this e-book as well.

This book is an effort to recognize and thank all our fathers for their role in our lives. Please do not insult them by violating this copyright instruction.

Thank you for your support.

The author Rajeev Mathew Thomas and www.my-father.net have been granted exclusive rights by all the co-authors of this book project to use their stories in whatever manner appropriate in the publication of this book, and these rights are transferred automatically to the books publishers based on terms of publication agreements with them.

Price for e-book version: USD 2.99

Introduction

Earlier this year I was involved in a worldwide project to produce an anthology about Mothers written by sons and daughters from around the world. The book was released closer to Mother's Day. Soon after, I was flooded with mails and calls from admirers, asking for a similar project to honour Fathers across the world. And why not? While we all accept that mothers have a great role to play in the lives of their children, fathers play their significant parts as well. It is only a fitting tribute to fathers if only a similar book be published with stories coming in from people in many corners of the world.

This led to the project fondly christened 'The My Father Initiative' which saw various activities including creative writing contests, photography contests, debates, among others; all aimed at enkindling the special place that a father holds in the heart of each person. A dedicated website was set up and this made it possible to leverage technology to overcome physical distance, and people from around the world sent us their stories and poems honouring their fathers.

This book is a collection of 102 selected entries. No story is more distinguished than the other because, they all come directly from the hearts of theirs authors. This book will be made available across bookstores all over the world and would echo the love, affection, and gratitude of all our co-authors, and billions of people who hold these emotions in their hearts, but failed to put it on paper.

A few lines sent in by one of our contributors say it all.

If the history of all the fathers, who have loved and been loved

By their sons and daughters, could be written,

Each history of a father, Would be a unique LOVE STORY.

All proceeds from sale of this book will be donated to charity as it's not my intention or any of my team's who participated on the My Father Initiative to make money out of this book, but to contribute in our own ways to say 'Thank You' to all our fathers out there, some of whom may have already left this world for their heavenly abode.

I would like to take a moment to thank each and every one of my team on the My Father initiative who have patiently spent their time and efforts that they volunteered to this project. A special word of thanks goes to those involved in the proofreading of this book. Our profound thanks go to Bloomsbury Qatar Foundation Publications who helped in conducting the creative writing workshop, and to the Qatar Debate as well as to the Pearl Qatar for their support for the debate. But most of all, big Thank You to all those who have sent us their stories, poems, essays and photographs; and participated with us in various ways to make this happen.

Many of us look up to our fathers and role model part of our life and behaviour according to what we see and experience. However I have seen my father whom I tend to emulate in many ways when being a father to my own sons, says how much he missed his father throughout his life. His father died when my Dad was still a toddler. However he went on to become one of the world's greatest Dads, a process that must have taken a lot of adaptation and learning on the go as he had no one else weighing good enough to learn from or compare with. This book is also my humble tribute to my father. His hardships and sufferings in childhood, and his influence on me through my life are no different from those expressed in the many stories herein. I could write a whole book about him – not just a story. But through this book, and by having this book foreworded by him, I accomplish my sincere desire to honour him for all he has done. I love you Dad.

In today's world where people are fighting a battle within to catch up with the scores of things they are involved in, and a world where relationships and sentiments and love and affection seems to have taken a back seat when compared to other priorities, this book is a humble dedication to those unsung heroes in our lives – our fathers, who have done their might amidst various adversities to give the best they could to us.

In spite of the geographical diversities and the age differences in the stories and poems in this book, one central theme stands out – the love for their fathers. I was particularly touched by a set of stories that was sent to us from The Learning Center, a school for children with special needs and learning difficulties in Qatar. To express their affection and love may itself be a challenge to them, but to put it on paper and to send it to a collection like this book is a great appreciable effort. We have also in here a collection of stories from the Gaza strip where generations of youngsters have lived through years of war and unrest and oppression. They have seen their fathers being mercilessly shot or beheaded in front of them. These stories from Gaza further reflect the sacrificial role that many fathers play. I thank the Al Fakhoora Program team for their support in bringing us these stories.

Incidentally, in this book there are stories those will make you laugh and some touching the hardest part of your hearts. In all, I am extremely satisfied to be able to introduce this book to the readers, because this is the smallest and humblest tribute I can pay to all great fathers across the world, and through it, my tribute to my father and yours too. I thank once again each person who was with me and supported me in this endeavour. May God Bless You All.

Rajeev Mathew Thomas
Foreword

Fathers retain a very unique and prominent status in a family setup, as able male member, a conventionally accepted and practiced system. A Father, as benefactor in any family, enjoys the respect and love of the entire people under his care and protection even as the status of the mother factually is considered much more adorable and elevated from the point of view of sacrifices, affection and whole-hearted and relentless support the family usually derives from her in most tender ways. By and large it is assumed that the father is the figure of authority in the smallest social circle; that is an integrated family, as well as the chief bread winner, the centre pillar, the councillor, the protector and the mediator. For example, in cases of disputes in a family, which usually occurs for simple or complex reasons, it is the father who usually brings out an acceptable solution to all when all other means fail, at times under the thump of authority! Family traditions and cultures are better administered and relayed to children by fathers, more than mothers themselves. A father's incessant striving tasks suddenly appear in case the family is passing through a difficult situation in order to safeguard the family from the existing turmoil and carry forward in life forcefully.

The father-child relationship is of great significance for an individual with regard to his or her upbringing on the right path, as fathers are naturally supportive, protective, responsible, caring and guiding even during times of crisis for their children who teach them right and wrong as well as lead them towards most desirable directions for the right kind of personality development at all stages of their growth like a great Event Manager. The father is child's best friend and teacher. A father always acts as a beacon of light in the darkest moments of life in a well-knitted family. By just holding the finger of one's father, not only is a by-walking child completely reassured of the protection he or she may require at that stage, but also of such irrevocable trust that continues for a long time and helps the child's guidance at every stage of needs and accomplishments. A third-eye of the father will always be on surveillance over his children.

It is not necessary for a child to ask the father something of his or her choice like a toy or a toffee, a simple gesture is all that is enough for the father to quickly read and realize the mind of his child whom he will satisfy at the earliest possible opportunity he could afford.

I need not illustrate further on the importance of the father as most of the stories told in this book narrate unique and memorable incidents and situations, sons and daughters penned about their own fathers surpassing geographical limits. Only people who missed their fathers sooner or later in their life know where it pinches them; a realization of the loss especially on occasions they are with their own children. I personally sense I am one of those unlucky persons who lost a loving father even before attaining the age-1 landmark. Such losses are so immense that nothing else in the world can compensate for them till the grave. Alarmingly, this condition is worse when we think of children who never had an opportunity to get just one kiss from their fathers.

Behavioural problems in children brought up in conditions of absence of a father in the family are very common and damaging. In such cases most mothers are left alone to work hard for meeting the needs of the family apart from raising children and all other domestic needs leading to a life full of agony and frustration at least until her children are grown up and are capable to take care of themselves and their mother as well.

When given to read the many true stories herein this compilation volume, and requested a 'Foreword' for the book, I was delighted on the striking motive and initiatives of its presenters. Rajeev Mathew Thomas had already created history through a similar volume published earlier titled 'My Mother,' co-authored by 72 individuals from across the world, which must be a world record by itself. Rajeev has invested his talents, and time to bring out such a useful volume of which the proceeds will be used for charity purposes. This is an honourable deal needing great appreciation. For this particular generously proportioned project he is supported by a team of dedicated persons as well. Hats off to you all!

As an ordinary person who lost his father while still a toddler and being a human being who suffered all the pains and agony associated with that loss, I think I earn the privilege to write the 'Foreword' for this particular compilation wherein 102 individuals from all walks of life have written their stories clearly reflecting their feelings. My heart and appreciation goes for those youngsters who have very astoundingly told their stories as to how much their father is valuable to them in life. No attempt is made to change the soul of stories by edit as most of them came from very young story-tellers reflecting their innocent hearts and they are truly wonderful. And, most stories are so much thought provocative, immense in meaning and astonishing in nature! Honestly, I wonder, how immense would be the feelings of those fathers on whom their loving children had warmly scripted their testimonies be! onestlHSome astonishing stories were of help even to me to speculate my own stance in the eyes of my own children!

While I congratulate all the co-authors participated in this great venture in expressing their love and gratitude to their fathers through the pages of this book, in different styles of story-telling and enjoy being with them passionately, I wish to console those who do not have their fathers alive, from deep inside my heart. You are not alone mate....

Prof. Dr. Christopher Thomas PhD

Author, Human Rights Counsel
Contents

1. Aaheli Poddar My Father—My Inspiration

2. Abdalrahim Jamal Almahallaw My Father - My Curator

3. Abdulla Hassan My Farsighted Father

4. Abdulrahman Hassan My Influential Father

5. Abir Eladel Bouguerra A Truly Great Dad

6. Adnan Al-Bulushi My Great Father

7. Afreen Rahman My Father -The True Hero

8. Ahmad Mohammad Abdalfatah Hiasat My Dad- My Role Model

9. Ahmed Emara My Father And I In The Early Days Of Learning

10. Ahmed Soliman My Father – Unique On Earth

11. Aicha Mahfoudh Clearing The Fog

12. Aisha Elallam My Father - My Hero

13. Ali Kazwini My Father – My Buddy

14. Almas Bano Daddy – I Miss You

15. Almuhallab Yaqoob Hamad Al Harthy My Just Father

16. Amna Al-Jaber My Father – My Partner

17. Amritha Rajan Unforgettable Moments

18. Anagha Chakravarthi My Inspirational Father

19. Ann Jacob Vantage Point

20. Ariq Effendi My Father – My Teacher

21. Armand Mazalan My Generous Father

22. Cindy Joycelyn Fernandes He Found The Light In My Eyes

23. Dan Varghese Sweet Memories of My Father

24. Dasa Riadi My Miraculous Father

25. Deena Abdullah My Father- An Unsung Hero

26. Deena Abu Al Saad You Never Know What You've Got Until You Lose It

27. Dr. Kiran Bala My Reputable Dad

28. Eman Zabi My Father's Legacy

29. Emila Maria Amin My Journeying Father

30. Faisal Al-Bulushi My Greatest Role Model Dad

31. Farah Maher George Zahrah My Hero In Life

32. Farida Hisham Tawfik My All-Round Father

33. Fathima Hanan My Hero and My Idol – My Papa

34. Fatima Abdelaal Hamour My First-In-Line Father

35. Gaby Andre Dsouza My Father's Foot Steps

36. Gina Susan John and Manoj John My Papa –The Best

37. Hafizh Shiddiq My Compromising Father

38. Hamad Al Fakhri My Father

39. Hamad Al Thani Why My Dad is Special to Me

40. Hanan Said The Colour of My Soul

41. Haneen Muhanna My Relationship With My Father

42. Hanis Haznina Hasnizam My Dad

43. Heba Sajid Amin I Remember

44. Hiba Parveen My Father

45. Hinna Mehaboob I Am Glad... I Have My Dad

46. Hisham Hussain My Father, My Model

47. Huthaifa Hammoudeh Hammoudeh's Story

48. Imran Gaffur The Life Instructor

49. Iqbal Ahmad My Father – My Support

50. J.M.Soorya Narayan Life Happens

51. Joanne E. John He's My Dad

52. Joshua Piers Wesley Casson My Father, My All

53. Joyston Wadnill Morer My Father: My Power, My Strength

54. Khalid Al-Ibrahim My Father – My Adviser

55. Mahalakshmi Sarma My Proud Father

56. Mahmoud M. Eid A Letter to My Father

57. Malak El-Madhoun My Father's Love

58. Mariam Mohamed Ahmed Khalil My Father – The Best

59. Mariam Sami Abda I Love You Dad, No Matter What

60. Mariam Yasser Rashad Nofal My Superman

61. Marwa Saleh Thanking Dad

62. Maryam Ahmed Al-Boainin I Would Love To Be A Hero

63. Megan Binnekamp Why I love my Dad

64. Meghna Dipaksinh Jadav Hats Off To You, Dad

65. Mohammed Al Kubaisi Why My Dad is Special to Me

66. Mohammed Bin Salman Al-Sudairy My Dad and Me

67. Mohammed Jaber Essa Al-Kubaisi My Wonderful Father

68. Moustafa Amin Mohammed Ali To My Father

69. Nadia Al Majid My Life with My Father

70. Najla Khalid Alhajri Superman Is Not Immortal

71. Nimra Basharat Qureshi Light Of My Life

72. Nittala A L Sruthi My Dad, The Paragon

73. Nouf Al Mansour Why My Dad is Special to Me

74. Pannashri Appa

75. Priya Varughese My Best Man

76. Radhika Nambiar My Inspiration and Confidence – My Father

77. Raheja R.G My Father – My Ideal

78. Rajeev Balakrishnan Friend, Philosopher And Guide

79. Rajka Milanovic Galbraith, M.D My Father - A Remembrance

80. Rami Chahine My Father's Gift

81. Randa Dibaje I Love My Dad

82. Rency Thomas My Father– My Driving Force

83. Renita D'silva DAD –My Super Hero

84. Ross Vernon Dias My Father - My Everything

85. Rowda Al Attiya The Best Father

86. Rudein Abu Hamdan My Caring Father

87. Rupal Aroza My Very Special Gift, My Father

88. Saad Manzoor Al-Suwaidi My Friend, My Brother, My Hero; My Father

89. Saadiyah A.R.Mukadam My Father –A Self Made Person

90. Salman Fatahillah My Loving Father

91. Sashmi Dunusinghe Love Of A Father

92. Satya Prasad My (Grumpy, Tyrant) Loving Father

93. Saurabh Mathur Watching Me Grow

94. Shajeedha Ameerudeen Lessons In Courage With Dad

95. Sonita Ann Koshy On A Flooded Day, With My Father

96. Sony Raheja My Lovable Father

97. Sravani K.P A Letter to My Dear Father

98. Sunitha Shyam Our Role Model

99. Tarek Shamma Outside The Shadow Of My Father

100. Thangamma Thomas My Beloved Father

101 .Yumna Ali Khan My Experiences with My Father

102. Zaid Khider My Roving Father

My Father—My Inspiration

By: Aaheli Poddar

My father, as a young boy hadn't got half as many privileges as he has provided me with. His childhood, set in the backdrop of Durgapur a small town in West Bengal, India, was not one of great comforts but of one where he knew if he couldn't become anything, there would be no one to support his family. The little that his parents had done for him would not be of any use anymore.

The load of such big dreams and aspirations carried by a boy of such a tender age was difficult, but my father did it and exceeded everybody's expectations. It was not that my father did not enjoy his childhood, or that he kept on sitting in one corner with a book in front of him. In fact he was a fantastic football player of his time. He used to play around, do everything a boy of his age would do, but with this playfulness he also developed a sense of responsibility, a sense that made him what he is today and a sense I, his daughter, always lacked.  
My mother is always telling me to go study and it's the same case with many others like me and like all others even I would ignore her and go on doing what I wanted to do. All my parents' would ask me, "Hey, what plans do you have for the future?" and I would always keep quiet thinking why I still didn't have a particular goal.

Not doing anything important whatsoever, I asked my mother if she had decided her future when she was my age. Like all mothers she got to give the big speech every mother wants to give their teenage children. She told me many things that I had heard from many people before: you should always have an aim in life, always work hard etc. etc.... then she mentioned something about my father that caught my attention.

I had heard before that my grandparents weren't very rich people when they brought my father up, but I never really came to know how much will-power my father had when he was small. My father had always been a bright student. He had always exceeded expectations of his parents, friends and relatives. His head had the intelligence much more than that of any normal student. But his parents had never recognized this fact. His little happiness' had never been given any importance at all. Soon my father learned to live with that in his life. He never complained even when things he did not like were said or done to him and after a while he just learned to control his emotions really well and became strong from inside. Every setback seemed to encourage him to fight against it all the more. He built his self- confidence in this way.

Surprisingly, he did not refrain from enjoying his childhood like any other ordinary boy of his age. In addition to being a fantastic football player, he was great collector of postage stamps and so on.

He had much more general knowledge and a lot more moral sense than I had at that age.

He used his knowledge in many places. Not only in school, but also in practical life; he became a perfectionist because of the grit he had about doing something, about becoming something, to exceed everyone's expectations and to show everyone who did not have faith in him that he could do it, he could go ahead of everyone and show them that he has it in him to make them proud of him.  
His parents never believed in him. They just wanted him to stand on his feet to earn money for the family and improve the financial condition of the house.

My dad was a genius in Maths and wanted to study more with it. But he was forced down to study for engineering so that he could land a job faster.

The choice my dad had never been given was what I got from him. The day he came back with an engineering degree, he decided to give me all that he had always wanted.

My dad got a normal job, he earned a pretty normal salary, he got a little daughter (me!!!), and a small and happy family.

My dad worked hard day and night to give me a proper childhood, to make every moment by little eyes, at that time, would see memorable. He taught me many values, told me many of the stories of his childhood and some things that even my grandparents did not know. We shared a special bond and little by little, as time passed, I realized how close I and my dad were and that I always had to preserve this relationship we shared.

My dad used to work in a government office in India, shame that an intelligent brain got such an unchallenging place to work in, but suddenly one day, he got a job offer from an office in Muscat, Oman. This was his first step in the Gulf region. At first, I didn't want to let him go, but then all the moments when I saw the wistful look in his eyes about not being able to fulfil his dreams came in front of me, I decided it was best that I don't stand in the way of him and his dreams.

The hardest time of my life was those two years I spent without my dad before joining him when he finally got a job in Doha. In those two years I learnt from the times we had spent with each other since I starting speaking my first words the message he had been trying to give me all these years....and it was not that I had to fulfil his dreams, but to dream my own dreams and fulfil them to the best of my capacity and not be afraid of any of the difficulties that I may have to face because when my dad was there with me no one could stop me from achieving what I had to.

So, I can proudly say that I'm my daddy's girl!!!!

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My Father - My Curator

By: Abdalrahim Jamal Almahallawi

As my father said to me once "If you want to be a father, you have to play children's games, if you want to be a father, you have to share teenager's dreams and be the one in your son's eyes. If you want to be a father, you have to be as a phoenix and start anew from the worst failure. If you want to be a father, you must learn how to love without conditions."

My father does everything to make our lives better. He is our bright light especially in the darkest moments of our lives. Although he taught me how to depend on myself, life is too much to handle without his heart.

From the day I opened my eyes, I saw a kind hearted smile, my father's smile; the man who has given his life to make me happy, to make me feel that I am the only one in his world.

My childhood was filled with my father's touch. I still remember him playing with me as a child. He made me laugh for hours. When I was five years old I spent the whole day beside him. I went to work with him, met all his friends and relatives. I became his "partner" as always he called me. When I was seven, I asked him to take me to his work again because I liked being his partner. It was amazing to feel how all his friends loved me because I was his son.

One day we went to a building site several miles from our town where my father was an engineer. Unfortunately, our car broke down on the way back. We waited for someone to help us, but no cars came by. The sun was burning. Even though it was too hot to walk, he carried me the entire way on his back. He told me stories so I would forget about the heat. He never complained about how hot it was or how heavy I was on his shoulders. After he got me home he stayed two days in bed from heatstroke and dehydration. How great this heart!

Two years ago, during the last war in Gaza, my entire family moved to the "safest" room in our house (which itself was not very safe and it was extremely small). There wasn't even enough room for all of us to sleep. During the entire war my father slept near the door. He had us put cotton in our ears so we could sleep. He stayed awake all night watching over us, keeping us safe. I remember seeing him in the middle of the night washing his face with cold water to keep awake. No matter what the situation, life is wonderful beside my father; I will forever treasure the sacrifices that he has made for me.

My dear father is a patient and wise man. Even though I am no longer a boy I still feel his warmth and love for me. Even when I make mistakes his warm support never stop. My father always said "Everybody makes mistakes but those who are smart can fix these mistakes and move on to help me build who I am." He helps me think about my future. He teaches me how to be strong but merciful, steadfast but flexible. He always believes in me.

I have become who I am because of my father's presence in my life. There has been no greater influence in my childhood than my strong and caring father. I can't imagine one day as I grow old, not having his protection. I will always remember his words forever as an instruction for me to build my future. From my part my promise is that I will take care of him in his sadness and happiness. Until my last breath, I will be his son. I will rejoice the day I truly become "Like father like son".

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..........

If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

............
My Farsighted Father

By: Abdulla Hassan

At the start of this competition, even thinking about writing 1000 words was far away from my ability but thinking more about it made me want to have the emotions in my heart copied on to the paper and thus I could write 10,000 words till now about my father, especially how through times of happiness I came close to him. He is......Hassan Ahmed, born in 1956, now 55 years old. My father is a fine man. His first job was as an engineer. He married my mom in his early 30's and then I was born. After 2 years my brother and sister came. Then my mom gave birth to my little brother. We were living in L.A.- America, when my father said that we have to move to a bigger house for our development. So, we went to Alexandria-Egypt, and we lived in a bigger house and my father found a better job.

My mom wanted to drive, so she took the driving license. But when we bought her a new car, she crashed it into a tree, totally destroying the car. Nothing happened to my mom, but the car was wrecked. Let's get back to the story; my dad was so happy when he knew that I was born. He liked to spend with me a lot of time. From the time I knew how to say simple words when I was 3 years old my father took me to America to spend the rest of the vacation there. My dad signed me and my 2 brothers and sister in a school in Egypt. I was a naughty boy at that time.

I was short tempered and I wanted everything to be mine. I spent 2 years in that Egyptian school, when I got expelled from it. Then I went to another school in Alexandria. In the 5th year, I got out of school for arguing with a teacher. It was a tough life when I was young.

My father has very much influenced me in my life. He has put my expectations high up enough to the point I know that I can work when I am 13 years old. I learned everything that a man should know how to become a successful business man and to run my father's company that he owns.

My father wanted me to succeed in secondary school and then go to university and then go work, then take a long vacation for like an year and travel the world a bit then get married and have a happy family.

My father and I had some ups and downs, but it doesn't affect us a lot. My father was a strict man he had strict rules in our family and if any one break any of the rules he gets punished. It sounds like a fair deal and it's a good one too.

My father is a solid man who knows how to take control of a family even if there are 4-5 people in the family. My father hated animals; he didn't like them at all. He hated them since he was small. That was a bad thing for us because I loved animals and I know how to take care of animals. My mom also loved animals but not all the rest.

I have six animals, 3 kittens which are usually in my room, 2 parrots and a dog, all of them are in my room but the dog is a puppy and it can't take care of itself. So I take care of it until it is old enough to take care of itself.

My brothers and sister don't like handling animals having claws or that makes a lot of sound, and that needs responsibility. My small brother sometimes comes into my room and plays with the cats and parrots. This is so frustrating because I leave my computer opened with my personal stuff and I don't like anyone going into my personal stuff.

My dad doesn't like animals to come near him that's why the cats are in my room the parrots are in my room and the dog is in my room, somehow the room is big enough to fit all of this.

My father likes to encourage me to succeed in my school, he knows what's best for me and he will want me to succeed in my life. My father gave me a lot of encouragement and taught me manners and how to respect other people. My reputation in school is 100% and I would not let anyone make it bad.

My father is one of a kind, he is unique and he leads me to the right steps and makes me stay out of trouble, he cares about my education and about my future, I always loved my father and I will always do what he says. He had a big role in my life. I want my father to be in my daily life for each and every single second of my breath. I don't care what anyone else thinks. He will stay the only best father to me, and I will always pass this story to my grand children and they will keep passing it on and on and my father will never be forgotten.

I could never stop talking about my father. I will lift my head up in the air and keep on talking about him no matter what happens and I will make him feel all the days of his life that spent on raising me, will come back to him and he will be very proud of me in the days to come.

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My Influential Father

By: Abdulrahman Hassan

I cannot recall a person in my life that had a more significant influence on me than my father. My Father has been the large force behind my achievements in life. Everything I was able to accomplish had my father in its background. Throughout my fifteen years of life my father has been responsible, caring and appropriately strict, yet he understands the problems and stresses of being a teenager. He is the most influential person in my life and probably isn't aware of how much he has affected my existence.

I am a product of my father's teachings and support. He is a source of inspiration and enlightenment to me. He didn't want me to be an ordinary person, but one who can make a change to the people around him. The actual meaning of father is a male parent, a person who founds a line or family, a man who starts, creates or invents something. To me, the definition of father is the loving, caring responsible, influential male who has significantly affected the existence of my being and future possibilities.

My father, Hassan Ahmed Hassan, works as a business manager in Qatar. He is in his fifties and still manages to successfully do his job and raise his family. My father earns a good amount of income and chose to put me in the one of the best schools in Qatar.

I remember to have asked my father once why I don't have this and that and he told me something which affected me beyond the extreme and which really opened my eyes. He said "You might not inherit money from me, but at least you inherited love, wisdom and a brain full of science and math. I put you in the best schools for a reason, I didn't want you to get lost in selfishness and ego with money, I wanted you to learn and know as much possible; you have a PS3. Do people in the Pakistani floods have a PS3? You have an I-touch; do people in Somalia have an I-touch? NO! Abdulrahman, learn to thank God for everything you have, everything even if it was a bread crumb, always say thank God, and be fortunate for what you have, not the opposite!

I cannot describe how these words affected my life; his words were extremely deep and meaningful. Every day, I wake up in the morning and thank God for my computer, bed, clothes, AC. When I go to school I thank god I have education in the very best of schools. When I go home, I thank God for the car and the safe country I live in. When I eat, I thank God for the delicious warm food I taste. I thank God for everything now, just because of those five minutes with my father.

I was once watching a movie in which a muscular figure was beating people and talking roughly with others. My father realized, through my actions, that I was trying to copy that muscular figure. He asked me why I am copying that muscular figure. And I simply replied back "because he's a man". My father calmly took me aside and said "a man is not known by his muscles, tone or style, a man is known by his wisdom, responsibility and actions.

You see, my father has contributed in every aspect in me which made me the person I am. My father raised me to be a proper, successful man, and that's how I shall remain for the rest of my life. There are many features, rather elements I like about my father. I appreciate how he is appropriately strict, I like how he understands me and I also admire the treatment and respect I receive from him. Personally, I think my father is a blessing from God, every day I am grateful that God has blessed me with this being and I thank Him for that. People may say that they love their father because it is part of their duty, however for me; I love my father not because it is my duty, but because I fully admire this amazing person.

When I told my teachers and friends that I want to become President of Egypt, some told me that it's impossible, some said its hard work and some just laughed their hearts out. But I got a different supportive response from my father; he was glad that I had a goal, especially this one! And he told me to hold on to it. I don't want to be an ordinary president who works to make a living and gain power control or money, but someone who can actually make a change to the better.

People may think "WOW, what a relationship, but doesn't he get in to rough times with his father?? I don't believe that there is a perfect father but I do believe there is an excellent father. We have had some rough times with each other, but when I juxtapose both sides of my father it always turns out to the good. Even though, I still will love my father no matter what.

Like the time where my father gave me the silent treatment which basically means when your father ignores every single thing you do, doesn't talk or speak to you, he becomes silent towards you, hence the name. Sometimes, I remember to have disrespected my father by refusing to obey him and speaking roughly to him because he ordered me to take out the trash several times. I don't know what got into me; I ruined my father-son bond because of garbage! Nevertheless, I apologized to my father and he apologized back, after minutes of tears of apologizing for the past, we decided that those lame fights shall never occur again.

I could spend days and nights writing about my father because there is too much to talk about and many things which could only be felt through the heart. Therefore, I am thankful for everything my father taught me. He taught me all the things that I need right now or was going to need in life. Whatever I will achieve in life will be credited to him. I believe that my father will always be with me even after his soul leaves his body; he will be there through his teachings that I believe are my duty to pass on to my children. He will be there through me; when the people see my remarkable success one day, they will then know the value of his teachings.

And that's why I will always love my father. Always...

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A Truly Great Dad

B:y Abir Eladel Bouguerra

What a coincidence, actually what a great chance to have this opportunity to translate some of my wavy thoughts on few white pages of this book. I was wondering lately about the possibility of giving some attention to fathers as we do with mothers, I mean we do know that there are so many occasions to celebrate mothers' existence in our lives and even to thank them for all the care and the tenderness that they carry for us, but do we really do for fathers? Have we really specialised such occasions for fathers?

I don't think so, and that's why I thought the idea of this book is just so amazing. But then I asked myself: If I really had the chance to thank fathers, my own father, for being here for me, for guiding me to reach my ambitions, for teaching me how to be patient and for showing me the reality of LIFE......How would I do it? How can I thank him in few lines? And so this will be the answer, my answer, for all these questions:

Dad: with every "D" I spelled I felt the real Dab and the real fount that escapes me through every single decline I have, and with every single "A" I said I felt the love that Abounds my life, and so with every "DAD" word I spelled.....

It's not that hard to see the silent care that my father offers to me through every single act he does; he has taught me how to smile when he carried me in the crisis, he has showed me how to act when he saved my life once from that quake, he has offered me life when he guided me through the road, when he showed me how to claim and when he told me that's the deal, he has brought me out to life when he took me to the school, when he showed me my new life, in the classes, in a tour, he has taught me to reach the goal when I saw that happy tear.

I was, once, a little girl, a 5 year-old girl, playing and laughing, I can almost swear you could hear my innocent laughs two doors away from my house, from 'our' little, calm, peaceful home in Tunisia.

Daddy was sitting there in a shiny corner with my mother, they were talking to each other, planning our life, sharing their feelings and contemplating my innocence, my pure laughter; I still can remember those gold fine high yarns reflected on his face, I still can see that pure wisdom of history held in the depth of his look, the innocent reflection of purity saved in his sight, I clearly can listen to the echo of his care held by the sound of his laugh.

I still can remember that, I still can see him sitting and talking, struggling and praying; No one could imagine that a moment of innocence can turn out to a memory of sufferance, no one could ever hear the sound of the struggle coming in the middle of the joy;

It just happened, everything was moving around us, we were moving, and everything was being destroyed, all around us, all in front of our sights.

I didn't know what happened, I still can't remember the details but I'm just sure about one thing; my dad's pure love to me and to my family, I'm just sure about one only thing, when I opened my eyes under the remnants of the quake, that quake that has just crushed the smile, that has drained the innocent laugh, all I could hear is the voice of my dad talking to me and trying to calm me down, he was trying and saying, repeating to me over and over again;

For the one who feels so sad

For the one who thinks he's all alone

For the one who drops some tears

On the sweet cheeks of life

Your dream is away but your heart is awake

With the strength of the fancy

With the courage of reality

You will catch your willingness.

For the soul that leaves the emptiness

For the heart that cries the road

For the eye that sees the darkness

In the well day lighted room

Have some faith, some trusty days

Your dream is away but your heart is awake

With the strength of the fancy

With the courage of reality

You will catch your own dream.

He kept saying that, trying to calm me down, he wanted to hear my voice, he wanted to know that I'm doing ok so far, that I'm just doing fine, and so, again, he heard the innocent sound of my laugh, yes, I was simply laughing. I still can't figure out the real reason behind that laughter; was it because I knew that my parents were just fine or was it simply because I was rescued or maybe because I was able to see that little drop running of my father's eyes, those happy tears that taught me how to reach my goal, that have named the real sense of ambitions deep in my consciousness. I believe I've seen those happy tears coming out of my parents' eyes but the memories just stopped there, simply to save the charm of that historical moment for me, the memory of me being carried in my parents' hands.

You may be wondering how I could read all these facts on the pages of my memory, or how I could see all those realities between the plies of my life. Actually I couldn't, back at that time, as any kid, all I cared about was playing and laughing carried by the time, but now I do, I've just discovered that I do, writing this article, and telling you about these facts....

This can never be enough to tell, or should I say to translate, the grace that I have being blessed with such a father and being offered such a lightening guide to frame my days -- my life-- my existence!

Dad, although this word carries so many secrets down between its plies it's not that hard to understand it neither it's hard to appreciate it's reflect;

Your father, my father is here all around my life, that's right, he leaves with me and he has always been watching me growing through days, did I think about that before? Have I really thought about the little talk that we have after a tiring school day before? Have I thought about the effort that he makes when I ask him for that book after a long working day? Did I think about the feeling that he carries when he sees that sad little tear draining my smile? I honestly don't think I did, and surely I haven't seen that clearly as I do, now, in this moment.

Sometimes, I admit, we become blinded: angry about the party that we will never be able to attend, mad about the punishment that we have to deal with, furious about the conversation that we had about college. We no more have the ability to think clearly or to realise the importance of that, trust me I was once like that; can't accept criticism and don't really want to listen, till I wrote this short article that offered me the chance to raise my "modest" level of consciousness.

As I know that this little article will never be enough for a book, I'm also sure that this book will never be enough to tell the greatness of my dad nor to describe the blessing I had having him in my life.

And so all I can add is the appreciation I carry and the happiness I hold in my depth, not for being his daughter but for having him as my Dad.

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My Great Father

By: Adnan Al-Bulushi

Throughout my childhood and later till this day, I should admit, my father made great impact in my life which I never realized till I was old enough to differentiate the right path in life from the wrong. I like the term 'father like son' because I am proud that I'm being compared to my dad. Of course, I have a different personality than my father and I think it's because my father never wanted me to go through the same mistakes he has been in when he was a child. My father has influenced my life and he always used to tell me not to smoke and how smoking can affect me when I grow up. Whenever he said that to me, I used to get annoyed and complain that I don't smoke and I will never will, but later I realized that my father was right because when I grew up I had this grudge and I hated whenever someone smoked near me and for some reason I couldn't stand anyone who did smoke.

One reason I respect my father is that whenever I get in to some trouble he never yells at me, he talks to me and warns me and asks me not to do it again, but as an ordinary child I still do the earlier mistakes, and that's when my father yells. Whenever he yelled at me, I used to get angry deep inside and that was only when I was just a child. By the age of 13, I never made my father worry about me. I wanted to show him and gain his trust by not falling into fights and troubles, and of course I did but it wasn't like the old days and everything went smoothly. I did learn from my mistakes and those things that I have been through made me realize and look at things from different perspectives. Whenever I look back, I keep telling myself how stupid I was and back then I always thought raising a child is something easy but as they say if you want a good tree you have to always look after the tree and take care of it. I never did something that goes against my moral beliefs and I think I got that by watching my father and the way he acts. When I was 13 years old my father forbid me from going to some places where my cousins used to go and I always used to complain and keep asking him the reason and all he said was that place is not a good one. But back then to me, that place was like the centre where everything was. When I was almost 15 years old, my father allowed me to go there and I realized how things were bad. Eventually I went through everything and learnt from my mistakes.

My father was born in Oman and back then Oman wasn't advanced like these times. It needed lots of revamp because of the war it was going through. My father was born in a corrupted neighbourhood and there weren't anyone who knew how to speak properly.

When I was 16, suddenly I wanted to show my father that I can depend on myself. I never got annoyed nor fought with my brother. I just knew that there's some stuff not worth fighting for. My father wasn't the type of guy who likes to get into arguments unlike me. I still love to get into arguments and prove that I'm right like back then I never admitted that I was wrong. I always thought that it was embarrassing to be wrong but my father taught me that admitting that you are wrong isn't embarrassing or something to be ashamed off. I thank my father because, in summer 2009 my father didn't allow me to watch TV and that's when I started reading. Week after week I kept reading every day, and whenever I get tired due to the non-stoppable reading , I just lay down and sleep , and when I wake up I just keep on reading again. My father never said 'No' to the things that he knew that would benefit me in the long run. He always used to instruct me and all I can say that I couldn't have made it without my father he was always there supporting me whenever I tripped along the way.

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..........

If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

............
My Father -The True Hero

By: Afreen Rahman

To date, my father has never pushed me into anything, coaxed nor gotten involved in anything I have ever done. But not a single thing I have achieved could have been possible without him.

A few days ago, I was preparing a speech for a competition that was being held in my city, Doha, Qatar. When I was done, I read it out to him. His response was callous, almost non-existent. Upon insisting further, he mildly suggested that maybe the examples could be changed or I could quote something from my own life. That was all I could get out of him. His advice was so simple that it hardly registered. I got on with my work and later modified the speech a bit to incorporate some incidents from my life. At the competition where I delivered my speech, the audience was highly appreciative. I was glad then, to be able to say that the speech was completely my own work. My father standing nearby didn't say a word.

This is only one of the many such incidents in my life. He has never forced anything upon me but has also never limited my horizons. He has always let me experiment and grow. I was allowed to use his computer and the Internet even before I could properly read. And when I would press some wrong keys and cause it to crash, he would take it to the computer shop, get it repaired and bring it back to me the very next day. Where my mom saw an unnecessary expense, he would see a learning experience. Our house is full of books and whenever I feel like stepping out, I can grab a football or a bat and go out to play. I have never been able to complain of a broken bat or the fact that I can't find my favourite drink in the refrigerator. Even if that extremely rare occasion were to arise, my needs would be fulfilled by the next day at the max. Many times I have heard my mom tell my dad "You did not have to hurry; the kids would not have died if they hadn't had their Choco-milk for the day." And he would just smile that sweet smile of his and listen to her patiently.

But that does not mean he would spoil us. He knew where to draw the line and deal with us accordingly. He would rather remain the bad guy than let us go bad. When I learnt to swim, skate or cycle there were many times when he would let me fall while he would stand and watch. He would let me try till I got it right or fall down again, wherein he would watch until I got up on my own. When I was a kid, one of my biggest complaints was that he would blatantly refuse to help me even a little by researching or formatting my school projects, while the other kids would get their parents to do everything and then get credit for excellent work. He would even tell me outright, that he would not do that and I would have to learn on my own. He would rather that I got a grade for my own work than interfere and make me dependent on him. I used to fiercely hate him for letting me fall and fail all those times. I would get angry on how he would say that he was not competent enough when all the other kids' fathers were able to fetch them such amazing grades. I would consider him a villain, and even though he knew it, he did nothing. Today, I am 16 years old and say that I have learnt to swim, skate and many other things by myself. It has taken me many years to realize who the true hero is.

My father never screamed at me when I erred. Rather, knowing my rebellious nature, he inspired me. I have a respect for him that comes from experience. A few weeks before my eighth birthday, I started to cycle on my neighbour's bicycle and my mom planned to get me one for my birthday. As always, I found out about the plan days before it. At 4 o'clock on the morning of my birthday, my dad woke me up and took me to the living room. In the middle of the room was my new bicycle. He had gone at 12 the night before, after I had gone to sleep, to get my gift. All my drowsiness was shaken off and the excitement and surprise I felt then, greatly surpassed the happiness I would have felt, if it had been given to me at the party instead. It was this understanding of my character by my father that enabled him to turn the birthday present I was already expecting, into the biggest surprise. That day, my respect towards him grew immensely and it still continues to. He has never inspired fear but rather, love towards him in me. And it is due to this, that I revere him. Maybe if instead he had scolded me, I would not have listened to him.

As far as I know, my father has never made any of the big sacrifices that you read about in stories. But, it is the small things I would find hardest to repay. He would buy all sorts of fast-food for us but starve himself from 7 to 3 at the office to save up for the cost of eating out. As I type this, I can hear my 9 year old brother asking him to call up his friend's dad to ask him to come over. He says no, and tells my brother to do it himself. As I hear my brother grumbling while he calls his friend, I know he is learning a valuable skill here.

To conclude, what makes my father, Syed Habeeb-Ur-Rahman great, is not what he has made me, but what he has let me become.

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My Dad- My Role Model

By: Ahmad Mohammad Abdalfatah Hiasat

There is nothing nicer than writing about the relationship between me and my beloved father. I'm a 14 year old hard working student who has a great father who cares and treats his son with devotion. A father who is protective and gives his son a love that is beyond description. My father and I bond really well and share a lot, we share laughter, tears, happiness, sadness and most importantly respect.

I come from Jordan; a beautiful country in the Middle East and about a two and a half hour flight from Qatar. I moved to Qatar approximately four years ago, and had never slept in a building that my dad was not sleeping in. However, that all changed last year when I joined my wonderful school, Qatar Leadership Academy (QLA), a military boarding school in Al Khor about 50Km away from my house in Doha, where my father lives. I know this sounds like my parents want to get rid of me, but in Qatar Leadership Academy I get the best education, training and joint leadership programs which build my personality to become a successful leader one day. But I'm not alone in Qatar Leadership Academy; my brother Hamzah joined me this year.

I am aware that a bright and a successful future awaits me after graduating from this great school and I know that I have my brother here with me along with my great classmates and TACs who make sure that we are comfortable every night, but nothing feels like being home with my dad under the same roof, where I feel super comfortable and safe. Spending my time with someone special, someone who represents a large piece of my heart, my DAD! Every time I take part in an activity I remember that I can be doing it with my dad, and how it would be much more fun if he were there to share the moment with me.

When I went to a regular school I had the best moments of my life with my father. We did lots of fun stuff, like playing football, jogging or camping, and more serious stuff like prayers; and those that are just funny like cracking jokes and watching comedy movies. In the past we spent almost every minute of the day together building memories to remember later, unfortunately now that I'm in 'QLA' those memories are almost impossible to build. The time I get to spend with him is less now, because during the week I am in school, and on the weekends I am busy doing my homework. Although I am getting to build memories with my friends, it's just never like the precious times I spent with my caring father, no one loves me as much as he does, no one cares about me the way he does and no one in the entire world enjoys spending time with me as much as he does.

I see my father as the most gracious, loving person among people. He's kind, gentle, successful and loved by everyone else. My dad is a role model to me and I make sure I follow him in everything he does and someday I want to grow up and treat my children just the same way he treats me, my mom, sisters and brother. I want to tell my children about all the moments I had and hopefully will have this summer vacation and the ones following, with him to build up all these priceless moments. To me, my father is one of the smartest people on earth, he's the one who leads me and tells me what's right from wrong, and guides me through ups and downs.

One memory which I have of dad and I together is when I was a young boy during the month of Ramadan, the month we fast in. My family was waiting for the food and waiting for the time to pass quickly and I being a young boy like other young boys was very demanding, and right before the food was served I wanted my mother to make my favourite meal; burgers and fries, but on that day we had grandma coming to have Iftar - food after fasting, with us and she preferred a certain meal made by mom, so my mom made that meal for her and like any other boy I got angry when I didn't get what I wanted. When it was time to eat I did not sit at the table with my family which was a really rude thing to do, but again, I was a young boy. After a period of time with my parents, siblings and grandmother calling me to eat I felt really hungry, but still did not want to show up there and be weak. My father knows that when I want something I do not give up easily on it, so he left the table and asked my mother to put his food aside and grabbed the car keys then told me to come with him. After five minutes of driving we stopped by a burger shop and my father bought a meal for me. At that age, that was the best day in my life. Since that day I wanted to be like my father; a person who cares about his children, loves them and would do whatever it takes to make them happy! Looking at it now, I think my father could have forced me to sit with the family at the table but I really loved my father for what he did that day.

Knowing that I'm spending most of my time in QLA instead of being with my father, living and building more memories of camping trips, prayers, stories, chats and all the exciting fun things we used to do, I would still say that it is great to be in that school and I hope that I can learn something new that I can pass to my dad maybe and hopefully be a great leader in my family just like my dad. God bless my DAD!

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My Father And I In The Early Days Of Learning

By: Ahmed Emara

When a son is sitting lonely, depressed, there is one person he could always go to, his father. A father has many meanings in the English language, most of which describe him as the male parent. Yet the father is something deeper than that; he is the best friend, he is the teacher to his sons and daughters. They look up to him, and he looks after them, protecting them, feeding them, and giving them a joyful life.

My father is a role model to me. I look up to him in many aspects of life. I have always dreamed to become like my father, although it still seems a long way. He is just so special, unique, to me. I can't describe how my life would be without him. My father inspires me to become like him, which will be my personal mission in life.

As a father should do, my father has many jobs and roles he must attend to. The basic one is his normal job, where he goes off to work to earn money. His second job is parenting, and I must say he has done the best a father can do. He might have a hard time coping with parenting, but I can see it's done from the heart. Deep down I know he does because he wants to, not because he has to.

Education leads to knowledge; knowledge opens up the locked doors in life. The school provides us with education, but my father provides the school with the fee. I really want to learn, but I haven't asked for it. My father is doing what's best for me. I deeply appreciate that; this brings us closer.

In my time of need, I know where to go for help. It isn't my teacher, it isn't my brother but it is my father. I trust that he continuously has answers to what is bothering me. Tutoring me is one of his main goals, always providing me with knowledge from his past. He has gained a lot of experience, which benefit me. I live in Qatar, where we have to wake up really early to go to school. In all my years of learning, my dad strictly advised me to sleep at least eight hours of the night, and have a good breakfast. A reason for that is that it prepares me for the school day. He has been through the opposite, and he knows the results.

In school, we come across different problems which we, as students still learning, might find difficult to solve. The same thing happens through life as we develop. I can scarcely remember a time where my father couldn't provide me with a solution to my predicament. He has fought to gain knowledge of all things going around us. These are the features I wish to adopt from him.

I love my dad. And it's not because I have to or because I am made to, it is because I want to. He truly is the best dad ever. And no matter how much I explain it, no one will ever understand how much I love him. It is just like the laws of physics. Can you explain why there is gravity? No matter how long you explain it, there will always be that bit left which leaves the question unsolved.

It is not the games which make our relationship so great. It is not the fact that money is accessible and can be used in large amounts. It was never about the gifts showered upon me in birthdays or otherwise, but the actual thought of rewarding me with a present. With this, my father encourages me to be the best I can. I do not do it to get rewarded, but I do it because it's right. That is what my father has taught me. It feels good to make your father proud.

Clearly my father and I are close. I know I can share secrets with him, confide with him. He is my father and my best friend at the same time. I do not need to know how many other people say this, but my father, is one of a kind.

My father (poem)

On the 4th of October year 95, I was born on a hospital bed,

I looked up to find my lovely mom, and next to her I saw my dad.

From then I understood the meaning of courage, knowledge as well as love,

My dad was the guardian that I've always had, a guardian sent from above.

At the age of four, I went to school, and started a learning spree,

The teachers I knew were earning money, my father he paid their fee.

In school I've had my share of problems, faced them not once but twice,

Who is there to help and guide me through them, my father he gives me advice.

My dad you are the best, life without is so plain,

Can't you see with you I'm blessed, without you I'll go insane!

The greatest dad on Earth, is right here by my side,

And ever since my birth, he has been filling me up with pride.

Your presence gives me hope, telling me to keep working hard,

Between us is a rope, which will never tear us apart.

I know you've sacrificed for me; it's my turn to do the same,

He's built a kingdom for me, a kingdom I'm set to reign.

So in return I've nothing to do, than show loyalty and respect,

The love I'll give to you, will be more love than you'd expect.

I will devote my self-existence, to keep you relaxed and restful,

With or without my assistance, I will nonetheless be as faithful.

At the age of forty, I'll come back from work and find my mom and dad,

Playing a game of scrabble, or watching T.V., having the best time they've ever had.

At that point I'll know, that I've done my job, to please them in every way,

It's not a job, but a hobby, and tired I'm not to do it every day.

On the 4th of October 1995 I was born on a hospital bed,

I looked up to find my lovely mom, and next to her I saw my dad.

I love you dad!

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My Father – Unique On Earth

By: Ahmed Soliman

Ahmed Soliman; a lucky seed that was planted with everlasting kindness to grow up with a strong stem. My father opened the petals of my flower slowly getting the flower closer and closer until I opened bright 1997.

Mr. Khaled Soliman; a man with huge strength grabbed me tightly to him he made me love him more and more. Whether good or bad, he taught me many experiences in life.

Khaled Soliman is a man that was like me, he has influenced my life turning me from being a zombie to becoming Einstein. He was born in an ordinary family on 20th October 1962. It was a very important time for the Egyptian army as they had just fought in a war with Israel after conquering a big part of Egypt- Siena. Most of the babies were not given enough care as the injured soldiers filled the space, so my dad wasn't that much of a lucky child. Unlike me now, he didn't go to Villagio Mall or play in the compound but he used his mind to invent games which he found fun, like playing with rocks! These are all the ways a child in Egypt could have played. He went to an Al Salam school in Tanta, where his hard, backbreaking life made him stronger and his personality was solid. He wasn't strict but in strict times he can be, however he is the comedian of the family! He went to Alex engineering University in 1939 where he had many teenage adventures with many friends that he has until today.

My grandfather was a very strict and a solid man because he was a warrior that fought with Egypt, he is a man that is very known I really like him because he always takes me next to him and describes for me how and what happened in the war and says 'a photo is a thousand words.'

My family planted me tightly to the ground so every issue of life was in my mind; they wanted me to be the best but nothing else. I was born in Egypt where working is a battle between a prayer and a predator; a rabbit and a wolf.

My dad is always a friend for me, we always argue about football matches just with like commercials! Eight years ago I arrived in Qatar with my whole family. I went to the Egyptian school of Doha, I have to say it had a huge difference to QIS but I still learned a lot and life became a lot easier. Most of my family likes to joke a lot especially my grand sister she is very good at drawing smiles on people's faces at accurate and the right times.

My brother lifts me up as a senior year student. When I frown, he takes me around across the compound and discusses with me the problem. My mother, what can I say, she never lets me down. She dries my tears with graceful words she cares so much about me, especially after only a year when my brother and sister will leave the book of their school to open a new brimful book of university, so I will be alone in the house.

My father has a long big hand of truth lifting up to my future. His hands are warm and soft, catching me from falling. He helped me through my ups and downs, to get where I am now in Qatar International School; year eight, fighting for a place in life! something that I could never have dreamt or known without him.

Although in my father's time there were rare schools that taught English and they were very expensive. But he wanted his dream 100 %; his dream was to work at Alcon Company of Egypt. The communications there were Arabic but he always looked forward, he was sent for three weeks to England to learn about some medical machines, he insisted on learning English.

Coming from the Egyptian School to QIS was a lot different so with great personality he taught me English and revised regularly my vocabulary. In his eyes I could always see spirit and ambition which was transmitted to me like light transmitted through glass.

He seemed to be writing my sentences, his hand-writing was all in line, he predicted for me my destination.

A day I really wanted to go out was Friday, I am not used to going out on Friday but my father didn't deny. He said it won't be good, but I insisted like a baby. Only after five minutes of playing, I was slapped with a ball, my lips burst and I fell down. For me and any other kid he would only think what a shame he would do this in front of his dad, but he brought me close to him and gave me a big hug and said, "you are one naughty boy" and laughed, from this event I knew how much he cares about me he is a big influence to me.

He is one of a kind, he is unique on earth as one only, he is interested with my steps and he directs me towards the right steps. He gives me freedom when I need it. He thinks for my future from now. He bought a new house for the future of the Soliman family, for me and my brother and sister, to remember him and my mother and to write and tell who Khaled Soliman is.

I could never be more proud of him, I could never finish giving out what in my heart I feel about my father; the computer would explode! The world's ink would run out! This is not exaggerating, but facts that I have expressed are so memorable. I will hold my head high up talking about him, I will never stop the train speeding but I will make it faster and all my grand children will know who is KHALED SOLIMAN?

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Clearing The Fog

By: Aicha Mahfoudh

It was a cold winter day in the month of February, 2000. I was 9 years old back then and had just come back from school, which was situated in the state of Colorado in the United States. I was lying on my bed, reading about the planets of our solar system. I marvelled at Saturn's beauty and at Pluto's minuteness. I admired their stability, the consistency of their being. They swam in their respective orbits; year after year, century after century. Nothing obstructed their serenity. Nothing threatened their tranquillity.

They were stable beings.

"Children! Come on downstairs! I have a surprise for you" It was my father.

I heard footsteps. My siblings were already making their way downstairs. I decided I better get going, too.

Once downstairs, I wished I'd never left my room. The living room had been re-arranged. Completely The couches, which were on the right side of the living room, were now on the left side. The TV had been moved accordingly. I stood in disbelief. Everything was backward. Everything was wrong. Out of order.

My father grinned at us. "So, you kids like it?"

My younger sister and brother seemed to love it. They were jumping around in excitement and commenting on how cool everything looked. I couldn't deny the fact that it was more elegant than it used to be. But it was too different. It didn't feel right.

"Uhuh..." was all I could utter.

It was times like this that I wished I was a planet; a stable, tranquil object.

***

The following day was better. My family was invited over at Maliha's (my best friend) house for a get together dinner. I was psyched. I wore a short sleeved, purple colour dress and braided my hair for the occasion.

Unfortunately, my siblings both caught a cold from school and my mother had to stay back home with them. My father called Maliha's family and told them that it was only me and him that were going.

On the way to my friend's house, my father was unusually quiet. The silence was awkward. Uncomfortable, even tension quickly built up in the car. I could feel it. I stole a quick glance at my father. He seemed to be struggling with a certain thought. The silence was suffocating me. I could bear it no longer. I decided to break the silence and so asked: "Baba. You seem deep in thought..."

My voice took him by surprise. "Oh yes, Aicha, I am. I was just thinking... Um... Uh..."

Something must be going on, I thought. My father isn't usually like this. He's never hesitant. His words have always been straight forward, without unnecessary twists and turns. His hesitance was far from being comforting to me. I kept silent, waiting for him to focus his thoughts.

We stopped at a red light and he turned to me. "I was actually thinking about an important matter; one that will greatly impact our family."

I felt my sweat glands start to work at full speed. My hands started shaking and I was left speechless. What did he mean 'greatly impact our family'? I worried.

When my father saw that I kept quiet, he decided to continue. "Let me just lay the news out without any further introductions... Your mother and I decided it was to our family's benefit to move to Saudi Arabia."

I. Need. Air I am on the verge of hyperventilation. We're moving? We're leaving home? I'm leaving my friends? I'm leaving my neighbourhood? My school? My room? My floor? I'm not as materialistic as I may seem, but the idea of leaving home is more than just appalling to me; it's excruciatingly dreadful. And why? Why would my parents do this to me? Why would they pull me out of my comfort zone, away from my friends? Wasn't it enough that I had to deal with this two years back when we moved? I can still remember the tears, the pain, and the agony. I don't want to go through it all again.

But maybe there's some way out of this. Maybe, just maybe, I can convince my father of not moving.

"We're moving to another continent? Aren't we comfortable here, just where we are?" I knew my efforts would be fruitless. But it was worth a shot.

"We like it here. We have friends. But we're really far away from family... Wouldn't you like learning more Arabic?" A very hard question! How am I supposed to answer that? If I say no, then it means I'm betraying my own language, culture and heritage. If I say yes, then it means I agree with the whole moving idea.

"Yes, I would. But you're teaching us Arabic every Saturday morning. Isn't that enough?" Will I convince him? I felt my stomach uncomfortably twist and turn.

"No, Aicha, it's not enough. You'll understand one day." I know I will. I know it's important for me to learn my language. But what about my friends? What about my life? What about my mental stability?

I felt tears form in my eyes. I felt the salt they carried burn my cheeks as they made their way down.

We arrived at my friend's house. I quickly wiped my tears away with my hand.

Be strong, I told myself.

My father noticed me tearing. He hugged me, wiped my tears away and whispered: "I know it's hard. It's hard on all of us. But, a voice deep inside tells me that it'll work out for the best. Everything will work out at the end; just have patience and hope."

Once in Maliha's room, I confided in her all my feelings and sufferings. I spilled it all out. I cried, talked, and cried some more. She held me tight and cried along with me. After I'd calmed down, she started crying. I was confused. I thought I was the one carrying the largest burden between the two of us. I asked her what was wrong.

Between sobs, she answered me. "Aicha, you're not the only one moving. My family is, too."

Her words hit me, and hit me hard. More of my tears found their way down my cheeks. My eyes were burning now. The outpour of salty tears was way more than they could handle.

I held Maliha's hands. "Where to?" I asked.

"Chicago." Was her reply

We both broke into heavier tears. We cried for so long after that, that I thought my eyes would fail me and that I'd go blind.

I couldn't believe it. One evening was all it took to change everything; to turn my life upside-down; to petrify me and almost cause me a nervous breakdown.

***

Months later, the dreaded moving day arrived. My parents were finalizing the luggage and making sure we wouldn't forget anything. I decided to sit on the grass of our front lawn. I tried to take in as many deep breaths as I could out of fear of forgetting the smell of my home. I stared intensely at everything: the neighbours' houses, the sidewalk, the flowers, the trees, the grass, everything.

After a while of this, my parents told us it was time to leave. I panicked. We're leaving? Already? No! Not now. I ran to my room. It's empty. It doesn't look the same anymore, but it's still my room. I stared at it for a whole minute, trying to engrave every part of it in my permanent memory. I had so many memories in this room. I can't forget it. I must not.

I suddenly felt a tender hand on my shoulder. I gave a slight jump. I turned around. It was my father. Our eyes met. We did not say anything. We both knew why I was here. My father hugged me, took my hand and walked me to the car.

As I walked away from my room, I felt a lump form in my throat. There was no point in staying here anymore, I told myself. My best friend had already moved and my parents both thought that we'd all be happier in our new home, I told myself. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat, wiped my tears away and moved on in hope of a bright future.

After a very long trip, we finally arrived to Saudi Arabia. Once outside, the heat and humidity greeted us. I felt appalled by them. We took a taxi to our new home. I stared out the window in confusion; everything was so different; the trees, the buildings... It was a whole new world; one that differed entirely from the one I was accustomed to. Once at our house, one of my father's friends sent us dinner. The food was different from the food I was used to, but it tasted good. My family and I enjoyed our first meal in our new house.

Maybe this place isn't going to be as bad as I expected it to be, I thought once in bed. Maybe there's hope.

***

The next week, I went to school. Many other differences greeted me there. For starters, I was alone, friendless. This was new to me and uncomfortable. Back in the United States, I used to have many friends. Here, I felt ignored, left back. I wasn't Aicha anymore. I was just one of the students.

The classes weren't any better. Back in my old school, everything was rather easy and taught in English. But here, everything was taught in Arabic. Not only that, but the teachers used the Saudi dialect, which I did not fathom at all.

Once home, I told my parents everything. I told them all about not having friends and not understanding my subjects. My father looked me in the eyes and said: "Aicha, I know this is hard, but life changes and, to survive, we have no choice but to accept it, handle it and move on". I had faith in my father and so embraced his words.

My father didn't only preach me about having to work hard to adjust and succeed both socially and academically, but he also gave me the means to do so. Along with my mother, he organized dinners with family friends who had children my age. He helped me learn my subjects in Arabic. He spent hours, on a daily basis, tutoring me in the subjects that I needed the most help in.

Eventually, I grasped the material and was able to learn on my own. I also made new friends, both in school and in the family gatherings. Nevertheless, I still missed Maliha. I missed our times together in school and our phone calls. I hated not being able to see her anymore and being out of touch with her.

***

One week-end, my family decided to go grocery shopping together. As we entered the front doors of the supermarket, I was extremely shocked to see, out of all the people in the world, Maliha, my best friend. I was overwhelmed with a plethora of emotions: disbelief, happiness, extreme joy and more happiness. I felt like yelling to the world that I'd found my best friend. I felt like jumping around in indescribable joy. My family was also overjoyed. They chatted and exchanged phone numbers with Maliha's family.

My father was right. Things do turn out for the best, if one just has enough patience. My father helped me believe that anything is possible if we keep our hopes high. His advice and guidance have helped me throughout my life. My excessive fear of leaving my home and friends in the United States to a new home and to unknown people in Saudi Arabia was like fog; it obstructed my view, it prevented me from seeing the deeper meanings in life and from believing that with patience, everything gets fixed. My father had a great role in clearing that fog, in allowing me to see the world clearly and embracing its changes.

My father taught me to hope for the best and believe that it will happen.

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My Father - My Hero

By: Aisha Elallam

I love my father. Well, I love my mother as well but this is about my father.

You normally see young children arguing about their father and how that their father is the best father in the world, this is how it goes:   
Girl: you know my father is the best father ever; he bought me a pink ice-cream yesterday.

Boy: NO, MY father is the best father ever; he can buy me everything I want, even a rainbow ice-cream.

Girl: that is not true; my father is the best and will always be the best...he can buy me a castle with a huge fridge with hundreds of rainbow ice-creams in it, which makes me a princess.

Boy: no, my father......

(These children are probably 4 years old, their argument might never stop).

Anyways, in my opinion; all fathers are the best fathers in the world, they all work hard and do the best they can to make their children live a happy and comfortable life. I think my father is amazing too; he is a man of many talents and that's what I like most about him. He can solve people's problems no matter how big it is. Not only his family's problems but also his friends and maybe the friends of his friend's problems (maybe I'm exaggerating a bit). He rescues the smallest of situations and emerges as a hero (just like superman), like once my brothers were playing football in the cornice with a new ball, when accidently he kicked the ball so hard it landed in the bay where it went floating further and further away, just when we thought that we'll never get it back my father emerged with the ball on his hand, it turned out that he rented a boat and fetched it back for us. Thank you dad!

I won't forget the day my father saved me from a very bad situation. It was in the airport and we were going on two continuous flights. The first flight was long and tiresome and after landing my mom gave me a very important bag to carry (she probably shouldn't have done that). While we were in the escalator I laid the bag down to rest a bit, somehow my mind wasn't with me and the bag remained forgotten while I went on to the next flight. When I sat on my seat I remembered the bag I forgot, and at that moment my mom said "Aisha, where is that bag I gave you" and I was like "I don't know". I knew that bag was important (for the baby), I was scared to death. At that moment I saw my father get out of his seat to talk to the hostess who called security, I knew what he was going to do, SAVE ME. Thank god after 10 minutes he came back WITH THE BAG, what a relief, he actually stopped the flight to get this silly bag that contains baby diapers.

My hero!

My father usually calls me daughter, like 'daughter, come here' or 'out of the way daughters'...which I think is funny sometimes, in fact the only time when he call me by my name is when I'm far away from him or out of sight. That's not really a good thing when were in the mall though. Speaking of the mall, that's a place where my father does not enjoy. Every time we go to the mall with my family, my father walks a mile further from us like a man without children, he expects us to follow him where ever he goes. In the end, unfortunately he gets scolded by my mother telling him how he's with his family and should walk WITH them, she mostly says "your children are running north, east, south and west and I'm trying to keep them still by MY SELF, a little help here please" (that mostly happens when the little ones wander around...after that he hangs around for 5 minutes then speeds off again. You go dad.

The only time my mother loves to take my father shopping is when we go buying abayas. He knows how to haggle for things, here is how it goes:

Seller: sir, this abaya is 900 riyals.

Dad: why 900, it's just an abaya.

Seller: special offer is 750.

Dad; make it 500.

Seller: 645.

Dad: 450.

Seller:   
Dad: what's wrong? Cat got your tongue!

Seller: sorry sir, last price 555.

Dad: I'll take it for 435.

Seller: that's not possible sir, this abaya is high quality...and...

(In the end my father normally wins, that what I call 'getting your way')

Sometimes my father goes over the top when trying to get his way. That happened once when my brother wanted to ride in this roller coaster and he was only seven at that time while the minimum age for riding that roller coaster was 10+. My father couldn't bear seeing he's first child cry so hard (this happened before none of us were born) so he had a word with the person responsible, here is how it went:

Dad: excuse me sir, why won't you let my child ride?

Man: sorry sir but this ride is for children aged 10+.

Dad: says who?

Man: the law!

Dad: I'm the one making the law here, so you let my child in now!

(In the end my brother DIDN'T ride because the "law is the law", see what I mean)!

There is a lot more I'd like to say about my father (I didn't mention that he was a serious person that treats small children like adults, sometimes) but this is a brief explanation about how unique fathers are and I wish you too understand this because not everyone has a father. It takes more than a man to be a father.

Thank you dad, for everything you have done to make me happy!

In the end, a father is an important person to the community, it's his job to take care of his family and other things, and in fact it's more than a job, its being a father.

My father thought me, to be brave, courageous and to never give up. To keep moving forward even though you feel lonely and afraid, to face your fears and to try and try again until you succeed. To always do your best and to be kind to others, to see everyone as a special person because they really are (I'm sure the very person reading this now is special) and to treat people equally. Even if life doesn't go the way you want, you should still try to make the best of it, because after all life can be sour and sweet. You mustn't also forget that everyone has feelings and emotions of his own, no matter how old, no matter how young, you must always consider it, (my father didn't actually tell me this stuff but by watching him I learned it from him, the way he faces situations, the way he faces life... you can learn a lot just by just watching something, you know?).

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..........

If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

............
My Father – My Buddy

By: Ali Kazwini

Children learn first from their parents as they grow up. Parents have a huge influence on their kids. In this article I will write about my dad and how I see him. There's time when you know your dad for real when you are in need of him. There's time when you want to see more of him the way you need as a kid.

By the way, my name is Ali Kazwini, age 11, born in 1999 on the 4th of February. My Family is from Iraq, an Arabic country; we know English because we used to live in Australia for 12 years. I was born in Sydney.

Hadi Kazwini is my dad. I love him because he cares a lot about me. Although he works all day to provide my family with good life-style he helps me with my education and homework, he offers advice and a helping hand to all who need it. He takes care of my education and future study when I get older. He provided me with many things that are available to me at home; I have lots of games, a laptop for me alone.

He is a wise person and a successful engineer. When I grow up I want to be like my dad, but with less stress compared to his. Also, I would like see my kids do well in their education and not only playing around. I want my kids to love their studies; yes, to have fun most of the time that's great, but also disciplined and kind to others. I want to be kind to everyone all the time, to never shout at my kids no matter what they do so that they are not afraid of telling me anything.

In some ways I want to be exactly like my father because he knows a lot of things. He helps his children with that knowledge and I realized that I must do the same to assist my children with their needs, homework, that could be too complicated for them to understand.

I remember, a few years ago that my dad took the family to Paris! Can you believe it!? It was like... amazing, especially at night when all the buildings flashed with brilliant lights at night, real fun, when he dragged us to look at every single nook and cranny in the city.

The restaurants were practically overflowing with French toast and coffee for breakfast; you usually only went there to have breakfast anyway so it's not surprising.

My father also took us to Italy and let me tell you, the food, hospitality and friendliness went scoring 10 / 10 for me, just exquisite, but I wouldn't be surprised if I were you; my dad bought me a cap for 20 Euros, which is a lot for an object like that.

Yes, my dad is a hard worker. He travels a lot – just doing business and going to meetings – and he is so lucky because he actually gets to see the world a lot – just doing business and going to meetings – and is so lucky, he gets to see the world and I've seen only a few countries.

It's really the greatest gift I can ask for, my dad has a kind heart; he always wants the family to be happy and takes it to cinemas, driving in the desert and to the beaches. If it's a holiday, he takes us every day, I always get tired early on our trips, maybe it's because it's continuous.

My dad I love, and cherish too in two's,

But sometimes when I'm sad, I think oh, what a flooze. (old fashioned)

He works really hard, he barely sleeps,

For he is my dad, and I hate when he gets beeps.

He's travelled far, he's seen the world.

I'm just sitting here; I've never seen a pearl.

I write this now, to tell you so,

That my dad and I are now toe to toe.

By that I mean, that we are well,

And that I will wish no more from a wishing well.

It seems pointless to ignore it now but I and my dad are buddies even now.

Even though the tides rise up and down.

I will take care of my father's crown,

I will soon be the heir of that malicious fighting frown.

I will rule that kingdom soon,

It's been a long time since I was fed with a spoon,

Because back then, my father thought I was a balloon.

This is a poem I came up with to give a simple idea of what I think of my father. Soon one day; I will follow the path my father has taken, to be a successful man / father who leads a great life and I just wish I can be as intelligent as him, that will be my objective in life, to have enough intellect to help my children with their education as my father has to me.

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Daddy – I Miss You

By: Almas Bano

Daddy,

Life is strange

Without you

Your little instructions Care, support and guidance

Put together

Made big things possible.

As children we

Created our own - illusionary world

Of tooth fairy - fancies - Ghost

You played along

Whereas with absolute certainty

You knew none existed

As teen's

We hung up

On what we didn't agree,

Soon to realise

Our differences

Made life interesting.

I still recall

You telling me

Step into my shoes and olive green uniform

Inherit all my medals

On your chest

Which I did gather

On my own merit

From Lieutenant to Colonel

But you slipped away

Into heaven's door

Then a time

Had arrived

When you had to give me

Away as a bride

To a life of new beginnings

But I knew that like everyone

My fate had come that day

To leave my parents household

Where since my childhood I had stayed.

No one knew my sorrows

Heartbreaks that

I felt – except you.

With a lump in your throat,

Withholding tears,

And yet a smiling face.

Only I could feel your pain

As you bid farewell to a sobbing bride/daughter.

I MISS YOU.

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My Just Father

By: Almuhallab Yaqoob Hamad Al Harthy

My Father, Yaqoob Hamed Al Harthy, told me stories about his past and his childhood, how he grew up and became a man who took responsibility for his own actions, and he told me about his own father (my grandfather).

My father is not educated; he went to a Madrassa (Qur'an school) where he learned how to read and speak proper Arabic. He was raised by religious parents and family. They used to hit him when he was a kid because that is how my grandparents' parents used to raise them. My father hated violence even in times of war. My grandparents were not rich or poor; they were middle-class people but had a good name among the people and the village they lived in. They earned their reputation by fighting in the war during a time of trouble in Oman, and I still wonder how my father didn't like violence.

When he was 17 or 18 he got married while still a teenager, but teenagers at that time were men, they went to war, and fed their families. When my father was 18, he was blessed to have my 1st brother, but he had to expand his business because he already had a farm that he worked with workers. To expand and to improve his business range, he went to Yemen. He finished the deal when he was 19.

When he was 19 he was blessed to have my oldest brother Yousef who helped him in his business when he grew up. He was my father's right hand man because my father needed people he could trust in his business. He started his business in Muscat when he was in his 30s, and he lived there with his family. When he was in his 50s he married my mother, his second wife. He did not get divorced, in my religion, Islam; a man can marry 4 women if he can financially support them and if he can be fair to all of them. I am the oldest child from his 2nd wife. My family members say that he loves me the most which makes me very happy and makes me feel special.

My father was not the strongest man in the world, nor could he pull a car with one finger like my other friends used to brag about their parents when they were children. However, my father is the wisest man I have ever met; he played two roles in my life. First he is the father who cared about me and advised me, and he is the one who helped me to walk on the righteous path. He played the role of my grandfather too. He is 70 years old now. He tells me stories about his past. My father was like my grandfather, because I was born with no grandparents, they all passed away, and no one can replace them. Somehow I believe that he knows that he's playing the grandfather role, and I understand that it's hard to play two characters with people you know, especially your family.

Like I said earlier, my father hates violence, which is why he rarely punished me by hitting me because he understands how it feels when your parents hit you. It scares you mentally. I understand that my father was different than his grandparents, rather than copying his parents and using violence, he understands what it does. My father always told me that violence causes violence and that fighting is your last choice. If someone bullies you, stop him, but don't overdo it. Treat people like you want to be treated. If you bully people, or mistreat them, they won't respect you, they will fear you, and hate you inside their heart. The one thing my father told me that I will never forget is that family comes first, because they will never betray you. Friends on the other hand are not always with you unless you have similar personalities. My father told me that shouldn't trust someone blindly unless you're ready to take a bullet for him, or die for him.

I went to the best schools because of my father and his interest in my education. He cares about my education, my behaviour, and my future. I am in QLA (Qatar leadership academy) now because my father sent me here so I can be a better person, a leader, and more organized. I miss father, last time I saw him was a month ago. I'm just lost without him, even when you are 16; you still need your father to help you with life choices. Fathers have more experience in life than their children.

Me and my friends were chatting and joking about life, suddenly one of my friends, after he had an argument with his father on the phone, asked us: "if you and your father were drowning in the middle of the ocean, and you can swim but your father can't, and if you save him, you're going to die, and he will survive and if you didn't save him and watched him dying, you will survive. Will you save your father?" Me and my friends were 6, two of them said without thinking: I'm saving my father! The other 2 said: I'm saving my soul. I was thinking, me and the friend who asked the question and both of us in the same time that we are going to save ourselves. I found the people who said that they want to save their father to be naïve.

Now my answer would be different, I would save my father, I would die for him, because I owe him too much, that I can't repay him even if I tried all of my life. He inspires me, he feeds me, he cares about me, and he loves me, I can't ask for more. I would like to apologize to my father for every wrong thing I've done, I am sorry. I will grow up and be like you, father, a great, loving caring person who cares about his family and especially his children. We are our father's responsibility, not just any person can handle this responsibility, only a real man and a real father can do it.

I found the right path, and the right answer for my friend's question because of writing this essay. While I was writing this essay, I've mentioned everything my father did to me, I was thinking deeply to write this essay and I realized that I couldn't dream of having a better father, because I already have the best, so thank you father.

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My Father – My Partner

By Amna Al-Jaber

I remember about a trip to Dubai in 2008 when I was 8 years old; I travelled with my father, my cousins and my brothers. I don't have a sister. I really hope that I had a sister, because every where around me, boys seem to have sisters, except me.

While in Dubai, we were invited for a party for one of my cousins called Jawaher. My father came with me to the party though he was sick. He would have avoided it, but since I started crying, he agreed to go with me.

The place was filled with my cousin's friends and other people whom she loves. Since I had not seen all my cousins for over three years, I was really happy to go to the party. At the party we started playing various games. When we were playing, there was a girl who has just arrived. My father went to her and told her "Go and play with them and have some fun." The girl refused saying that she did not want to play, and my father tried to convince her since otherwise she would not have any fun.

There was a woman, who was arranging the games for the children and she called us to play a game that involved kicking the ball. However to play, we needed a partner. Everyone had a partner, either their siblings or their friends, but I was all alone and had no partner. The lady apologized to me saying that if I did not have a partner then I could not play. This made me very sad.

I went under the table and started to cry in a low voice and stayed there for some time. After a while my father started looking for me and calling out 'Amna Amna' I didn't reply. No one else seemed to notice that I was not to be seen, nor did they care for me. I was disappointed, and scared - scared because I was alone under the table. When I heard my dad call for me, I remembered that he had come to the party only for me and how he wanted me to play in all the games and be the winner – which made him immensely proud of me. When he found me under the table, I was crying and saying that I hated everyone and that I wanted to die.

When my dad found me he said 'Oh you are here thank God you are here', and he hugged me and kissed me. He asked me why I was under the table and why I was crying. I hugged him and I told him "I don't have a partner and almost all the games needed a partner, so I can not play." He said "I'll be your partner." When my dad told me that, I became so happy because then all my cousins would be jealous, because their fathers didn't play with them. Seeing my father playing with me everyone started calling their father or their mother to come and play with them. But all of them were busy talking about the party and other gossip.

While everyone was giving Jawaher her presents, they were kissing her and talking to her parents and saying how lucky she was, that her parents would arrange a huge party like this. Finally when the parents decided to go home, they did not care that their children were crying since they wanted to play more time. They were also crying because their parents were not playing with them, but mine was.

I continued to play with my father for some more time and then we started singing and dancing. This was the best day for me and my father, because I was proud of my father and my father was proud of me.

Later I told everyone about this party, and that my father is the most important person in my life because, I tell him everything and he tells me everything, he is like my friend not my father.

I want to tell my father that I am sorry if I have done anything wrong that made him sad. I'll do everything that will keep him happy and make him proud of me.

I love you so much because you are my partner, my friend, and my everything.

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Unforgettable Moments

By: Amritha Rajan

Gazing upon the glistening stars in the moonlit sky was one of my favourite hobbies. And today these stars looked exceptionally beautiful. They seemed to get in right in through my heart making me experience the joy of a thousand splendid suns. Looking at them reminds me of that shining star due to whom I am who I am. My father, who is a bright shining example and a happy twinkling in my heart, the star to which I would dedicate all what I have achieved.

It was the fourteenth of October, 1996. The sun was setting in the west, a mysterious fog spread in blue yonder marking the advent of something special to everyone, especially to my dad. I was born to this world and he was the happiest person ever seen. A little girl had always been his dream because he was one person who liked to buy ornaments, frocks, accessories etc. Lucky Me!

From then he has always held a guiding hand on my shoulder and has helped me through all my troubles. My mother recollects of me, holding my dad's hand and taking my first step as he stood like a guardian angel beside me. I also remember my mother telling me about how he used to wait for evenings to be backing home, to see me and also how his colleagues used to be quite jealous seeing how much he cared about his little princess. She also recollected the days when I was sick and how he used to spend sleepless nights taking care of me. He was also the one who taught me my first alphabet "A". I still keep in mind the memory of him holding my hand, helping me to write it.

Another instance was my first day to school and I remember standing in front of the mirror admiring my nice, new uniform. My mother being a teacher used to go by bus but my dad didn't allow me to. No matter how busy he was, he still dropped me to school in his car. And to his surprise, I did not cry like the other children! I was really happy and anxious to visit my new class, teachers, friends and school. He still has the feeling that, it was all because of his prayers that I didn't cry.

I also recollect the time when I came first in class and the happiness on his face, when I had the report card with rank 1 in one hand and the trophy in the other. He was so happy that his happiness could not be expressed in words and I still treasure the gift he gave me at this joyous occasion- my first Barbie doll.

Then comes the time when I went for swimming. I was really scared about learning how to swim just like any other little child, considering that I was only six. I was so scared that all my hair was standing up when I got into the icy cold water. I badly wanted to get back on shore but he didn't allow me to and made me do a few strokes in the water. And soon, I had learnt all of it. I never knew that swimming was so much fun, considering how much I hated it before. And this was just the beginning of enjoyment.

Another incident which is remembered not only by me but by everyone in my family is the day I plucked my first tooth. The doctor was a very cheerful person with a bright smile on his face but the moment I saw the tools in his hand, I was terrified. I started screaming, got up from the seat and fled from the place. My mother was really upset but my father controlled himself and consoled me telling that it won't pain and took me slowly to the doctor's room. I closed my eyes and sat but I didn't experience much pain maybe it was due to his prayers for me. After that, I wasn't very scared about going to the doctor.

The next on the list is reading. When I was small, I had never taken much interest in reading books; if I got a book I would read it and then forget about it. But it was he who introduced me to Harry potter and since then I have been living in a world of books. This book had taken me on such an amazing magical adventure that I still remember each and every small detail in it. After that, I have read such a lot of books that I don't even know how many. And all of them have taken me on different adventures. It is almost like sitting at home and going around the world and all these journeys are due to my dad.

Another happening is "The Walk to Remember". This is something which has deeply influenced me in a lot of ways. One day we had gone for an evening walk. My mother had a headache and therefore she didn't come and my brother was sleeping at home, so he also was not present. I had badly wanted to go, so my dad had taken me. We had gone to 'The Adhari' which was a park near my house. We had a nice long chat while we were walking and he talked about all the problems which I created at home and how he expected me to be more responsible. He said that I must also help my mother rather than always read a book or study. He also said that "In helping others, we help ourselves for whatever good we do comes back to us". This persuaded me to do things for the well-being of others and he also indirectly encouraged me to carry out intelligent reading and learn new things including quotes by legendaries. The reason I know about everything around me is due to him. He is the best teacher I ever had, the teacher who has influenced me and changed my life and I hope that I will be able to fulfil all his dreams and wishes.

He is indeed the greatest gift from God and that is why I call him "Dad".

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My Inspirational Father

By: Anagha Chakravarthi

I was getting late for my friend's birthday party. The car also had to break down on the same day. And I was standing on the footpath waiting for some generous person to give me a lift. Bangalore was not a safe place for a teenage girl standing alone at night. I shuddered at the thought. When I had lost all hopes, a car came by and stopped in front of me. A woman put her head out and asked me to join her. I was astonished by her utmost generosity. After instructing the driver where to go we sat in the car which was in the midst of a vast traffic jam. I thanked her with all my heart. 'Why are you going towards M.G. road at this time of the day? And you don't even look quite old." she stated. 'Yeah, I actually am going for my friend's party.' And when I fired the same question to her, she said, "Book signing event.' 'Oh you are a writer? Have I heard of you?' It sounded so stupid. I bet she was about to say how do I know. But she replied, yes! This is my debut novel. It is called 'A Father's Contribution.' To my astonishment, that was what I was giving my friend for her birthday. When she had the knowledge of this, she asked me if I had read it. I replied, 'Ummm... No, but the reviews were great.' Her expression turned glum. To make her feel better, I said 'Why don't you tell me the summary of the story? Her face lit up and said, 'Okay! But, as long as you don't get bored.' I replied: 'Of course not.' With that she took out a thin book with a bright binding and opened a particular page and started reading. I smiled; I couldn't have a beautiful woman with a glum expression sitting next to me for the whole journey. 'The story is about a girl called Jo. She thinks her life is perfect until one day when God sends someone to make it more perfect. Not technically, but you get the idea, don't you?' I chuckled and nodded. Then she continued her interesting story.

The story starts off on a normal day or that's how it seemed to Jo. A man was walking towards her with a twelve inch knife laughing without humour. She knew this was the end, so she bid goodbye to herself as she felt the tip of the knife on her belly. She woke up clutching her chest. Gasping for air, she started breathing fast. After a few minutes, she was sure that it was a nightmare. And soon realizing that she was howling, she tried to stop it but forgot how to control her voice. She clamped her hands on her mouth which helped. But unfortunately it was too late as she heard her mother's casual footwear barging towards her room. She pulled on her covers and exaggerated on her breathing. 'God knows when you are going to get rid of your nightmares. Stop reading those vampire books', she added. 'Jo, seriously, I think you need to see someone about these nightmares. This can't persist for long', said her mother suddenly sounding serious. 'I'll be fine', she muttered getting up to get ready for school. Her mother just sighed and left the room. One of the worst things about her mother was that she grumbled a lot. The main intent was to make Jo feel guilty. But how was Jo going to feel guilty? That was an understatement.

She swiftly moved the toothbrush across her teeth. Her teeth were the worst part of her face. All of them looked like a hairpin bend. But that made her unique. After a quick shower she put on her blue school uniform and yanked the hairbrush through her hair which looked like a neat haystack. She tied her impossible hair into a high ponytail and headed for the hall. She bid goodbye to her parents adding a suspicious glance to her father who hadn't said anything about her screaming. Strange, she said to herself. Pushing that thought away from her mind, she made her way to the school.

'Hey Cathy!' she said entering her classroom. Cathy smiled and said, 'How was Mr. Earnshaw today?' Mr. Earnshaw was the usual visitor of Jo's nightmares. After narrating my nightmare to her which was a part of her daily routine, she sat on her seat as the teacher came in. She usually slept open eyed in the class. People loved listening to her nightmares. They said she was very creative. She couldn't help sniggering at that and earned a stern glance from the teacher. Slowly, the day passed and she went straight to badminton practice. She was surprised to find her dad missing when she reached home. He was usually home before her. She doubted that he might have had an important meeting. An enquiry with her mother confirmed her doubts. I was surprised that she stopped. The story had captured my attention. It wasn't as boring as I thought. 'Now I'll start off with the most important chapter.' she said sounding like a kid who got a box of candies. "Days passed and she never heard her dad speak. He was working at the office or he locked himself in the room. He rarely spoke. She tried getting him into a conversation but he wittily sent her away. He was acting peculiar. And that day wasn't the first time she had shrieked in her sleep. So she usually spent her time in the Bangalore Games Association with Jo. She had become very quiet in the course of time as her father was her constant companion at all times.

One day when she returned from her games practice she dozed off without her knowledge. She heard someone knocking on her door and furiously turning the knob. She reluctantly went and opened the door and received a sharp blow from her mother. As she was half asleep, she couldn't make any sense of her words. That was the first day she did not have a nightmare. After she was sure that she wouldn't doze off again, she went and started doing her homework. Then her father came into her room and sat down next to her. Her expression was unreadable. She started shooting questions at him about his peculiar activity. He easily dodged all of them. 'This was bad. He wanted to talk.' thought she. She was sure it was about her so called dreams. Was that why he acted so peculiar? She shyly smiled and went back to her sums. But she was sure that her expression was horrible. A suspicious face with a shy smile! A cartoon. 'We need to talk', he said. Exactly the prelude she had been expecting. She put away her homework and said, 'Yes, dad?' like a good girl. 'See Jo, I know you hate talking about this but I promise this will be the last one.' This was a first. She was relieved to know that this would be the last one but this confirmed her doubts about his absence from the normal world. She nodded with a glum expression 'I have been analyzing these nightmares and I have come up with one last theory.' She stared at him. How can a person be so creative? That was about the thirtieth one. He continued, 'I know that you don't believe that you are creative. But let's face it, you are.' She had to interrupt to this,' No dad, please' but he didn't let her stop him. 'Let me finish, please.' he said, suddenly sounding stern. 'I suggest you to write down these things, Jo. These things can be very helpful. Nightmares were the starting of my career. You might not want to become a writer but at least you can try.' He almost sounded pleading. She just nodded. 'Promise me that you will try that.' 'What's the matter in trying?' she thought. 'Yes, Dad! I will, as long as this was the last talk about....' She said narrowing her eyes. Her father's face lit up like a child. As if Christmas had come soon and said, 'I swear this was the last one.' and he went straight out her room. Instead of putting it aside and going back to her homework, she sat thinking about what he had said. She decided to try it out. She took a sheet of paper from the drawer next to her and started writing. She decided to take a few more days and make it more creative.

After a few weeks when it was finally over and ready, she handed it to her dad and she swore that she had never seen him so happy. Happy that she had no more worries in life except her mother's grumbling, she went back to her normal life with a pleasant mood.

The memory of her first piece of writing had almost faded away. Her life was perfect. But on one beautiful weekend when Mr. Earnshaw was strangling her to death, she felt someone shaking her and was surprised to see her father. 'I am not coming for breakfast.' She said involuntarily. They usually went out for breakfast on weekends. But she simply hated to be bothered on a lovely holiday when she could sleep. But to her astonishment, he handed her the newspaper and asked her to read it. 'Dad, please I want to sleep....' But unable to withstand his torment she gave up and took the paper from his hands and read it. He hastily tapped his forefinger on an article. She started to read it. After reading a few sentences, she sensed its familiarity. Wrinkling her forehead she tried to remember where she had read it. And with a flash she remembered that it was that piece of work which she had written. How did it land in the newspaper? Then, when she got her mind working, she realized this was all because of my dad. Tears welled up in her eyes and she gave him a tight hug. That was one of the finest days of her life. Her father's contribution. Her inspiration. This might be the end of the story but the starting of her life. Her life which included writing and immense love for her father...........''

By the time she had finished narrating the story or rather, summary, I found myself in tears. She looked overjoyed at my overflow of emotions. But soon realizing that we had reached my destination, I gathered my things and said, 'It was a wonderful story. My friend can go without a gift.' I said with a wink. She chuckled. I decided that there must be some good parting words with a great author and said, 'I wish I had a nice father like yours.' To that she smiled and said, 'Be happy, at least you have one.' With that the driver zoomed off.

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..........

If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

............

Vantage Point

By: Ann Jacob

If I were given an option to swap my dad with anyone in this planet for a day, I can probably choose a movie star or a punk rocker or a billionaire. Imagining the endless possibilities makes me dizzy. But the truth is that I can never bring myself up to do this. No matter how strong the allure is of a better dad, I would rather accept my dad the way he is. No one can replace my dad, even if the other is by far a better candidate because we are united by a common bond – love, which will always remain intact.

My father has always been my fortress. This conviction was etched deep in my mind, since I was a baby, despite of my childish ignorance. I would like to share this small incident which imbued in me this belief. When I was three, I got to switch from my crib and was assigned a bed for myself. Taking into account of my age, the bed was positioned alongside my parents'. From the minimal distance separating us, I could always stretch out my hand to grasp my father's, who lay at the edge. Having a slight phobia of falling, I had required at least a finger to pacify me. I used to clutch his fingers as though it was a life preserver, viciously till I used to drift into a peaceful unconsciousness. This must have instilled in me the picture of my father as a safe harbour.

This blind faith has sustained me throughout all these years. My father would always be there for me, binding me to the earth like the string of a helium-filled balloon.

As my mother recollects a bit jealously yet fondly, the first syllable or rather word that I had learnt to speak coherently was 'Pa'.

My dad used to bring home catalogues of clothes from his workplace. As a child then, my favourite pastime was sprawling on the floor with these and peering contentedly at the models. Though this is not generally the first material given to a baby for developing an interest in learning, this unusual action propelled me into the world of fairytales, sooner than what the normal children take to do so. That was when I did know the alphabet. Today, I firmly believe that if my dad had not taken such an incentive, I would have never read the encyclopaedias he had stacked our shelves with.

My dad also taught me an important virtue – patience. As a very aggressive child, I barely gave heed to what others used to say. My preferred method of getting what I wanted, was torturing somebody to the verge of helpless desperation as they can neither ward me off nor punish me. Most of the people I could recognize were victimized by my heartless antics but my dad was determined to refuse my demands when it was way out of hand. Even if I threw a tantrum or reacted violently, sinking my incisors into his flesh or sobbed in a manner where I would melt the hardest of hearts, he did not surrender. He was unwavering in his decision. He had taken a resolution that he would take me one day and now, I can say I am a reasonably good listener.

Among many things that he had played mentor yet again was when he urged me to be sincere in my work and stick to a fair game. He taught me to own up honestly when I made a mistake and never trace a path of deceit through my life.

This is one of the most prime of life lessons and advices imparted to me. My father stressed upon the need to emit an aura of positivity. He insisted that I never deter anyone with a misanthropic lease on life and that I always look at the sunny side of things. His doctrine is that everything that happens does so for a reason and God has a particular plan for us, which is not for our annihilation but one for our salvation. He told me that I should have the courage to handle every obstacle that destiny tosses at me and I must always have an affirmative outlook on life.

He told me that I should assist the others in every circumstance I can and that I never lead anyone astray.

My dad stated that nothing is impossible if I exert myself. This is perhaps the experience where I can really bear testimony that my father was correct. When I joined primary school after a nondescript spell at the kindergarten, I was unable to communicate with anyone due to lack of confidence and an inferiority complex. I could not understand anyone in the class, whether be it the teacher or my schoolmates due to my crippling weakness in understanding English. There were times I used to break down because I was so depressed, and during each one of these crying jags, my dad used to console me and tell me that if I passionately work towards my aim, I would certainly improve. Just as always, innocently trusting my dad's promise and without looking back, I did. Now, I can look at anyone straight in the eye and say that my dad was the compass that guided me and made me what I am today.

My dad has been more than a parent to me. He was also a mentor and a friend. My life would be a void if it did not have someone like my father in it. He stands out from the sea of analogous faces as an epitome of all virtues he wants me to acquire. He is a humble, altruistic, brave and restful person who has a large heart. He inspires people to live their dream wherever he goes. He has done what was best for me and has sacrificed himself countless number of times to keep me happy. Once I intercept his corrections, I can confirm that I have never repeated those errors. I am proud of him and venture to declare that he is the sun around which the rest of the family revolves. A few insufficient words that are printed are never enough to extol his wisdom and efforts, because he is beyond what I can rhapsodize but I have to try.

He is the most ingenious man I have met till now and I am indebted to him. He will live forever in my heart.

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My Father – My Teacher

By: Ariq Effendi

My father is the man who always works hard for me...for everyone in my family. My father works as an engineer for a living. I was born on the 10th June 1998. There was a riot at Indonesia that time, so my father and my mother were picked up by the army getting them to safety. Then a few years later the riots subsided, but it didn't actually stop. One night then, someone came into our house. My father noticed it because he heard a bottle breaking in the house; at that point he woke up and got suspicious that a thief may have come into our house. So he checked where the sound is coming from and that was in the kitchen. When he got into the kitchen the thief suddenly charged at him and stabbed him with a knife on his right chest, then he ran away with some of our households. When my father screamed in pain, my mother woke up and got my dad to the nearest hospital, on a motorbike. On the way he was losing too much blood. So he began to wipe and cover the wound with some tissue, until they reached the hospital. At the hospital, straight away the nurse sent him to the Emergency Room. In there his wounds were stitched by the doctor and the nurse. The doctor was my father's friend, so he gave us a discount on the hospital expenses. We didn't have much money that time; we were like a middle-class family back then. Thankfully my father was saved! But he had a real big mark on his right chest; it was reddish and pinkish coloured.

6 years later, when it was my birthday and also being my father's wage day, he told me if he gets his wage he would buy me a birthday cake and celebrate my birthday in my favourite restaurant, and I can choose any food or drink that I wanted. What a stroke of luck! I ordered sweet and sour chicken, ice tea and vanilla ice cream. That time I thought it was the best day of my life, and I really loved my father for his treat. After we finished eating we went back home, to open my presents that my father, my mother and my sister bought for me. Firstly my father bought me the toy robot that I've been always begging him for me to buy; my wish came true at last! When I saw the toy robot that he bought for me, I opened the robot and picked it up, and ran straight away to my father, gave him a big hug, and said thank you to him. Then I got a toy airplane from my mom and my sister. That time my father was like 28 years old.

The next day my father went to his university to collect his Engineering degree. I came with my driver and my mom after I finished school day to catch up my father's convocation ceremony. My sister didn't come because she was still in school. Thankfully we were right on time, my father was happy to see us. He was wearing his graduation suit and his graduation hat in the ceremony like everybody else. After the ceremony, when my father, my mother and me, were celebrating, the camera man came over and requested to take a family picture with my dad in his graduation suit and moved us to the photo area where they have special backgrounds. My father said I could choose any background I wanted, but he will judge if it's good or not. So I chose a regal blue colour, because blue was my favourite colour back then. I asked him if it's okay and he said it was fine. So when the photographer finished taking the picture and framed it, my father told me to keep the picture for myself so that when I grow up I won't forget him.

One year later on the 10th of September my father realized that he needs to get a better life for me and my family, a better future, so that I can get a better education too. He decided to resign from his present company, and move to a new company. When he moved to his new company, they said he will work as an engineer, in a different country which is Qatar; they said that they will pay for everything, including the plane tickets. They even offered to lend us a larger house in Qatar. My father thought about it and he took that job! But before he took that job, he asked the company whether his family would go with him to Qatar and the company said yes, and then he accepted that job.

The next day by the evening we arrived in Qatar. When he first went to the immigration, he didn't understand what the lady in the immigration was saying. He didn't know much English, and he never knew how to speak Arabic! So someone helped my father because he was taking so long in the immigration. When we finally got out of the immigration, we went straight outside and took our private taxi which was arranged by my father's company and went to our hotel. The hotel room was also reserved for us by my father's company. When my father reached the hotel and got our hotel room, he straight away took a bath and then went to sleep. The next day my father said; that we need to get our visas done. But I didn't want to go, my father was angry because he had to wake me up 10 times, but I still didn't wake up. So he hit on my hand, and then I started to wake up, but I was crying because he hit me and I was in pain.

Fathers do this because they want to teach us lessons of what's good and what's bad for us. Thank you for teaching me father. I LOVE YOU MY FATHER. Back to Contents Page
My Generous Father

By: Armand Mazalan

My father, Mr. Mazalan Baharudin is a hard-working, loving, happy and special man. He was born in Malaysia, where he had a rough time going to school. He always got to school and back home by using a bus and sometimes on foot. My father and my mother were married after they graduated from college/university. My father was a son of head of police. He worked very hard to go to college and graduate. My father was worried about what will happen if he didn't pass so he kept on thinking about his future.

He cared about his kids and his family in the future. My father always read magazines, newspapers and story books. He always liked to make models of cars by using ice cream sticks, old boxes and broken wood. My father is always creative and useful to make things out of items that were thrown away, to make good use of it. He was concentrating on getting on a higher grade and to make a bright future. He always dreamt of getting a Porsche. Though he gets to drive it, he never owned one. He wanted to have a good life, a good wife, good days and a good family. He lived in a scanty house. His daily allowance was 50 cents. He bought food for 50 cents and studied very hard to make his future better.

When I moved to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, I was 9 years old. That's the time as I remember I went to cycle with my father. We were spending a whole afternoon cycling. Suddenly I fell down into the drain and I was 3 metres down from the ground. My father asked for help but no one was there because all the fire-fighters were on holiday. So my father rescued me from the sewer. There was another time, when I went to the badminton tournament; I practiced with my father to win the badminton tournament. I was so determined to win but my father told me this 'win or lose, you will always number me'. I decided trying all of my abilities to win this tournament and make my father happy. When time came, I was fully prepared to take them on. There were some tough opponents and some of them were very able. But I got the strength and I was good at smashing the shuttle. I was one of the school's three best players. It is because I was also very good at smashing and very good at drop shot.

When the tournament started, I was nervous but during the second time I wasn't. I won the first and second match. So I went on to my third match. I was playing doubles. For me playing doubles is hard to get smash as I'm always at the back. I felt my father's presence always there with me even though he was far away from me.

The most important out of all my memories is the one when my father saved me from my finger cut. It is because if that never happened I would have been in big trouble and loss of my grip when I carry things that are very heavy. But my father saved me anyway because he cared about my safety and my well-being.

I am also happy that I have a caring and wonderful father. Since the day I was born, my father had been taking care of me. When the accident happened, I was bleeding and I didn't know what to do. I told my father what has happened. That incident occurred because I slammed the door very hard and it hit my finger. My father was very worried. He ran to the car grabbing me at the same time. My father asked me to put a tissue on the top of my broken finger but it kept on bleeding. I felt sleepy in the car with a broken finger and it kept on bleeding. He told me 'to hang in there'. I can still feel the pain in my sleep. Then I can hear something roll. Then everything started to blur and then I woke up. Then it was fixed when I woke up. Since then my father was out of town for 1 year. My mom told me that he promised to keep in touch. I was still crying because I wasn't able to say sorry and thank you to my father. Everything he did was dream to me. That is one day that I never forget.

My father was so generous that he helped me in passing the entire tests because he was worried about my future. Being a father he is there responsible to achieve on what they want, as it's my future. My father is there very generous and responsible to help us and study along with us during the tests. When you are young they take good care of you. He raised, he gave you food and he gave you shelter.

My father told me that 'my safety goes first then others'. Mostly my father always wanted me to become a Chemical Engineer but I don't like to be a Chemical Engineer. I wanted to be an ICT engineer. My father always spent a lot of time with me when I was little. The only thing I can say to my father when I'm going to college/university is 'Thank you Mom and Dad for helping me make it this far'. I hope that I can spend time with you as long as I possibly can. I will also visit my father and my mother because they took good care of me when I was a child. I promise that when my father and my mother will get older, I will take care of them. I will also promise to my dad that I will work very hard too and prove to my dad that I am independent.

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He Found The Light In My Eyes...

By: Cindy Joycelyn Fernandes

"A father, in my opinion, is the one who holds your hand at the fair, makes sure you do what your mother says, caresses your forehead when you are sick, brushes your hair when it is tangled and when mother is too busy, lets you have ice-cream for breakfast but only when mother is away, and in the end, a person who will walk you down the aisle, all the while telling you everything is going to be okay."

Eighteen years ago in a hospital ward in Doha, a middle-aged man's wife was just taken into the delivery room and he was anxiously waiting outside in the waiting area with the other family members. Although this was going to be their fourth child he felt the same way he had when his wife was giving birth to the first three. The usual thoughts ran through his mind...how would the baby look, would it be a boy, forever up to tricks or a beautiful girl with pink bows, what would they name the newborn, would his wife agree on the name he chose...and so on; But he also was subconsciously praying that there would be no complications at birth. Finally, at around 2am on the 20th of December 1992, the serene and peaceful environment of the maternity ward was broken with the crying of a healthy little baby girl and the young man heaved a sigh of relief. He rushed to the nurse who appeared moments later with his beautiful bundle of joy; he picked her up with the nonstop rabble of baby talk and then looked for any resemblances to him. He then announced to everyone that the baby resembled him exactly with no mistake. The overjoyed father went to the room where his wife lay tired after the delivery yet equally overjoyed too, with the birth of their new born and together they named her "CINDY". A name that he had chosen and his wife had begun to love. And that is exactly how I became the apple of my father's eyes.

My father, whom I lovingly call "DADA" is a man known to everyone as stoic and never swayed by circumstances; but the day he set his eyes on me, his youngest daughter he had turned into the equivalent of human jelly. Being the youngest in my family, I undoubtedly have the history of keeping the entire house wrapped around my finger and this would have never been possible without my Dad. Since I was daddy's little girl I have never heard the word "no" and so eventually my dad and I have became the modern day version of Genie and Aladdin. All I had to do was ask for something in my fractured baby talk and my dad would take that as a command. As a little child I fancied things like toys and candy and as I grew up, the wish list kept getting longer. Even though my dad treated me like a princess by granting every wish of mine, he made sure that I was brought up the right way. We played and scampered all over the house, laughed over Tom and Jerry and even cried together when we were scolded by our discipline in charge, that is, my mom, for turning the house upside down. At night he would tuck me into bed with stories that he would make up in the spur of the moment where he would impersonate anyone from a poor wood cutter to powerful superman and in this way, he introduced me to astronomy, science and religion in small doses.

My dad became my true source of inspiration as I was growing up. He instilled into me the importance of being well educated and moreover, being well read about what is going on around the world. He never failed to remind me to read the newspaper and to join him while he watched the news on 6 different channels which I often was not quite agog to be a part of. However, when a teacher at school commented one day on how well-read I was on recent issues, I realized that it was not only good grades that can make you standout in a crowd; being well-read was also important, like my dad had advised. My dad has never failed to encourage, motivate and advise me every day of my life. Whenever I failed or felt low, he always comforted me by saying the most famous proverb, "Try, try, until you succeed". Keeping this in mind, I have achieved a lot in life, not only academically but also in other fields like, sports, music and public speaking. For a 63 year old, my dad remains hale and hearty to this day; by waking up every morning for a jog (he never misses his jog)! I never remember my father taking a "night out with the boys"; all he did was buy the groceries for my mother or spend time with the family.

The one thing I guess my siblings and I have inherited the most from my dad is his sense of style, not that my mother is anything less of a heroine herself...but dad at his age, he is quite cool, since he rides a sports bike and has an extraordinary liking to sport brands and jerseys. Being brought up with strong values about certain aspects of life, my dad always encouraged my sister and I to be dressed elegantly, as he says it gives others an insight to your personality...although sometimes my sister and I detested his taste of style, especially when we were not allowed to wear our "little black skirts for our kitty parties" and were turned back into our rooms to change.

Apart from all the things that I have bragged to you about my dad, the one thing that I have always wished to have is his self-control. Why I say this, is because my dad used to be a chain smoker and so it was no big secret that there were cigarette packets everywhere, right from washrooms to his desk drawer in the office and this habit of his used to really sadden and disappoint my mom to the extent that it started affecting their marriage and they began having arguments and fights almost every day. So, for the sake of his family and with the untiring effort of my mother he quit smoking some twelve years ago and has never looked back since then. Thus, setting an example to not only his children but youth all over that, where there is a will there is a way.

Apart from this, one thing I hate about my dad is his absent mindedness and his laid back attitude towards latest technology. He always asks me if I have seen his car keys, if I know how to use Internet on the mobile and so on. One day I asked him, 'Dada, why are you always asking me about where your things are and how to figure out the latest gadgets which come with your phone? Why can't you just figure it out yourself?' To which my dad replied, 'Before you came into this world, your mother and I had a tough time selecting a name for you, but the day I laid my eyes on you I decided that I would name you Cindy, because the meaning of your name is light in Greek and so you will continue to light up my life once my lamp starts dying out.' Keeping this in mind, I continue to help my dad use the internet or type a letter using the new Microsoft office layout and most importantly, I am his legal advisor for online security and "forgot your password" issues. Thus, I am only too happy for this exchange program to continue since as I get older my dad is getting younger!

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Sweet Memories of My Father.

By: Dan Varghese

I do have splendid memories of My Father who is no more alive. I am sure, many of my co-authors and my readers will agree with me that a father, whether a biological father or even a loving step father hold great importance for every individual because, their upbringing mainly depends on their fathers, in addition to mothers on equal footing. My story is unique to me, as is in the case of all others in my view, and that itself is the most credible point in remembering and appreciating for whatever I owe to my father.

Today I am a US citizen, but I was born and brought up in India, under the shadow and care of my father and mother who are no more in this world now. Like me, my father also had to migrate to a different place from his original place of birth which is a village in central Kerala-India, called 'Aranmula'. My father's name is Daniel, which he has added to mine, during my baptism at our local church and thereafter in the primary school where I was enrolled to begin my education.

My father was the third son to his parents in addition to two sisters. His mother passed away at a very early stage of his childhood thereby leaving the entire burden on his father. His father was a very pious and God-fearing man who would go unto the top of the nearby hill very early in the mornings to pray when the whole world is still asleep! My father used to tell me that his father had frequently heard the angels singing in the heaven; so much pious a person he was. As a matter of fact, in our astute generations, it is obviously difficult for simple people to run their families easily, which was the case with my father also. His only income was from whatever crops they received from a small land and that caused financial problems for him at all stages. Still, he managed his family with the support of his wife. We the children are testimonies for that.

I have two brothers and two sisters, a total five children to my father and mother. My Mother was very much a nice wife to my father who was always prepared to sacrifice anything to ensure that their children get the best what they could provide in spite of poverty and general scarcity. My father decided to leave the home and go to Madras, then a southern prosperous city in Tamil Nadu. He began to work with his younger brother running a small restaurant business and sent us money for our expenses. Later we also moved to Madras and continued our education in somewhat a better condition. My father ensured that his wife and children do not go hungry like many other families on those days in our surroundings.

I have pondered many times whether my father really loved his family or other poor people in the neighbourhood more, as I remember him helping anyone who approaches him for a support. This habit he kept up till the last day he was on the face of this earth and I take pride in telling this to the whole world. I have inherited this very nature of my father as a purpose for my life also and try to do whatever is possible to the needy, I meet and know.

Once again, my father thought he should move to the northern district of Malabar with his family where he could grab some land at cheaper and affordable price and settle down with his family. He did the same as his another brother did and they both became neighbours in a village called Nilambur in the Malapuram District of Kerala (Today it is a small town). The new 'land-lord' had to do all the jobs to make the land cultivable and prepare for plantation of rubber trees for a good future income, in which he did not succeed much though mainly because of topographic reasons. Another reason was that by then his children were grown up and began to earn their own livelihood and support parents. Here also he was able to help his neighbours as his financial standing was better now, and his practice of supporting the poor has increased in volume. After living a full life, finally he left this world a few years before, but by leaving a strong foot prints, as well as great memories in our minds. We can only count my father as a clean, soft spoken, helpful human being to whom we are indebted heavily.

There are several incidents I remember to have witnessed and unable to rub out from my memories because I consider my father an ambassador for the true God at all places we had been to. At Nilambur, when he found some people trespass his property to go to their homes in the rear side, due to lack of any approach road, he gave them a portion of his land free of cost for that purpose without any compensation in return.

Once a young man and his wife came to my home for some monetary help, as the woman needed a heart surgery soon. My father had no liquid cash to offer, but what he did was that he removed his wedding ring from his finger and gave it to the man saying he may pledge or sell it and get whatever money to help for the surgery on his wife. As a matter of fact, my father did not turn back anyone who approached him for support without doing whatever within his reach.

My father was too much a pious man like his father and donated everything every time for the church activities in addition to sizable amounts. It is truly commendable that my father never prayed for riches, or fame, but always prayed for strength to meet challenges in life and bear pains whatever comes! At last when he died at the age of 92 years, it was the community that wept with us; his wife and children in so much of agony for missing a kind and loving person for ever.

My memories of my father are as fresh as of yesterday, though I am also pretty old by now. I wish at least a few people will remember me for what path I followed in line with my dear father's, though I never come closer to him in my own assessment.

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My Miraculous Father

By: Dasa Riadi

My father is a great man. He works in Qatar Petroleum, which is quite a miracle to our family, since our family didn't get high salaries because Indonesian jobs are low paid. My mother began searching for jobs in another country, and that country was Qatar. So the interview began, and my father was accepted here.

I'm really proud of my father; he is a brave man who gave us food and shelter in this awesome country! Qatar is a great place to live, since the education is better than in Indonesia and the environment is better too.

My father's father died when I was about 1 month old, which is quite sad and my father's mother was dead when my father was only 8 years old.

Indonesia is not a great place to live, since there is still corruption, prostitution and pollution, and my father saved us from this horrible curse, which is a miracle.

In Indonesia, our school was a private school, and you think private schools are good? Well, you are wrong. The education was bad, the students were ill and bad mannered, and the teacher was way too weak to oppose the naughty students. Now since I moved to Qatar, I know that everyone is the same and you should not be scared of anyone except anyone older than you. So if I get back to Indonesia, I learned that 'Why should you be scared of them?'

So I moved to Qatar. Where corruption and prostitution is banned and where education is better! My mother was searching for schools and Qatar International School seemed the spot for me. So I did the test and I passed! My parents were very proud of me and my sister and they decided to give me 200 riyals! Because of this, I decided to think I want to be a better person and study more, to catch up with the good education this school has given.

My father lets me go on a trip from the school, which I think is a kind of miracle. The payment was expensive, and no one in my family could afford this kind of thing, and I'm so lucky that we have enough money to go on this trip.

I remembered when my father used to take me to the fish park; we would fish while riding a brown, wooden boat. It was really peaceful and I would like to do that again someday. After fishing, we would collect our goods and we would fry our fish together in the backyard, I would prepare the seasoning and the tables, I could still smell the fresh thyme added with the natural oils of the fishes, and I could still taste the sourly flavour of the sweetened fishes.

I always remember the best part of my pastimes, when we went to France. We went to the famous Disney land, and you know what I did there? I ate the most delicious hotdog in the world! The hotdogs was covered with molten blue cheese and a pinch of pepper on top. After we enjoyed our delicious meal in the restaurant, we went to the famous space mountain roller coaster. We went into the queue line; it was literally an endless queue line.

Finally, the queue line ends, and it's our turn to ride! But to tell you the truth, my dad was too scared to ride this thing, so he decided to stay and sit down outside (since space mountain is an indoor coaster).So when I stepped in into the coaster cell, My body started shaking and trembling, as if we are going to die after riding this coaster. My mother sat beside me, she too, was frightened, she puts her warm hand over my shoulder and I calmed down a bit. So the coaster cells just launch at full speed and stopped, in a vertical position, the talking machine said to us 'Are you ready?' we answered 'No!!'

The machine replied 'ok then, 3, 2, 1...'

The coaster launches at a pressured speed, with falling and turning, I screamed of course. But then, I saw the light, it was the end of the coaster. My father did not feel the one-time experience of the coaster, so he kind of regrets it.

And after the trip, we ate the best cheesy hotdog in the world again. After that Disneyland experience we went to our hotel and had a little rest. The France journey was awesome and I want to do it again and again, and eat the best cheesy hotdog in the world again and again until my tummy had enough of it...

Please make sure you know that all I wrote is not the truth. The truth is we never went fishing, and the fact is that my Dad is normally too obsessed with football. Back to Contents Page

My Father- An Unsung Hero

By: Deena Abdullah

While filling a profile on a social networking site they asked me 5 things I can't live without and all I could think was to write" I can live in any situation!!" This did not happen in one day or one night; it was a long 6 year process –not an easy process but a real-life testimony. Six years ago I was like many other 10 year old girl; very arrogant, self centred and delusional. I always believed I could have what I wanted and hold it for as long as possible but it was no surprise that I was wrong. Few months later my mother fell ill and was diagnosed with last stage colon cancer which was followed by 5 months of pain, suffering, crying and tension for my family. It's a shame that I was still so delusional that I thought it was no big deal she will live through it even though it was obvious she was going to die. My age was not a factor, I was ten, not dense but so ignorant.

Every day my family would visit my mother in the I.C.U and see her helpless hooked up to machines. She used to be so lively and bubbly but there she lay trying her best to fight it. I wish I knew she was dying and that's exactly what happened she passed away shortly. The entire house was filled with people trying to console us and all I could think was to keep my cool. I was so scared of crying in front of people that I went up to the roof and cried my heart out and came back acting like everything was fine. I was so carried away when people told me how strong I was. I wish I cried then when I was supposed to and told everyone specially my dad how I felt as all that pain built up on me later.

A year after my mom's death things seem to get back in order. My sister got into a good college and my father started being very efficient doing his job as a father and mother but one could tell how broken he was inside for losing his wife. He was left alone to raise three kids on his own. We have no close relatives in Qatar to help us in such a critical situation so it was my father making ends meet. Despite everything he was going through from getting my sister into a good college and trying to settle my brother's life, he never lost his patience. He always had a smile on his face around us like everything was fine and frankly I started to believe it. Every night he goes to bed knowing that someday he might end up alone and it breaks my heart I could not do anything about it. Not to forget I was not in the best position as well. I was 13 at that time and my hormones had the best of me. I could not find a way to deal with all the loss in my life that I started lying to everyone and my so called best friends did not get through me either. When I was in a crisis all they did was misunderstand me and judge me. Every night I used to cry myself to sleep hoping for someone to rescue me but I had no one to lean on except my father. I knew my dad had a lot on his plate I could not burden him with my insecurities even though I knew he would catch all my tears and turn things around.

On a certain night, for the first time instead of complaining about how miserable my life is, I realized I had forgotten to thank God for the best blessing that is bestowed upon my life – my father. I was so busy drowning in my own sorrow and wallowing; I did not realize how hard it must have been for my father to lose his wife and his life partner. Regardless of his loss he stood up to the test and gave the world to me and my siblings without us even realizing it. Every morning he would wake me up from sleep just like my mother did, brush my hair, help me pick out clothes and listen to me gossip about school. He made a living and a home without hoping for anything in return. That's when it clicked me that even after losing my mother, I could see her in my father every time he would cook us dinner or see my report card. I began to believe that my mothers' essence, care and infinite love for us are somehow deeply rooted in my father. It was like before my mother passed away she left behind a part of her with my father in order to guide and protect us.

As years passed the anger and pain of losing my mother started to heal and my father did not give us an opportunity to feel her absence. There is no doubt no one can love me like my mother but my father is incredibly close to it. Sometimes when people learn that my mother passed away they look at me like I am helpless and I just laugh to myself knowing that I am way stronger than they are. I have been through death, loss, depression, and self esteem issues and yet I dream of running for President someday. I keep my grades up and show my prominence to the world so that no one can ever say that I lost my way because I did not have a mother. All this newly found faith in me is because of my father's endless struggle and trust in me. Not once did he doubt my decisions or stop me from doing what makes me happy but gave me the choice to decide for myself. He set up boundaries for me and gave me lectures about how hard and challenging the world is for a girl just like a mother would. Even after everything my father has done and still continuing to do their will still be a part of me deeply aching and longing for my mother but from time to time my father makes me forget about all that pain.

The word hero until a few years ago implied to me a superhuman in tight outfits with supernatural powers. That's the picture that is painted in our heads since we were as young as four, when every day around us we come across extraordinary heroes but unaware of them. According to some people heroes are figures like batman and superman, to others freedom fighters and great personalities from history and to some other brave citizens who jump into burning buildings to save a soul. According to me a single father trying to raise three children in their prime with no help is a hero; a man, working three jobs to support his family with less than 4 hours of sleep, a friend guiding on the right path. There are a few such people I see every day and one of them is my father an ordinary hero. He may not be written down in history like Gandhi and Lincoln but he touched lives just like them.

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If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

............
You Never Know What You've Got Until You Lose It

By: Deena Abu Al Saad

Seconds, minutes and hours pass by everyday dad, you've been in my mind through it all. The last time I saw you were in the hospital bed under medication looking very weak, but yet that handsome smile of yours seemed to cross your face somehow. I miss you so much.

My father passed away from the infamous lung cancer when I was at the age of 9. Now I am 15 years old. It's been a very hard time for me and my family. My dad left everyone silent and speechless, in confused thoughts; he flew away like a dove.

My father was diagnosed with lung cancer 5 years before it killed him. He died at the age of 37, young and bright. Thank god, I was left with an amazing and intelligent woman, I like to call Mom. She did a great job by raising me, my twin sister and our 19 year old brother. She provided me with everything I needed and was there whenever I required a shoulder to cry on. She was there though it all, through the ups and downs and never complained once.

When my dad died, I felt broken inside. Every great thing I use to think and see while he was with me is now gone into something I never want to forget but I can't stand to remember. He was and still is my hero. I couldn't believe he was gone, and I felt like it was a nightmare. He left way too much behind.

Looking back at those days when all I use to do was go to the hospital and just stare at my dad's green eyes that were always filled with hope. I remember asking myself constantly 'what has happened to my dad?". He has to stay strong. He taught me never to give up no matter what happened. On the last days of my father's life the way he looked always brought tears to my eyes although he tried to never show us what he was feeling inside. What has chemo and radiation done to my handsome and young dad? How can something change the appearance of someone in a matter of months? Chemo and radiation left my dad pale and hairless.

I always wonder what is going to happen to me once I grow up .Living without a father is not easy at all. Who's going to be there, as I sit and watch all other girls share a dance with their fathers? The sentence that I don't have an answer to is, "why me?"

You are the one I truly miss Dad. No one can replace you, no matter what happens. You are my hero, my soul and my inspiration. I miss you so much but I know that it is better for you and you are in a better place right now. I always know that no matter what I do or where I am, you are always there watching over me. You know that you mean the world to me and I love you. Days pass by as I sit in my room looking at your pictures, there is nothing I can do but wish you are having a better time. If only time can go back so that I can show you how much you meant to me and how much we appreciate you.

If only you are able to read this and understand how much I miss you and that I am truly proud to say that Zaid Abu Al Saad was my dad and he was a true fighter.

R.I.P daddy, I love you.

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My Reputable Dad

By: Dr. Kiran Bala

Dad is on the bed recovering from severe gastrointestinal bleeding and heart attack. He was under care of super specialist in intensive care unit of Kailash hospital Noida - India for two months. During his stay he was given 18 units of blood. And even today I remember how difficult it was for me to arrange so many donors. In India even healthy young men are sometimes very reluctant to donate blood even for very close relatives. Most of the doctors in the hospital were not very hopeful for his recovery but he used to say "I am going to live many more years. And I want to see all my grand children settling well in life!"

Dad is recovering slowly. At times he smiles and then gets angry at little things. Attending nurses have hard time satisfying him. Anyone can understand how difficult and painful it is to lie on bed all the time especially when you are excellent with your mental abilities. He was always a very active man full of energy. He never even rested for a while in the afternoon. Now may be God is compensating and giving him extra rest. But it is very painful for him.

My dad is 86 years old confined to bed after prolonged illness. He is not very well but still his love of life and courage inspires us all to face things head on. Hats off to him!

"Nothing is impossible!" These I have learnt from my Dad. I am the eldest of four daughters he has brought up with confidence and pride. He never made us feel that we are girls and less than boys in any way. When I finished my MBBS he was very keen to send me to USA for higher studies. During his posting in Washington in fact I did qualify my ECFMG examination in one go. But I opted to do MD from India only.

Dad had lived his childhood without a supporting father so he was always a very good father to us. Always ready to help his children. As a child I remember dad always wanted that we should be well versed with all modern gadgets and own them whenever possible because he could not do this during his childhood due to financial constrains.

I have lived my life following principles of this great man and always felt that my dad is the best dad in the world!

He went through his journey from age of three holding hands of his mother. His dad died of mercury poisoning when he was only three years old. His childhood days were hard but still with hard work and dedication he did better than many children of his time.

My father Mr. Krishan Pal Bhandari was born in 1926 to Mr Wazir Chand an engineer who built roads and wells in Basra and Baghdad and earned lot of money. Dad was a diplomat. He had his postings in Afghanistan, Bahrain and Washington. During his tenure in Jalalabad (Afghanistan) he learnt the local languages, Persian and Pashto. And I have heard him talking very fluently in both these languages. His knowledge of these languages gave him an important opportunity to be closely associated with Badshah Khan (Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan). People in India considered Badshah Khan equal to Mahatma Gandhi and called him "Frontier Gandhi". Gandhiji called Badshah Khan a man of God. In the words of late Jawaharlal Nehru "He is not only Faker-e-Afghan (Honourable Afghan) but it is right to call him, Faker-e Hind (Honour of India).

Way back in 1965 when dad was posted in Kabul as Registrar in Indian Embassy. There was an Indian fair organized by the Embassy officials and some important people like Kamal Nain Bajaj and Madalsa were also attending. Khan Abdul Gaffar Khan was one of the local invites. Mr. Thapar, the Indian Ambassador in Kabul organized a trip to Buddhas of Bamyan for Gaffar Khan, Bajaj and others. Bamyan has two 6th century monumental statues of standing Buddhas carved into the side of a cliff in the Bamyan valley in the Hazarajat region of central Afghanistan situated 230 km North West of Kabul at an altitude of 2500 meters built in 507.

Mr. Thapar gave responsibility of taking care of Badshah Khan to my dad. While visiting Bamyan one day, when dad went to talk to Mr. Khan, Mr Khan Gaffar Khan asked him to shift into his hotel room to give him company. My Dad was well known for his public relation qualities and he was able to impress Badshah Khan also. Then considering the closeness of my dad with Badshah Khan Mr. Thapar started sending him (my dad) to old Shahi Mahal guest house where Badshah Khan was staying to help in interpreting the Hindi and Persian language documents. And slowly the comfort level was so much between the two that later even the interpreter was relieved from his duty and Mr Bhandari - my dad - was given all responsibility of looking after this work for two years.

Later in 1980 and 1987 when Gaffar Khan came to India for treatment of arthritis and heart ailments dad was specially called to be with him. In 1980 dad was posted in Bahrain and on special duty he stayed in AIIMS for 3 month with Mr. Khan and took care of him. In 1987 dad had retired and again when Abdul Gaffar Khan was in India, he was called for special duty to be with him.

All the years till Mr. Khan was alive they exchanged letters regularly. Mr. Khan used to write in Urdu and dad was sending reply in typed English. I have with me many of those letters and even some photographs.

Even today when dad is not well and bedridden, the very name of Badshah Khan brings smile on his face and he fondly talks about his days spent with that great man. How sometimes we have strange relationships with people from far off places you never know.

Today I read to dad what I wrote and he was very happy. I wish that he lives the rest of his days without pain and smile on his face.

Love you Dad!..................

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My Father's Legacy

By: Eman Zabi

Tonight's the night. My palms are sweating profusely, I wipe them on my trousers; my heart racing. Tonight's the big night. I finger the case kept by side anxiously, the very sight of the stage caused butterflies to erupt violently...

"I'm not cut out for this...I'm not cut out for this..." I muttered under my breath hysterically.

I glanced up at my reflection in the back stage mirror. My eyes always reminded me of him...We shared the same eyes.

His eyes shone with years of experience, his old fingers moved with an incomprehensible finesse, gently coaxing the most beautiful sounds out of the wooden instrument in his arms. The gentle melodies from his instrument could evoke emotions in even the most heartless of people.

My mother once said she'd fallen in love with the music before the musician, but she soon realized that the music was the musician. My father poured every ounce of himself into his music. His passion, his dedication and his courage, you could hear it all, in every note he played.

It all begun when my father, a mere boy of seven, had been crouching outside a tavern trying to spy on his older brothers when he heard the sound of a violin. Immediately enchanted by the music my father followed it like the rats behind the Pied Pieper, he scurried through the winding streets, until he was standing outside a large oak door. Taking a deep breath, he knocked. The music stopped abruptly, and at the door stood a wraith of a man, ancient and wizened.

"What do you want?" croaked the man.

"The m-music..." spluttered my father.

"Be on with ya!" snarled the man, slamming the door in his face.

For the next two weeks my father spent every waking moment pestering the old man to teach him. After being harried relentlessly, the old maestro gave in.

There were many times that my father quit in frustration, but he'd always find himself back in front of Gerard Liddy's front door, almost as if some unseen force was drawing him there.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into years and so, under his tutelage my father spent years, learning the gentle art of stirring souls.

When the time finally came for my father to leave home for university, Gerard Libby presented my dad with the violin that had sent him cascading into the world of music so many years ago.

He left his home town and went to university, charming everyone with his music, healing souls and touching lives, for after all; music is the closest thing, after silence, which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible.

Ever since I was five, my father grilled music into me. Taking me to and from lessons, to competitions as well as overseeing my practice at home, I had music shoved down my throat. For a long time I despised it, the very mention of the "violin" could sour my mood.

I would rebel, fight and try everything within my power to escape the arduous violin lessons, going so far as to fake illness. But, one day all of that changed, I had been locked in my room with my violin, my parents refused to let me out until I'd practiced for at least an hour, I grudgingly agreed, picking it up and started playing Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" , about 5 minutes into the piece I realized that I'd had a visitor. Our neighbour, an old lady from Russia stood right outside my window swaying gently with the music, her eyes closed, her face calm, looking utterly blissful. The sight moved me; I'd never seen anyone react like that to my music before. I'd finally understood what my father had said all along about the gift of giving. Music really does transcend all languages, it reaches out and makes a connection between souls and like William Congreve said "Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak." That was the day that I too came to love the violin, just like Dad said I would. This was also the day that I inherited my father's prized violin, the very same one that Gerard Libby had given him so many years ago.

It was only then that I truly opened my mind to music, and to my Dad, and it was only then I that I discovered who I was.

Three years after my revelation, my father passed away, silently and in his sleep. He was only 47 at the time, and in such a short time he had inspired and touched the lives of so many people. I was overcome with grief and my music became my expression. I toiled away for hours playing tune after tune until the music rang in my ears even after I'd stopped. Music was my refuge, I let it consume me. Eventually, I came to terms with my grief, knowing that my father would've wanted me to carry on his passion and mine.

So, here I am, about to perform at the biggest classical concert of my life. My name is announced and I ascend the stage. My bow poised on the strings of Gerard Libby's violin. I take a deep breath, and play.

As I descend the stage, the thundering claps of the audience ringing in my ears, I picture my old father smiling down at me and saying in his soft voice. "I'm proud of you, kid."

I was and am my father's daughter. His music runs in my veins and in me lives on his legacy.

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My Journeying Father

By: Emila Maria Amin

My father is very important in my life and I love him very much. He is for me an example to be followed in life. I am glad that he is my father. He is a tall handsome man and very elegant. He used to be a Professor of Law in a university in Poland. He is very well educated and we can talk with him about any subject. He has visited many countries and knows a lot about them. He is author of four books about Law and many articles, in Polish, English and Arabic some of which were awarded. I am very proud of my dad and I hope very much to follow his example and write a book in the future.

My father was always beside me, used to help me from my birth. He helped me start my first steps, say my first words, write my first letters and he is still my loving teacher. I am very lucky to have my own teacher at home.   
The first and most important thing I learnt from my dad is to depend, first of all, on myself in doing my duties and homework. He instructed me not to hesitate in asking my teachers at school whenever I do not understand any matter during the lectures, he repeated always: "You are in the school to learn so don't hesitate to ask your teacher to help you understand or explain any question." When I ask him to help me to solve any difficulty in my home work he always asks me to do my best first to solve it and only then, he explains to me the possibilities of solving it. He never does the work for me.

My father likes very much to travel and visit different countries. Travelling is his hobby. This fact gave me a lot of occasions to visit many countries from the beginning of my life and played an important role in my life. I love travelling and can't imagine a holiday without travelling somewhere. The finest experience with travelling, which I will never forget, was when I was six years old. We travelled by car from Qatar to Poland. That was a wonderful trip. It was a trip from Asia to Europe. We travelled through many countries such as: Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Syria, Turkey, Bulgaria, Croatia, Serbia, Romania, Hungary, and Slovakia to Poland. We stayed for one day in most of these countries. Dad was bringing our attention to watch the differences between one country and another starting with the uniform of checkpoint's officers, the pavements of the streets, traffic lights, buildings, the services in restaurants, behaviour of people landscapes and so on. This gave me a very interesting experience about people and about the world in which we live.

I will never forget a moment in Turkey when we were travelling through a long and high flying-bridge, when dad said: attention we are now in Asia and within two or three minutes we will be in Europe and this way we made our way from one continent to another. That was the Bosporus Bridge which connects between Asia and Europe.

Another experience which I will never forget was a moment, when we were travelling between Bulgaria and Serbia. It was a wonderful afternoon with shining sun when suddenly it started to be dark with huge clouds covering the sky. After a while it started raining so heavily that Dad told us later that he has never seen such a rain in his life. All cars parked beside the road and so did dad. My brother and I were very scared and started shouting but Dad started to calm us down that it is only rain. After a very long seven minutes it stopped raining and the sun started shining again and we started moving again, when suddenly a huge, colourful rainbow appeared in the sky from one side to the other across the horizon. I remember that beautiful colourful rainbow till today.   
That was not the only trip I experienced with my dad and my family, but it was the most interesting one. We made this trip twice. My father took us also in another trip to the United Arab Emirates and to Bahrain. We saw Abu Dhabi, Dubai and Sharjah Emirate. Here the culture and the habits and the way of life is very similar to the way of life in Qatar, however one can notice the differences in the technical development between one and another country. I enjoyed the trip very much.

My father's job as a professor has opened before me other chances to travel and see different countries. Once he was invited to England as a visiting professor and I travelled with him and my family from Poland to England by bus and stayed there for one month. I had different very interesting experiences. We travelled through many European countries without any border check points as if we were travelling in one country. My father explained that we were travelling through European Union countries and as Poland is a member of the Union each Polish citizen can travel through the Union countries without even passport, it is fair enough to have his ID card. Another very interesting experience during this trip was when our bus was taken by ferry from France to England through the Straits of Dover. We stayed in Hull but also visited London and some other cities in England.

Two years ago my father took us to Malaysia where I experienced a totally different culture and different society and way of life. There are a lot of things to remember from this trip. We stayed in Kuala Lumpur for four weeks and visited many interesting places like the famous PETRONAS Twin Tower, the beautiful Zoo and the most beautiful Butterfly Garden. I also visited the chocolate factory where they showed us how they make the chocolate sweets.   
Last holiday I travelled with my father and family to Tunisia. This was again a different journey. Here is a new country and a new continent and the lovely sea of the Mediterranean. Here I remember the famous historical places like the ancient Romanian city of Carthage and the ancient Islamic city of Qayrawan.

I love my father thanks to him I love the most interesting hobby in my life; travelling and tourism. I am wondering where he will take us next holiday and I look forward to having a new experience.

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My Greatest Role Model Dad

By: Faisal Al-Bulushi

My dad and I have done lots of things together, he has been my best role model and he always helped me get through problems and issues in school or outside. I remember, when I was 5 years old, I had trouble in school with a bully because I have always been a skinny child, he told me tell the teacher but when I did the teacher didn't pay any attention so he told me just be ok with him and he won't do anything, I took his advice and I helped the boy with his studies then he became one of my closest friends and he still is now, after 11 years.

Every time I needed something outside the school I would always ask my dad, for example all my play stations, my dad bought me all of them but he did that when I got good marks in school. Whenever I need someone to take me to my friends house or to the mall and the driver isn't there I would just ask my dad. Sometimes my brother and I play fight and my dad comes back home from work and he's stressed we would just keep the noise down because we know that he works very hard to earn money for us, to build our future and to provide for us the best home and the best education.

Some children don't know what they have, they get kicked out of school because they're always in trouble, they think their dad just screams at them because he likes it; no he only does that because he cares about them. Some kids say: why does my dad always tell me not to smoke, it's my life! The answer to that is, he doesn't want to see us injuring ourselves with poison.

I started playing football when I was 6 years old but I wasn't that good, but my dad kept telling me stories about great football legends so that I wouldn't give up on football and continue practicing and I did. I watched videos about famous players and I learned from those videos and now I still do. He signed me up to a football juniors league, MCFL (Muscat Community Football League), I entered the team when they were playing their 4th match and the 3 matches they played before they lost without scoring any goals but when I saw my dad watching me play I got motivated. I wanted to show him that I did practice and I scored 3 goals in my first match and I became the captain. We didn't have a chance to be in the first place for the league but we did win the Cup. When I saw my dad happy and smiling at me for holding up the Cup I got a feeling that made me feel good about myself and all thanks should go to my father. I kept on joining the MCFL to get better and I did. In my second year I got the best player award and the top scorer. When I told my dad he was so happy and he got so excited for the final match because he knew that when I got those award I became better and I told him it was all because of him but he said: no you did it with your hard work and that's why I'm proud of you. When he said that I swear I felt like I was the best son in the whole wide world. I'm the cub of the great lion. We won the final match and because I was the captain I could take the cup so once I got it I took the picture with my dad holding it and I'm on his shoulders.

Recently I turned 16 and he knows that in one year I will get my driving license so he keeps on teaching me how to drive and how to clean the car and how to take care of the car but he tells me one thing which is never drive recklessly because he says he could never handle the pain if he hears the phone rings and he hears that I'm in a car accident; He said he will buy me any car of my choice as long as I don't drive like a maniac.

He knows that teenagers of my generation smoke and do drugs. He tells me how bad these things are, that cigarettes don't do anything but kill you and to honour him I don't use anything. I'm here in Qatar Leadership Academy because of him; he helped me through everything to enter and he told me that if I didn't want to come here I shouldn't but I wanted to.

I remember when I left Oman I saw tears in his eyes and that's why I behave well in class and I behave well here in QLA and I don't want to do anything to disappoint my dad. This is my life with my dad. I respect him and will never do anything to hurt him. If anyone does anything to my dad I swear I will be the first to get vengeance and if a bullet was shot, I would jump in front of it for my dad.

People think that the mother only gets exhausted and tired from giving birth. Imagine the father in the waiting room worrying and nervous about the condition of his wife and child and the father does not sleep and does not eat, the only thing on his mind is his child and his wife.

If it wasn't for my father I wouldn't be where I am right now. With his support and my hard work I made it, with his advices, and his knowledge I made it, with his career and hard work that he did for me and my brothers and sisters I made it, all credit goes to my dad.

I'm in a boarding school currently and I like it, But sometimes I just think about my family and how my dad told me not to let him down and that's why every day I work as hard as I can. My name is Faisal Al-Bulushi and I go to Qatar Leadership Academy. I'm 16 years old and that's my life and story with my greatest role model, my dad.

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My Hero In Life

By: Farah Maher George Zahrah

I have a life story, and every story has a hero. My hero is a special person in my life. I love this person as the stars - he's a bright shining example and a happy twinkling star in my heart. I really want the light which is coming from him to be spread all around the world, to let everybody know how great he is.

Every one of us has his\her own hero. Now, I'm going to talk about my hero.

The story starts when I came to this strange world. He took me in his merciful hands. I always used to ask myself, if I didn't have this person beside me, how my life would look like?!

He's my inspiration. I always look more closely at his actions. How does he move, talk and eat. I really want to be like him in everything. I remember one day when I was at school, and my teacher asked me to imitate a special person to me. I didn't know how to do this and asked her to let me talk about him instead. I still remember an interesting incident; I was a six year old naughty girl. I always used to eat my nails, and it was the reason for many health problems. He tried many times to make me stop doing this, but I couldn't quit this bad habit. And one day, he told me something that made me change my mind. He said to me: "When you become a bride, the groom will put the ring in your finger, and when he sees how your nails look like, he will escape from the ceremony, and never come back again". When I heard this, I took the matter seriously, and never did that again.

For twenty five years, my father got up every morning at 5:00 am, and went to work. For twenty five years, he returned home at 5:00 pm like clockwork. And sometimes, he had to change the shift, and for many nights, he stayed out of the house. He really sacrificed, and is still sacrificing for us. He also travels a lot for work, and spends weeks out. I really miss him so much when he is not beside me. I sometimes feel that I have to spend more time with him, so I can learn more from him. I never remember him taking a "night out with his friends". I never remember him refusing any request of any member of the family.

He's always encouraging me, while making it very clear that I don't have to do anything if I didn't want to. And this is the most I like in his personality, that he appreciates our desires. I remember another incident with him. At the age of seven, I had to change my school for physical conditions. But the new school rejected the application, because I didn't reach the legal age for the third grade. So, they told my mother that I have to restudy the previous academic year to fit in the right grade. My father told me that if I didn't want to repeat the year, I can stay where I am without any change if I didn't want to. And that explains how he feels with others.

As I set and reflect on my father, there are a number of things that come to mind. The most important is what he taught me and is still teaching me every day. He told me how to strive to achieve my dreams no matter what obstacles stand in my way. He taught me how to love life and my family. He taught me how to be the best wife, mother, daughter and sister. He taught me that whatever life has in store for me, there is always a happy ending sight. He taught me that every dream is possible. He taught me the value of politics, humour and especially education. My father is an educated and cultured person. He is an aircraft engineer, and he's a respectful person because of that. He loves his job a lot. He learnt a lot from that job, and one of the lessons he learnt was when he worked in Jordan before he came to Qatar. His friend made a serious mistake, and when the director investigated the matter, my father didn't tell that it was his friend. And because of that, he lost his job. And now, he took this lesson seriously and worked on it for 17 years during his career in Qatar.

My father respects his family a lot, especially his parents; he looks for their needs and supports them morally and physically. He's also the inspiration and the hero to his four children. We can't imagine our life without him. He represents the essential member of our family. He makes it full of life and happiness. My mother loves him so much, and sometimes, she needs him more than anyone in the world. Sometimes I think about him and how do we all depend on him, but does he depends on any one? Who gives him support and always is beside him? I sometimes feel sorry for him, because he has lots of responsibilities that must be all done. One of these responsibilities is to take care for our religious sphere. He always teaches us about the religious life and how to work on the orders of God. I never remember him late for church. He always tells us: "If you don't respect time, people won't respect you". And because of that, I work on his advice, and it really works. He really understands me, and my needs. But sometimes, my father has some thoughts that won't be changed like forever. One of these things is about us. What I mean by us is me and my sisters. He doesn't accept the idea of allowing his daughters to study in a foreign country. He wants us to be always around him. Also he thinks that the girls are weak, and they always need help. Now, I'm working on changing this, because my only dream is to have experience and take some lessons in life. And now, at the age of late forties, it's too difficult to change his mind. But I sometimes feel that it must be changed because I'm not so far away from my dream.

Another thing is that he's angry if we did something wrong knowingly. He always let us know; how to deal with life. During the story of my life, I'm having my father's love, support and encouragement throughout. I really can't imagine my life without him. Now, after these all years of sacrificing, I'd like to make my father proud of me, and that makes me so motivated to be the best doctor ever. Also, I'd like to teach my children in the future all the lesson I've learnt from him. And now, I'm writing about him to tell the world how great is my father, and without him I'd be nothing. Love you dad! ...............

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My All-Round Father

By: Farida Hisham Tawfik

If I were to tell you all about my father I will never find an ending point. I wish I had this opportunity before. My father is tall, handsome, and gentle with black hair and glasses. When I look at my father's eyes I see knowledge and a huge glossary. He is like an open book you can get any information from him any time and like a tree, gives and doesn't wait for the reward.

My father is a professor in Qatar University; he is an example of the man who works extremely hard because he likes his work. My father wakes up at 6 am to go to work and he returns back home at 9 pm. I miss him a lot; however I know that he works for us. The standard of the living we are enjoying is because of his hard work. He taught me to be a hard worker and to take my work seriously and to love what I do and how to be well organized. Without my father I couldn't be the girl I am today.

My dad and I have had so many memories together. I can remember when he taught me how to hold my spoon and eat and how to do my cappuccino cup. We have spent good times together. When I took my first crawl, he was there. When I took my first walk, he was there and when I will take my first step in life I hope he will be there. He gives me life, hope, liberty and happiness. He makes my life better.

I used to hate and dislike many things in my life but my father was there at the right time and the right place, so he helped me. He is always there to help even in solving school homework. On the 12th of June 2009 I needed to study for the math exam, but I came home late so there wasn't enough time to study but once more my dad was there, so he came and asked me if I needed any help. I showed him some difficult problems. He explained them to me in an easy and simple way, and I went to the exam and I got high marks. He was so proud of me.

I will never forget when we used to go to the cinema and my father would ask us about the characters and places names; to improve our memory as he always makes for us Quizzes over dinner to improve our speed and knowledge. My dad enjoys and loves warm family moments and he is serious about gathering during dinner, he never eats alone.

How sweet were the moments when my father used to take me to see Grandma and Grandpa? I can still remember the smell of tasty and healthy food my Grandma use to feed me. My sister and I used to perform dances for them; we used to put the smile on their faces. At these moments I used to see how happy and proud my father is. And we used to play Bingo together as a big family.

And the non-forgettable bed time stories. My dad used to explain and tell us about the morals, colours, sound, new knowledge and verbs. My dad always gives us chance to choose what we want whether it is a book to read, film to watch or a place to go.

The most exciting memory I can tell you about is when we went with my dad to the beach. It was the first time for me to see how the sky meets the sea and form a beautiful and wonderful scene. I used to feel the sand filling the gaps between my toes; I can't forget when my dad had to carry me in the sea to avoid the wave's crash. The happiness can't be expressed there at the beach where beauty has been given a name. My father and I used to build sand castles and cars, we used to write our names on the sand before we go home and we used to sing lots of songs on our way back.

I can remember, on the 5th of September 2009 my father asked me to go to the farm with him. He told me that I will enjoy my time there by watching the nature and the green crops. I didn't quite like the idea but I went because I didn't want to argue with him. On our way I saw the green grass and I smelled the freshness of the vegetables and fruits and I felt the breeze of the air splashing on my face. When we were finally there I tiptoed out of the car, I felt the warm air blowing on my legs and the grass moving like feathers. I heard the birds singing happiness and the chicken peeping and clucking. I saw a charming massive farm. All animals were making noise at the same time as if they were connecting together. I loved watching roosters, cows, goats and sheep but the horses were the best. I rode one of my Grandma's horses and I had an exciting game of hide and seek in the coach-house round. We had a barbecue, the smell was indescribable and the taste was luscious. I enjoyed my day on the farm. Where everything is easy to get and life is easier by working hard. A place where you can find what you want from a peaceful life and fresh un-polluted air. My dad told me at the end of the day, "Don't ever judge a book by its cover".

Proud is just a word which couldn't describe how I feel towards my father. I feel safe when I am with him. When I used to be sick I could hear his heart beats jumping all around the place. I am glad that my mother has chosen him to be my father. He is the best father I have ever met. He is always my true friend. When I need him he is always there and whenever I am in trouble he always had a plan and I am his biggest fan. Fatherhood is a great value everybody should enjoy it as much as they can. I am doing that and I hope I will do it for a long time.

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My Hero and My Idol – My Papa

By: Fathima Hanan

It was a beautiful evening; I was on my vacation at my native place. I was just seven years old back then - the age when you are fantasized by anything that is bright and colourful. My dad and I were just strolling in a park, not uttering a single word. That's when I heard some kind of rumbling noise. I looked back and saw a toy train in the park. It gave rides to kids!! My joy had no bounds. Until then I had never seen anything of that kind. I told my dad. But he gave me the most unexpected reply. A big NO! Then we came across a street vendor who sold balloons. Wow!! I badly wanted one. And again, dad wouldn't get me one. I was deeply hurt by the whole incident.

That was eight years ago. During this long gap of eight years, there have been dramatic changes in our father-daughter relationship.

Papa has always loved to read and write too but he was the one who instilled in me a passion for reading and writing. Had it not been for him I would have never realized my latent talents. I had always dreaded my English exam because I was afraid of the instant essays and stories that we had to write. I took part in many writing competitions, but never won in any. By then, I lost all my confidence. Still I knew I loved writing. At that time there was my dad who told me that it really didn't matter whether I won it or not. He asked me to continue writing and always appreciated mine. It was more than enough for me. He got me plenty of books so that I could improve my language. Here I now write this proudly only because of him. What's more, these days I even top my English paper. He taught me that only perseverance and hard work can take you to heights. The age old adage 'failure is the stepping stone to success' sounded meaningful to me only when my dad showed it to me in my own life.

In this whole world, if I was asked to point out one person whom I can be with for hours, then that person would undoubtedly be my dad. We both share a lot of common interests and opinions. Rarely have we had conflicting views on any matter. I can go on talking to him for hours about anything from funny jokes at my school to serious global issues. And we have such kinds of conversations very often. In today's world with both the parents working and no time for their kids, such moments are priceless. Only these memories will remain to be cherished, once the inevitable separation knocks on the door.

My dad has always encouraged me to make friends with people cutting across cultural and geographical barriers. He himself has set an example with him having a lot many friends from different parts of the world who come from various backgrounds and life experiences when we ourselves hail from a small south Indian state. It has helped me to relate to other people coming from totally different cultures. This advice of him has been so much inspiring to me since I go to a school where followers of my religion are less. If it was not for his wise words I would have had to convince myself every morning to go to school. Because so much was the feeling of alienation I had at school with my grade mates asking me number of questions regarding my religion.

Even though I was taught to be pious and committed to my religion, my father always reminded me to embrace the universal values of love and justice of other faiths. He told me that my friends' religious identity didn't matter as long as they led a righteous life and did no harm to others. And that's exactly what's helping me to live in harmony in a diverse world.

Dad has always lived up to his ideals. Not once have I seen a chasm in what he preached and practiced. This is a great thing as far as a child is concerned because it eliminates a feeling of hypocrisy about your dad. This is usually seen when your dad tells something and seems to do just the opposite. Since I know that my dad is always true to his words, I can always trust him blindly, I say.

Papa instilled in me a feeling of spirituality. It's because of his constant advise that I pray to God five times a day (religion orders us to pray 5 times) without fail. Belief in God has provided a meaning to my life and an answer to my intriguing questions about the creation of nature and living beings.

He shows a mystical approach towards worldly pleasures of life and has a casual attitude towards material possessions. He let me know that a pure diamond necklace is nothing when compared to a pure heart. These words have always safe guarded me from being a spendthrift.

He has never really pressurized me in my academics. Never has he asked me to study or scolded me for scoring less. Rather he appreciated me when I did well and stood as a pillar of support during times of failures. He has always given me the freedom to choose my career and follow my dreams.

But there has been this particular thing about dad's job which always frustrates me. He has no holidays even during the weekends. I hate this very much since we get very less time to interact with each other and family outings are very rare.

I still remember my fifteenth birthday very vividly. Few days before my birthday, I had a row with my dad due to some reasons. Since then I didn't talk to him. But I never really intended to hurt him. But yeah, it was a form of revenge. I purposely didn't remind him about my birthday. I wanted him to know about it, but not from me. And then he did come to know when one of my friends called in to wish me. Aaahh.....Papa's face at that moment...I still have that face carved in my heart. He literally screamed at me for not letting him know. He was sad that I wasn't sharing anything with him. And then the most surprising thing happened. Not even in the wildest of my wild dreams did I ever know that this would happen. He broke down!! Yes, he broke down. Tears rolled down his cheeks!! I was dumbfounded. In my whole life it was for the first time that I saw my dad cry and that too on my fifteenth birthday!! It didn't stop here. I went back to my bed. Dad came over to me and gave me the next shock of my life. He kissed me all over on my face. That was the first time Papa gave me kisses. Words can't express the feelings I had at that time. I was overwhelmed with emotions-sadness, happiness, confusion, regret. Papa told me that he loved me more than anything in this world. He even asked me if I bore any grudge against him. He told me that he was disturbed at his workplace to since I wasn't talking to me. I didn't know that if I stopped talking it would bother dad so much. That was the day when I realized the unconditional love "my" dad has for his "only" daughter.

Since then I have always made it a point that I smiled at my dad everyday because I knew it mattered a lot to him. May be more than what it did to me.

My dad is truly an idol to me; a person, whom I look upon, somebody who gave meaning to my life. He taught me that life had its ups and downs. All that was important was to move on without looking back. He showed me the philosophy of life. I admire my dad the most out of all humans on earth. I love my dad.

Anybody can be a father, but it takes a real man to be a daddy.

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..........

If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

............
My First-In-Line Father

By: Fatima Abdelaal Hamour

Abdelaal Hammour, bless his soul, is a son of a renowned man, from a famous family; at the North part of Sudan. His father was an intelligent man, very generous and religious; it is said that if a guest that is passing by spent a night at his mosque, without having food and he didn't know that, he gets very furious and upset. He was greatly known all over the area, my father's grandfather was a ruler during ancient times, and my grandfather has a strong faith in Sophist leaders in the area. His mother and father are relatives. She was a quiet and patient lady as we were told. With good manners, she doesn't speak evil about anybody. My grandfather was a wealthy man, he has vast agricultural lands. Actually my father's grandfather has an island that named after him, Hamor's Island. He had a palace and many people at his service. During the well remembered famine that stroke the country in 1906, he offered food to many people and saved many of them. The lands were inherited by his descendants Hamorab. The city of old Dongla used to be the place where they dwell.

When my father was a lad, he accompanied his father in his trip to participate in one of the sheikh's festivals at the city of Dongla Elordi. My father was taken by boys attending school at the time; he asked his father to leave him behind to join the school. His father was delighted to hear that, he encouraged and left him behind.

Education was not popular at the time and it was mainly religious; learning the holy Koran by heart. My grandfather was a supporter for education, he sent his five elder sons to famous Khalwa in the East of Sudan with some people who took care of them to learn Koran and religion. So my father was an exception in going to a regular school. Returning home on his holiday, he was reluctant to go again to continue his education. He tried some plots to convince his father. He put some plant juice believed to be dangerous in his eyes, but in vain, his father insisted that he goes even if he is blind. He had no way except to obey his father and proceeded with his education until he finished it.

He joined Gordon Memorial College, the only college in the country at that time, which used to graduate Arabic language teachers and Administrators. Subsequently he completed his university studies and was graduated as a teacher. At the time teachers were highly reputable and respected, i.e. they were figures whom people pointed at. It was natural that a teacher from the North travels to work in the West or East of the country. The Ministry of Knowledge was in charge of the educational system country wise. Though the country is vast, population density was low. Graduated after his mother's death, he was very sad, because she was spoiling him a lot; she never called him bad names or cursed him, though he was stubborn and easily got angry.

He was immediately recruited and started work travelling to most parts of the country. He was married to my mother when she was nine. He worked in Marawi, Tangassi, Elgold, Elfashir, Mugrat, Shendi and Odurman Training College for Teachers to site some. He carried on his career as a very respectable teacher. He adopted a distinguished standard of values. He was straightforward, active, honest and helpful. He advised and helped many to educate their children. Many of his relatives were living with him and attending school.

He encouraged education in general but his efforts for females' education were remarkable. He educated his daughters at a time schools were in far places. They have to live in boarding houses away from their family; so they paved the way ahead for family girls and others to follow their steps.

He was an influential personality. It is now many years after his death, but still his deeds speak about him; his students occupy eminent jobs as specialized doctors, teachers, professors, administrators, engineers, and ministers.

He was one of three government employees who were sent abroad to train and establish the Islamic Arab school at Kano – North of Nigeria, they spent four years there, from 1920 to 1924. Travelling by camels they spent three months to reach there. They were guarded by a team from the military force. By the end of their mission they travelled by air to London. They took the ship from there to Sudan. The Arabic School in Kano is still flourishing, emitting knowledge and awareness in the region.

He had married to two wives later, when one of them died he married the second, at the end of the day he has many children who are well brought up and educated. They all attended schools, males and females, all most all of them are university graduates; many of them obtained post graduate studies. They keep noticeable close relationships with each other. They love and support each other in various ways. They think the reason for this is the fair way their father treated his wives and children by.

Retirement was another chance for him to give part of himself to his home village. He decided to return back to serve his big family and the community. He had played an essential role in the organization of the community life like; in agriculture, education as he asked the authorities to open a school, a dispensary, a mill; He was in charge of the committee of the agricultural scheme.

I think he is a prominent figure to emulate. Honestly he is a model for all of us without any exception. We all hold a very high image for him. A genuine effort to commemorate him is made. A school is now carrying his name was established by one of his sons and supported by all at our village, beside an award that is devoted to the best achiever of students in the area.

In conclusion I think, in spite of what is being done he was not given what he deserved.

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My Father's Foot Steps

By: Gaby Andre Dsouza

My father Ivan Dsouza was born on August 10, 1970. He is currently 40 years old. Over time, there have been several people who have influenced various aspects of my life, based on their personal characteristics, accomplishments, and values. I have been privileged to have had numerous teachers and professors who I respect for their patience and intelligence. There are artists that have inspired me by their natural talents and original creativity. I value many political leaders, who have inspired me by their contributions to society, and their ability to change our futures. Of all the people I have encountered in my life, the person I admire most is my own father.

He is special to me as he has taught many lessons which deal with situations and problems which I may come across in the future. My father always encourages me to do my best in any work, so that I may succeed in life. He tells me, "Do Your Best in any work you do and I know that you can achieve it". I always get inspired by this statement.

He is a very loving, caring and a generous person. He always brings me lots of joy. He is just like my very own Santa Clause .Whenever I feel sad he makes me happy by giving me an ice cream from Baskin Robins or takes me to any theme park in Qatar on a weekend and when I am in difficulty he makes it easy. In 2002, when we were living in the United Arab Emirates, just about 6 years old, I was afraid of the crowd and people. So, I used to cling on my father's back and he used to carry me all the time to make me feel safe in his arms, even though he used to get back aches just like the pain from a thousand devils.

After few months, my father got a job in Qatar in 2002 and we joined him in 2003.

I always respected my father's words and he said once "Take care of me when I grow old and you will have blessings which are as big as the oceans".

My father is a hard worker and excels in every work that he does. He studies lots of books which help him in his career. But, he does not study for the full day. He also plays sports. He was an athlete from 1st standard to the 12th standard in his school and college. He got more than seventy medals and hundred certificates which are still kept safely in his mother's house (74 years old) back in Mangalore, India. So, when I see these medals, I always imagine as if my father is standing on the top of the world – a role model to me.

My father (and my mother Blaise Dsouza who is currently 37 years old.) takes care of the family. He is the provider of the family and comes home every night, whose predictability creates a sense of stability and security in our household. My father is like the sun to me, a sure thing, always there, a beaming light and the warmth in my life. I am indebted to him for his wisdom, his patience, his strength and his love. He is not only my father but, also my role model, my counsellor, my advisor, and my good friend.

My father said "Keep up the good work you are doing and I will put you in one of the universities in Qatar". I was very happy to hear this.

My father is the most important person in my life because he guides me in the right path. He told me to be a hardworking person and to strive for my goal to reach the stars. He said, "Never take for granted the talents God has given you. Know that it can be taken away; you can lose your voice. There will be good times and bad times, but you still have to be strong." He taught me how to be strong and really get through the tough times. It's not all as easy and sweet as it looks. Without his direction and help it would be even harder for me.

Without him I would not be the person I've grown to be. He's a special man. I appreciate the fact that God made him my father, that I am his seed. He has allowed me to grow and expand my future possibilities.

I would like to dedicate a short poem to my father.

A little boy needs Daddy for many, many things

Like holding him high off the ground where the sunlight sings!

Like being the deep music that tells him all is right

when he awakens frantic with the terrors of the night.

Like being the great mountain; that rises in his heart

and shows him how he might get home When all else falls apart.

Like giving him the love that is his sea and air,

so diving deep or soaring high, He'll always find him there

My father used to tell stories when I was growing up. I now find myself yearning for the deep connections that come from sharing and passing down family stories. My father did the best he knew. We all do. And I know that in his heart, he had my best interests in mind. And when I look at the past with more balanced eyes, there are a myriad of ways in which he supported me and influenced me positively.

Actions speak louder than words when it comes to the ones we dearly love. I will grow as a successful man and fulfil my father's wishes.

Thank you for the blessing you have given me. I will take these blessings as a gift which will lead me to success.

I love you dad! I love you!

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My Papa –The Best

By: Gina Susan John and Manoj John

Well, Dad had been strict and pampered me a lot as well. In fact all my family members would say in chorus, "She was the apple of his eyes". And yes indeed, I was the apple of his eyes!! I guess, most daughters share that feeling with their dads. No doubt, Papa was very protective about both of us (my brother & I). But, today as a mother of a 6 yr. Old, I share the same concerns that he had when we were children.

I remember my first day at school when Papa dropped me off at St. Marian's Nursery School and my class teacher (Mrs. Genelia) told Papa to leave me and carry on. He paused for a second and then he left before I could realize what was happening. Today, I feel the heartbeat that he missed that day!! Ironically, all my childhood memories about papa revolve around our 168-Defence Colony house. I don't think I ever imagined a day without the two. But sadly, I only have memories about Papa and the house. Oh God! Is there anything I can trade with you to get them back?? Sadly, but true, my life has to go on with the beautiful memories of them.

Everything we have learnt today is by simply following his steps. I remember the days when his friends would discuss different topics with him and believe it or not, he always had an answer for them. I was truly amazed by the wealth of knowledge he had. Be it history, politics, geography, literature, art, movies... you name it and he would have the answer for them all. As an individual, he was interested in a variety of things. He enjoyed different sports – tennis, golf, billiards, badminton, swimming – an art lover, voracious reader, guru in trading and to top the list he was the grandfather who brought his grandchildren closer to him by his amazing talent of story-weaving at bed-time. Such was his talent and intelligence and Manoj (my brother) & I still strive to achieve 5 % of what he was.

Three decades ago, Chetpet Marthoma Church was the only Marthoma church in Madras city in India. We had a few of our family members in the same parish and the days when it was fete & sale, the parish members had fun in bidding the items at the highest price in our family members names!! Imagine paying Rs 300(in those days) for a kilo of kappa (tapioca) or Rs. 150 for a flower pot. Since mummy was very active in running the Sunday school, it was not a surprise that I was taking part in a singing competition with my cousin, Sandhya. Papa taught us the song, "Anandame Param, anandame enniku" and we both practiced till we got it right. We gave it our best shot and we were so proud of our début performance till we heard one aunty commenting to my mother that we didn't need the mike?!!! (Little did she realize that she was talking to my mom about my performance).

During vacations, we used to have our cousins over at our place or we would join them at their home. We were so thrilled at their swimming pool, that papa decided to convert our little vegetable garden in our backyard into a beautiful swimming pool. We used to eagerly wait for our summer vacations to beat the heat with a dip in the pool. Those days when we played badminton, had water plunges, went on fishing trips to Kovalam or Mahabs, flower shows in Kodai, sight-seeing trips in Ooty/Conoor or just movie cum terrace sleepovers with our family members, it was so much fun and I saw a different dad that time. He was so full of fun and cracked jokes and I could see that he missed his BIG family (a family of 13!!!) though he hardly admitted that. I still hear his sisters (my aunts) saying how Papa and my uncle always entertained the family with their wit. He admired my veliyammachi (his mother) a lot and always kept praising her. Possibly that could be the reason why I share that admiration as well for her and it only grew stronger after I witnessed her survival despite losing both her legs. She still praised the Lord for his mercies and prayed for our well-being! Every time, I think of her, I get a boost of energy within and I would feel that nothing is impossible. Papa had no less admiration for Veliyappachen (his father) as well though he hardly mentioned it. Whenever, he told me stories about Kunnam (his hometown), Veliyappachen was always the king of the Kunnam fort!!! I miss that beautiful house on the hill top which was the most exciting place for me as a child. I was so thrilled that this house was EXACTLY on the top of the hill, that we hardly felt the need for a fan let alone A/c, we were in the midst of rubber estates, had a mini rubber factory, surrounded by cashew trees, plantain trees, mango trees and last but not the least had a cow shed as well. I'm sure Papa's grandchildren are going to miss this experience!

He was always so active and there is no task that he would do half-heartedly. Whether it was National Matriculation School or whether it was St. Thomas Marthoma Church or whether it was something as simple as baby-sitting his grandchildren, you could hardly sense a moment of half-heartedness. He was as determined to set things right from the beginning till the very end. Possibly his sense of right & wrong got him in troubled waters at times. But I know that, his sense of conviction in his principles led the path.

Apart from those glossy days, I did share some tough times with him. As a bubbly teenager, I stood at crossroads with him to exercise my freedom. We both challenged each other at every given opportunity and neither wanted to give heed to the other. I can only say, my dad was lucky that he faced this challenge only when I was a teen, unlike me who is facing such challenges since my son turned 4!

I loved the part where he "taught us to fish rather than fish for us". He showered us with not only love but a wealth of knowledge & advice that we still depend upon.

I can only but thank God for giving us that LAST opportunity with Papa during Sep 09 when we came home for our annual vacation. Since Saju (my husband) was to join me later during the vacation, Papa came to pick us up from airport.

In a few days, it was my birthday. After my marriage, since I was always moving places, I hardly got to be home for my birthday. Ironically, it was the last time I spent my birthday with him!

In the days we were around, Papa helped Nevu (my son) with his holiday home-work assignments and they had fun going to beach, Mahaballipuram and story-telling at bedtime. In fact, Papa named an ayurvedic medicine (supposedly to increase appetite) as 'muscle tonic' so that Nevu enjoyed having that tonic. Till date, Nevu has sudden outbursts when he remembers his dearest Appachen.

Both Papa & Mummy faced a lot of challenges in their journey of 39 years. No matter the differences they had between each other, they stood strong despite all the odds. Every day, since that fateful day, it has been a struggle for Mummy to keep going without the man who made her life interesting. She is all praise & admiration for the man who made his life purposeful not just for his family but also for the society around in the little ways he could! However, there is a lump in my throat when I realize that she just missed her 40th wedding anniversary by just a week! No wonder they say, 13th is an unlucky date. I completely subscribe to that theory.

Today, as I sit in my house, I am more conscious of his absence than I was of his presence. But I still believe, Papa is around us and every time I want to talk to him, I just call out to him. May his soul rest in peace and we pray that God give us the strength to carry on.

Aayiram Kannumai Kathirinnu Ninnenjaan,

Ennil Ninnum parrannagannaoru,payinkilli malar thenkilli.......

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My Compromising Father

By: Hafizh Shiddiq

Day and night the door would creak open with my father walking through the threshold, wearing his working suit and carrying his ransack. We lived in an apartment with two rooms, one for me and my little sister, the other for my parents.

For all of us, there was always work to be done, my mother with kitchen duties, me and my sister with school duties but my father does more than a single duty. He would come back from work only to do more work however it was for love, the love he has for his family, the love that presents how much he cares for us, how he is willing to go so far to support our way of living. Watching him days and nights drive tears down my cheeks and gave me the guilty feeling that I despise. I confessed my guilt to my father but, 'this is my duty to be done as a father, you have yours', was what he said, I couldn't do anything other than respect what he has told me, to accomplish my duty as a student and as a son.

Every weekend he would take the whole family to the park to spend some quality time. On Fridays and Saturdays my father would wake me up at four when the sun was below the horizon, I'd find it quite uncomfortable waking up this early, but my father would have his reason and it was to make sure I fulfil my duties as a Muslim, something which my father will always reminds me of and something I will always remember him for, a caring loving father. But there was more to him than what I have mentioned, a father who can become a friend to his son and a father at the same time. It took me a whole vacation for me to realize why a father is a father and why I couldn't ask for a better one than whom I already have and this is the story...

Summer was about to commence as my foot was about to exit the school gate, excitement filled my mind and my imagination began to run. My father had already planned a vacation for me and my family and was hoping that it would be a summer to remember. It didn't take long for me to have another conversation with my father about the things that I did wrong. A little history, ever since I reached puberty my bad habits begin to grow and every single of these 'habits' my father kept nagging me until I stopped, either its 'forgetting' to turn off the bathroom lights or 'accidentally' tangled the cables in my room but for me all this was not 'a big deal' and I disliked the way he lectures me. Many debates have happened between me and my dad, all were the same with me losing at the end and couldn't do anything about it but even then I knew I was being disrespectful towards the man who has done more than I could imagine, for his family.

We arrived in Indonesia slightly before the clock struck midnight but my eyes couldn't rest until it was four in the morning. The next morning I found myself sleeping in the middle of the family reunion, not all of my family was there, is soon come to realize that my father was nowhere to be found but I knew why. The family that was having a reunion was from my mother's side and none from my fathers. Another history about my family where it involves almost every member I know in my family tree, a feud runs between my father's side of the family and my mother's side of the family reason being both sides contain a total opposite characteristic but I despised this kind of relationship because I am neutral in this case but my father received the heavier pressure of all as that he is leading two families, the one he made with my mother and the one he was born in and this was another part in which I cannot bear, the situation my father was in, how he takes the responsibilities of both families, the way he supports everyone he truly cares about no matter how much or how long he struggles and as for me, I feel like a fool in the middle, realizing what is occurring and yet has nothing to show, nothing to do to show my feelings towards what is happening and I was a fool but all I can do was to bear with the painful feeling within.

Days fly when you're having fun they say and from what I experienced, it does. I was shocked to realize that my vacation was already half way through but I should've known how much fun I have had with my entire family, how much valuable experience they gave me. But what I had to remember most was how my father was able to give us yet another opportunity to laugh together and to smile together. Every precious minute I spent with my family was all thanks to the man who has support me since my birth. But yet I never show my appreciation, never realize the unfairness I had towards my father, until the last day when I came to my senses. Time was up and it pained me to say goodbye after all the good times I had, after all my family has done for me. It makes it difficult and frustrating but it had to be done after all. Good things do not last forever my father reminded me. Before the goodbyes there was one last thing I am required to accomplish.

I discovered my father standing by the pool beside my grandmother's house; I could tell the reason why he has separated himself from the others, I was the first to realize that my father has noticed that he has not been appreciated much by his own family; he was like a man staring down on a grave and I could not stand what I was looking at anymore and called out to him. I approached my father, then and started to confess my appreciation. I knew he was now filled with happiness by the tears that crawls down his rough cheeks and I couldn't help but did the same, we both exchanges hug filled with warmth and comfort with me saying 'I'm sorry' .

After all the emotional moments, we head back to where the gathering was with me now feeling comfortable towards my father. I soon exchanged hugs with all my family that I was about to leave behind, droplets of rain started to appeared. It was indeed a memorable vacation for me to look back and say 'the day that was filled with joy and sadness, the day to always remember and the day I realize how I was so happy, how I realize my source of joy, my source of success and my source of support was from my family and mostly...my father', this made me discovered the true definition of a father and why I couldn't ask for a better one than whom I already have................

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My Father

By: Hamad Al Fakhri

What are the things that make a dad special? Taking care of his children and making sure his children do good things? Should he make his children be happy, and buy for them video games, toys or a motorcycle or a bike? Does a dad have to take his family to a nice vacation in other countries that they have never seen? My father does these things for me, but these are not the reasons that make him special to me. My father is special to me because he tells me the rules, he is the leader of the family, and he teaches me about the future.

First, my father is special to me because he tells me the rules. He tells me the good rules like showing respect and making good decisions such as not to speak bad things, to listen to the teacher and not to fight. If I did something wrong he will speak to me such as sometimes I fight with my brother. For example, we are punching in the middle of the house but he is younger and I let him cry. My father comes by and will stop the fight and he will talk to us asking, "Why so you fight?" He tells me don't smoke and don't trust big people so he makes sure I know the rules. My father told me the rules because he wants me to be like him. He shows respect, is kind and he always helps people. I respect my father very much. For example, my dad has taught me when I went to the Majliss I had to say "hello". Then I have to shake the people hands and I have to touch my nose to their nose because it is showing respect in Qatari culture.

In addition, my father is special to me because he teaches me about the future. Once last summer at 9 pm I was sitting in the Majliss. The Majliss is a place in the house where the men sit and talk. I was watching TV, and then my father came in. He was telling me what I am going to be in the future. He said, "Hamad, you are my biggest son, some day you will be the same as me, an adult, who will be the leader of the family and you will get a job."

I felt happy and I told him, "I am going to try to be the same as you and I will help you, and you and me will travel together". My father felt happy and he said, "You are my best son because you work hard in school and you are never absent. I hope someday you will go to an American college and study for four years." I said, "I hope I get good grades in school so I can get a good job in the future. Thank you dad, for telling me about the future." "You will have a nice future," replied my father. When I went to bed that night, my father had gone back to the Majliss to be with his friends. I could not sleep, I was thinking about what I was going to do with my future. I felt very happy and I was thankful for my father.

Also, he is the leader of the family. He told us what to put in the house and what not. Cats are ok to be our pet but dogs are not because dogs are dirty. In my culture, we think dogs were dirty because they eat bad things and their smell is bad, but some people like dogs. Last summer vacation I was thinking to buy a dog but I asked my father he said 'no' because people feel sick about dogs. If I touch it I must wash my hands seven times because dogs are dirty and sometimes I get sick from it. Also, my father brought for us food so we can cook it and eat it. He brings for us games like World of War craft, but not many times just if he sees my report card with good grades like over 90%. But I hope this year I get full A's on my report card because I want him to be happy and buy for me games like video games that I really like it or really want. I always understand my father's words and do what he tells me to do, like if he said, "go study for the test". I study like 3 hours. In the next day I know what to do in the test and it's easy to solve it. My father teaches me the hard problems that I don't know or the ones I had a problem with it. That is why my father must be the leader of the family so he can help all of us with many problems and other things. I think it's a very hard life to be a father.

So, you can see, my father is special to me because he told me the rules, he is the leader of the family and he teaches me about the future. Also he raises money for the family to have a great life and nice life. He teaches his sons and lets them go to school. So when the father grows older his son will be the leader of the family. Also his son would like to take his father to a nice vacation so his son will remember what his father did for him in the past. He took care of him and he helped him with many problems when he was small. He helped him with many problems like math problems and other subject like English. He had to teach him very well for the problems that he did not understand. He bought for his son things that he really likes or he really wants. Sometimes my father teaches me how to hunt and how to swim. In the future his son gets a good job so he became an adult and buys a car and house. That's why my father is special to me.

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Why My Dad is Special to Me

By: Hamad Al Thani

Dictionary.com says that the definition of a father is "a male parent". To me, my father is someone I love, someone I trust, and someone to listen to. He is more than just a dad. My father is special to me due to the fact that he taught me how to hunt, gave me more knowledge, and travelled a lot of places with me.

One reason my father is special to me is because he taught me how to hunt. It was 2010 march in Saudi Arabia desert. I, my father, my uncle and my cousins were going to Saudi in a car and we travelled for 4 hours. At last we were at the tent. My father and I were walking on a hill when we found a drum. He said, "Hamad, take my gun." Then I was like, "no no," he said "Don't be afraid, I'll help you." I said, "Well I'll try." First my father shot. Then he gave me the gun he said, "Try to shoot." I aimed it was not good. I was still nervous, but he said "good job, don't worry, and let's move on."

The second reason my father is special to me is because he taught me how to read the Koran. The Koran is a book that has good things to say and it tells us what happened a long time ago. I read it at night time and noon but most of the time I read it at night. It tells us true stories and it is for Muslims. It is in English or in Arabic or other languages.

Most of the time my mother help me because sometimes my father goes to work and he was the one who taught me how to read little books and stories. I thank him because he also taught me how to spell, not only in English but also in Arabic.

When I was small my father and mother told me about the Koran and how it is important to our religion. He also taught me everything about Qatar at my home. My father is special because he keeps our family together and I love it when my father is teaching me. He reads and then I read; he spends a lot of time with me and my sisters and my mother. Now you see why my father is special to me. He keeps our family together and I love it when he is teaching me.

My third reason for my father being special is because we travelled a lot of places. He took me alone to Dubai and I had fun because my sisters were in Qatar. My father and I went to good restaurants and he bought me video games because I got a good grade in school, this was a good surprise. Sometimes I felt like I wanted my sisters to be with us, sometimes not! Because sometimes she's like, "Take me there, let's go there." The places she wants to go, I hate. So that's why my father took me to Dubai because I can pick anything I want. Sometimes I want my big sister to go with us because I like to go out with her in City Center. But sometimes not because, she goes for a lot of shopping!

I remember, my father bought me a video game and I really appreciated that. And the restaurants he has taken me to are great. One was a Lebanese restaurant and I was talking to my father about hunting. I felt thankful for what he has done to help us have fun.

Once we went to special museums from other countries. The first museums were in London. We went to one of the museums about Earthquakes and another one about dinosaurs. When my father was with us he explained things to me and my sisters. The Chicago museum is marvellous. It's about trains and the environment. He took us to Disney world and Universal Studios in Orlando- Florida with my sisters and mother.

My father walks fast in Disney and the weather was hot and he says "Yalla!" Yalla means faster or come on. I'm like sweating then we went on a scary ride called Tower of Terror. My two sisters were afraid of the ride so they did not ride it. My father stayed with them. I appreciated my father taking me travelling like this.

Now you see why I love my father because he taught me how to hunt, he gave me knowledge and he travelled lots of places with me. Because of my father I know many things, he taught me to be a good listener, a good thinker and to follow instruction. He taught me about the Koran and how to read stories. He has taken me many different places and he taught me many different things.

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The Colour of My Soul

By: Hanan Said

Do you ever wonder what colour your soul is? I know my dad's, it's a deep shade of dark brown that glimmers amber under the sun. Your soul reflected your attitude; my dad's attitude was liberal and perceptive, what was a better colour than brown to embody his personality. However I know the colour of my soul as well and it's dark almost pitch black except for the fact that if you looked extremely close there was a tiny tint of faint colour. You ask me how I know my dad's soul colour. Well aren't your eyes the mirrors to your soul?

I'd heard that bizarre statement first on TV, when I was twelve and now at fourteen, I still couldn't interpret the meaning of it. I inspect my reflection; fill my hands again with water and splash my face for the second time getting my shirt sodden wet but my face clean. Who came up with that statement anyway? And how did they conclude the fact that eyes were mirrors to your soul? Did they for instance see the colour of their soul? I'd asked my dad about the meaning of the illogical statement - however all I'd obtained from him was that there were more things in your eyes then just the iris colour- although he did not specify what.

It was only 2 pm and no one was home yet, I heated my lunch and slowly swallowed a mouthful at a time glancing at the kitchen clock as the hands reluctantly inched forward, even though I would've rather done something more productive- such as homework- rather than wait for my mom and dad's arrival. But what I had to tell my dad couldn't be delayed much longer than this day it was unnecessary pressure living every day, your own dad not knowing you anymore.

"Oh Hanan you are an absolute photocopy of your father."

"Yes Hanan - the cardiologist of the family." That is what three quarters of my family never failed to note every time they saw me, along with the constant reminder that my father had coincidentally wanted to be a cardiologist as well, and how it was all meant to be - the father fails - however sees his long lost dreams in his daughter - who also happens to look overwhelmingly like him. They would smile a thin lipped smile, shake their head at the bewilderment and mutter strange things about destiny and the repetition of history. I'd beamed proudly at my family when they point out the resemblance between us my motivation exceeding its limits and stimulating me to do whatever it took to achieve my ultimate goal-becoming a heart surgeon, which was also slowly changing to my ultimate nightmare.

My favourite teacher in school once said: "The older you grow the more you realize how much you don't know." There wasn't a better saying or a better way to phrase the dilemma I was currently residing in. Wasn't being a heart surgeon all about cutting through people's chest with a knife taking out their heart fixing whatever problem they had whether it was stitching a cut with a needle and thread, putting a plaster on the injury, simply scrubbing the wound off the heart with disinfectant and placing it right back inside the ribs, or just swapping the patient's ruined heart with a brand new one either from another human or - pig. It was simple and the fun part was that you got tons of money! Dead wrong!

This is what I found out later on, you were expected to pass secondary education with an excellent record, compete between students who are dogged into entering medical school and you could lose a spot by just a fraction of a percentage. You also had to study for a lengthy and demanding 9 years - the life span of a hamster that had died and reincarnated to live another two lives.  
The door bell rang, my mom entered still in her sunglasses while my dad follows closely behind her, his eyes had creasy lines at the side like scrunched coffee paper, and his goatee was speckled with silver flecks of hair that aged him significantly for forty four years old. His suit was peculiarly not as taut as usual on his potbelly. They both spoke animatedly about their day's work, laughing at an incident or passing each other advice or opinions. I cringed at the thought of ruining this meal, not to my mom - not really, she wasn't as excited about the idea of cardiology as my dad yet supported me nevertheless. However I didn't know what to expect from my dad.

"Um, Dad, can you listen for a minute it's very important."

"Yes?" He didn't sound like he was in a state of getting shocked by any news so I proceeded directly.

"I don't want to be a heart surgeon anymore." Much easier to say than I had anticipated, and he did not look like he wanted to strangle me! Good.

"Why?" an eleven was drawn in the middle of his forehead. Not good?

"It doesn't interest me anymore."

"Hmmm." With his aging weathered veiny hands he picked up his cup of orange juice. That is when I started to prattle.

"You know when I graduate in 2014 okay, and I study for so long to become a heart surgeon and I study and study for almost a decade and my hair thins, fuzzes and turns like Albert Einstein because of all the hard-work than because it will be 2024 in the age of technology and mechanics. Just when I actually start to operate as an official surgeon do you know what will happen?"  
I didn't even wait for an answer he stood up from his chair, pulled of his glasses and rubbed his eyes, another feature I'd inherited from my dad was his glasses. "I will be replaced by a robot." It was probably the worst message I had ever transmitted to my parents and the most unreasonable. He probably thought of me as silly and not even fit to study cardiology what with thoughts and opinions like mine, I was better off working as lollipop lady - why was it awfully difficult for me to just take a moment of consideration before blathering incoherently.

He started to laugh. He laughed a deep booming chortle that sounded more like roaring, undeniably not what I had in mind.

"Who told you, you wanted you to be a heart surgeon anyway? It was entirely your decision, I merely supported you. You don't owe me an explanation to why you've lost interest. These things happen to everyone. You think you want something but then you realize it's not what you really want. Of course I did really want you to become a heart surgeon but only because I thought you wanted it."

My eyes widened with wonder, my ears perked and my eyebrows rose as the rock that burdened my belly for a long time now melted away. His eyes were liquidly from laughing heartily and glowed amber from the sunlight that flooded from the window. I continued sitting even after my dad had left to pray.

"Hanan, you're a lot like your father." I looked at my mom who'd been listening to my dad and me in conversation without saying a single word. No, I wasn't like him anymore his dream was to become a cardiologist and mine wasn't.

"How?"

"He quit wanting to be a heart surgeon because he realized he didn't want to, and said the exact same thing to his father about the robots being the surgeons in the future, you would've been less like him if you'd actually continued and became a cardiologist."

My dad's colour eyes were dark brown- his soul; liquidly amber. I know now that the colour of your soul is not the colour of your irises rather it's that rare glimmer of light- when you're in high spirits, the flicker of shadow-when you mourn, or when the sun rays pour through your lenses in the presence of the people you love most. It was that colour that appears and vanishes when profound emotions envelope you.

"Speak of the devil and he'll appear," I raised an eyebrow at my dad as he stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Except in my case it's angel, I heard everything you said." My mom faked disbelief.

"I didn't know angels eaves dropped, how very un-angel like," My dad and I laughed, warm sun rays flooded from the red curtains of the kitchen's windows and I caught a glimpse of my reflection faint amber swiftly flashes in my eyes before disappearing-the colour of my soul. I excused myself - smiling happily to myself. My dad a wonderful father had an amber coloured soul that suited his personality, and I was just like him.

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..........

If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

............

My Relationship With My Father

By: Haneen Muhanna

Since the moment I opened my eyes, the first person I saw was my Dad. That day he was so handsome, proud, happy and so gentle and in the last 19 years, nothing has changed. I look up to him and he looks at me with the same love.

My Dad has always been the epitome of what a man should be. He is full of compassion, strength, gentleness, firmness, understanding and above all, a man of values.

I consider myself so blessed because I can't think of a way I could improve upon my relationship with my father, except for perhaps by spending more time with each other. I have always been close with my Dad, and as each year I grow I find that I am becoming more and more like him, which makes me happy.

My father has taught me to have strong moral, values, personal responsibility, honesty and trust. He has shown me how to be compassionate and to be a respectful person in life. He taught me the value of education, and how to make good decisions in life. While he showed me how to have fun to laugh, he also has taught me the meaning of hard work, and the meaning of love. He did this by being a nurturing father, coach, a firm disciplinarian, along with being a loving parent.

My father has always been there to share with me moments of joy and times of hardship. He has generously given me his personal time, so that I may grow up to face this challenging world full of courage, hope, and faith. My father is not perfect and like every human, he has his faults, struggles, and weaknesses. He taught me, however, how to face these problems and challenges with a positive attitude and a strong will. These examples and the memories I have shared with my father will be everlasting and have a positive influence on my life like no other.

Although we're always scraping by through hard times in Gaza, we always seem to get through it. Our family is unified, we work together nurturing our love to keep it positive and in full force against any opposing force that would tear down our family unit. We are a very close family woven together by difficult times, learning from our experiences and pursuing peace and harmony.

I believe I need to keep forgiveness strong, peace active, love appropriated, and strength exercised. I pray god to give my father the will to pull through these rough times and be blessed for his love, strength and wisdom.

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My Dad

By: Hanis Haznina Hasnizam

My father, what can I say about this man? There are so many words to use to describe him and so many stories to tell. But yet, up till now I never know the perfect sentence to fully describe him perfectly. People say I'm a chip of the old block. We are alike, but also different. We have different point of views in things and we have different ways of doing things, but we have the same aim and determination. What we want is to be successful in life and make a difference, a good one. But for me I think he already does that. I'd rather use the word dad than father because I heard once, this saying and it said; "Everyone can be a father but not everybody can be a dad." I think we all can relate and agree with this. I know I can.

My dad works in the HR department and his job is to find people and interview them. He decides then whether they are good enough for the position or job they are interviewing for and give them a green light if they are suitable for it, or if they deserve it. You might not realise this but if you take some time and think, you'll realise that he's not just giving people their jobs that they deserve. From the way I see it, he gives them a new hope, a breath of fresh air to start a new page for themselves and their families. He's like the shimmer of light that gives the lost soul a path to redeem them and get to where they want to go, just a small glimmer of light, but enough to turn the person's situation around or give them something to hold on to.

His job requires him to travel a lot. This is something brilliant because it's like killing two birds with one stone; he gets to travel around the world, meet new people and experiencing new things, as well as, at the same time doing his job. What he does has always inspired me, travelling around the world, getting a brief sight of people's lives and touching it along the way. He does make differences. Yes, small ones but sometimes when it's too hard to make huge, big differences, it's better to make smaller differences than doing nothing.

My dad obviously wasn't born in an all easy and wealthy family. As a child he had to strive, struggle, seek, search and stay strong to get what he wanted. What he wanted, I presume, was to get a good education so he could get somewhere in the future because without a decent education, the chances of making it work in life is thin and little. This really tells me that education is one of the most important things in your life because you can't really go anywhere without it.

On his past life, I even existed. He went through some hard times and phases. When my dad was about fourteen years old, the worst nightmare happened to him. It is the kind of nightmare that terrifies everyone, regardless of ages. His mother died in a car accident. I didn't know her and I didn't really know it was a big deal; losing someone you love and never getting to see that person again until I experienced it myself. Of course it was the most horrible feeling ever and this made me think of how he got through all his life without his own mother. How painful that might felt. It is unfortunately very heartbreaking.

As time gone by he accepted it and moved on and it made him stronger and the man he is today. This really inspires me in a whole new different light because it shows me how strong he was and was becoming, he did not let anything in the world to stop him and he showed me that as long as you have your faith and keep your eyes on the price, you'll soon get what you we're aiming at. He has been independent for all his life and still is. Everybody who knows him knows that. He never really asks anyone for a profession and he doesn't depend on anybody. Nobody held his hand throughout every dreadful moment but he didn't seem to mind.

Sometimes I have daydreams of him getting hit by an old yellow taxi driven by old people. Not enough to kill or hurt him but enough to break a finger or two, but at the end of the day I'll always cherish every moment I have with him and always respect him. He has been in my life forever and I mean it figuratively as well as literally. He has been my role model before I even knew it and I hope he'll always be there to see me succeed in life like him and make my dreams come alive.

It's never easy loving me and it gets so complicated and hard. Thought he never tells me this, I know if I fall somehow he will always be there for me with open arms to catch and save me. He teaches me about life, the good things from the bad. Every day he teaches me to love life and appreciate what you have because there are not many people as lucky same and having him as a dad is also a part of why I'm so lucky. It's hard to understand me but he miraculously knows how to.

I do not want to write the four letter word next because it goes without saying, most things I do goes without saying but it's alright because I know he knows what is in my heart. Daddy, having you in my life is the best gift I received from God and I was born to love you. I know it is crazy everyday with me, considering the things I put you through but it'll be worth it one day and I promise I'll make you proud.

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I Remember...

By: Heba Sajid Amin

Dear Dad,

I know that this may not be the greatest thing I can do to express what I feel about all the love and support you have given me throughout my life; but, I think, contributing in a book like this will reflect my feelings and respect for you and for your unconditional love.

I cannot think of any other person more graceful, more respectable, more admirable and friendlier than you who have been playing the special role of a superhero in my life. You, with grey hair so attractive and a graceful addition to your personality with your specs—which you started wearing more often in the last 10 years, make you look more professional, intellectual and very stylish, Dad.

I remember all those summers, when the air conditioner of our car was out of order, you would still work all day long – just to give us all a better future, choosing to ignore the fact that this could create problems for your health.

I remember you ignoring your needs, just so that you could give more attention to ours!

I remember you ignoring your health issues—giving our fevers, coughs and colds more importance then your tiredness, your sickness.

I can't think of another man in my life other than you as my real life hero who has walked with me through so many critical situations. Though this may sound as if I am talking to you about a movie, this is the truth; and, if I were to write about all those times, I would certainly run out of words.

I still remember every single day of my school and college years, when you made a habit of asking me everything, giving me the chance to tell you all my stories. I remember how you always showed whole-hearted interest in them. I remember myself repeating all my stories and you would still continue to ask me the little details of my school and college life. You would encourage me to get involved in all the extracurricular activities and to pay attention to my studies as well.

I remember you answering all my weird questions after coming home from work every day.

I remember the times when you were so tired after work and still, you would take us all out for a ride, since you knew we had been waiting for you the whole day.

I still think that 1 Riyal ice-cream was the most precious and special outing treat for us when I was 8 years old.

I will never forget how I used to sneak into your room in the middle of the night because I was feeling scared and you would let me sleep next to your bed.

I remember how you appreciated the first cup of tea I made and how you rewarded me by giving me 10 Riyals– and that was one of the most special awards of my life.

I remember how you always said that you wanted the Almighty to give you more daughters. You always admired my achievements, efforts and encouraged me so as to attain my goals.

I remember how during my college life, I used to wake you up every morning so that you could drop me to the campus—and even though you were so tired and not willing to drive so early in the morning, you would still take me to the campus, with a graceful smile, reminding me to have my breakfast.

I consider you my Hero for killing all those cockroaches, spiders and other insects of which I was scared of and because of which I would not go into my room.

I consider you my role model for supporting me and my brothers in all aspects of our lives – as a friend, a guru, a companion, a teacher and most importantly as a Father.

I can't imagine how my life would have been without your support and love; without you and mom being there all the time, guiding us all towards the right path.

I still remember when you started choosing furniture for my room, making sure you chose the best things you could get.

I remember how you bought so many things for your children while forgetting to buy yourself something.

I remember you being so happy on the day of my graduation.

I consider your Patience—your best quality. As you would always say "Don't worry! Everything is going to be okay."

I remember you being concerned and worried about me, when I had an accident and the doctors had diagnosed me with a shoulder injury. I remember how you repeatedly called me on my 12-hour night and day shifts during my work term for Emergency Medical Services.

I remember how you used to come early in the morning to pick me up, driving slowly back home—so that I could take a nap on my way back home, feeling so comfortable!

I remember how you avoided smoking in front of me, because I am allergic to the smoke. Although I really want you to quit it, avoiding it most of the time for my sake is something that makes me feel so happy and I am sure that you will be quitting it soon.

I remember you guiding us through every aspect of our lives whether social, personal, spiritual or financial.

I might not be able to end this list. I might not be able to finish this letter ever. This can go on and on and I am overjoyed to share all these lovely little moments with the whole world. I don't think there is and will be a chapter in my life where I will not look up to you and ask myself how you, my dad, would have done it? Wouldn't you be calmer?

I can keep going on and on, sharing with you and the whole world all the times I have looked at you as my model. But for now, all I will say is: "You are my real life hero—my Super Hero"

With Love,

Your daughter

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My Father

By: Hiba Parveen

This person is the world to me and he is a person of great personality and thoughts. He has always been in my life, from the day I first opened my eyes to the present moment. This person has influenced me in my life and he is my one and only father. Yes.., His name is Abdul Kader and he came to Qatar to work as an Engineer. Persevering throughout his entire life, my father had fought through numerous obstacles to achieve what he is today. Determined, responsible, and dedicated are characteristics that my father inherits. These characteristics helped my father endure through all of the challenges that he has faced. He was truly one in a million and I'm so lucky to have him as my dad.http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Ffilestore.nimbuzz.com%2FYWLTBhhC&h=3af73

I still remember the day when I was 4 years old. I was so naughty in my childhood days. I just had a small baby sister at that time. My parents, sister, and I went for shopping. When I was walking in the shopping mall, my eyes attracted to a cute baby doll in a wheelchair. I told my parents about it, but they rejected to buy it because the price was too costly. I started crying for the doll and my mother was trying to comfort me by her compassionate words. I still cried badly. My father accepted to buy it and I was too happy about it. My father knew that the price was too costly, but he managed to buy it just for me. I thanked him with my full heart. I love my dad a lot.

The days with my father are just enjoyable. From the first day of my kindergarten to this very day, he reminds me to always "work hard at my studies." Everything I have been able to accomplish with regards to school, I have to thank him. Throughout my life, my father has been responsible, caring, strict in his guidelines, and yet understanding of the difficulty of being a teenage girl.

I still remember the heart rending experience I had with my dad when I was 13 years old. On November 7, 2009 my father went for training in Italy. My mother, brother, sister and I were alone at home. Unexpectedly, I got asthma and was admitted to the hospital. My father was so much worried about me. He cancelled the training and came back to Qatar. I was so depressed about it. He sat near me and whispered "I love you, Hiba" as he clutched my hand with teardrops rolling out of his bright black eyes. I hugged him with my full heart. This day was an unforgettable memory which still prevails in my heart and I know it will prevail forever.

Whenever I learn my school lessons, I ask an infinite number of doubts to my dad. I become so much impressed about his answers. I sometimes ask him "Where do you learn all these things?" His usual response is "It comes from reading." He taught me that reading is a doorway to an infinite realm of knowledge, and that the best kind of knowledge also comes, not from reading, but from experience. These valuable words have changed my life a lot.

On February 16, 2010 we were packing up for a trip to Sea line Beach in Qatar. I was so much excited, even my siblings; we were helping our parents to pack up. Suddenly I heard a noise from the Bedroom. I went to the bedroom and saw my father had slipped and fallen down with a 'thud'. I went near him and called "Mom...Mom". My mother came rushing and she tried to put him on his feet. She cancelled the trip because my father's leg was swollen and was severely paining and we were all very sad but to my disappointment my father declined it and he said that we have to go to Sea line beach. "The greatest gift I have received from God is my children...So the joy of seeing them enjoying is what I love" he said hugging me and my siblings. I felt heavy at heart and thought aloud "Even he is the greatest gift I have ever received".

As I grew older, he became less involved with my education. With this independence I have started to peruse other curiosities, such as creating music, enrolling in science fair, and founding an environmental club. Though he has never bluntly rejected any pursuing interests of mine, he has however always instigated the simple question of "Will this help you go where you want in life?" This simple question has changed my perspective. With every choice I make I feel guilt and the pressure of my father's expectations. I feel confused, because I do not always know the answer to that question. However, I feel certain that if I put dedication into my commitments, like my father did, success is bound to happen in some form or another. I do not have to struggle myself out of poverty, rather I have to struggle my way into my niche in life.

**I have lots of future choices and I decided not to become an ordinary Engineer who works to make a living, but someone who makes a change for a better world. I once told my science teacher that I want to make a change. She replied "to better or to worse" and she laughed, however, my father supported me and he said that to take it as a motivation and to prove the whole world what you are. I was so happy that at least one person is there to support me and that's my dad.**

His teachings are pillars and signs that will help me in the long journey. My dad will be there throughout my life; when the people see my remarkable success one day, they will know the value of his teachings. He taught me everything about life; hope, faith and the long journey ahead. To me he is the greatest hero.

Since the softness of my skin, my father has taught to never give up and to hold on to what I believe in, and to thank God no matter what state I might be in. My father is a simple man but he has a great impact on me. I love my father a lot.

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I Am Glad... I Have My Dad

By: Hinna Mehaboob

Nothing is as pure as parents' love. They give away everything in life for the well-being of their children, and yet they do not expect anything out of it but love. Parents know you the best, and I doubt if there is anyone who knows you better. Parents have a great deal of involvement in influencing you and shaping your character. Moreover, my father influenced me the most. The one trait, which always outshines in him, is his Positive Attitude, which always craves me to seek something better every time I lose.

I can still remember the day when I sat in my room weeping over some competition I lost, "The world's not going to end tomorrow, you've still got chances and don't let this put you down, instead let this be one step towards success", these were his consoling words. I felt better after that and never did let my weakness overcome me. His encouragement for every small little improvement I make has always made me feel that there is at least one person I can trust.

There have been many points in life, were I felt that I was irritating and disturbed me a lot. Whenever I shared these thoughts with my dad, he always had a well-prepared answer, he plainly suggested that I should be keeping these thoughts out my mind and surprisingly said that I always made him proud. This extraordinarily comforting remark always made me beam with pleasure.

This has always brought us closer and has made our bond grow deeper. During the never ending battles between me and myself, my father is the superhero who comes to my rescue. He always lends a supportive hand when I am in trouble or is afraid of getting through it and helps me emerge like phoenix bird leaving behind all my problems. Ever growing circle of friends has made him unique in his own way. His way of making friends wherever he goes helps me make friends at school. A huge mass of friends at school has helped me overcome my drawbacks and become popular. He taught me how to choose the right friend and not to fall into bad company.

Nevertheless, these qualities only had gradual change in my life -- there is one story which happened long back and had changed my life in a sudden instant.

We [mom, sister, dad and me] were in our native place in India for the summer vacation. I was six at that time and was having a splendid time with my cousins. My sister was just one year old and we all had great pleasure in seeing her shaky walks. I used to spend all my evening hours with my sister when I could not go out. We were at my uncle's and we children were busy playing. We had no idea where the adults were until mealtime yet I always found my father missing, but I could easily forget the discomfort with tempting food on table.   
One night I found myself searching for my father for a silly doubt that had stuck in me for a while. I searched the whole house for him and found him cuddling the blanket over his sleeping mother. She had a slight smile on yet I could see the intensity of satisfaction on her face. I guessed that dad must have had a soothing and entertaining talk with her before she had gone to sleep. I was surprised and I was carried away by thoughts until my father interrupted "what is it darling... why are you crying" I had not noticed that tears were trickling down my cheeks. "Nothing" that was the only thing I could choke out, and then I ran out of the room.

That day I could not think about anything else. I have always seen my mother making my bed but never have I seen the other way round.

Time went flying and vacations were approaching its end and it was time for me to say goodbye. My grandmother kissed us all goodbye. Her eyes were filled with tears every year at such times but today I knew it had a deeper meaning. She was cared like a child; she was young for some time.

That day my father taught me the true meaning of love. Moreover, the kind of comfort it offers, even my little head could guess the amount of love my father had received from my grandmother. I could see my father's tough eyes filled with tears...That year I made a successful cake for my father on father's day to show my gratitude. However, He thought it was special and yummy. Even though I knew, the cake tasted horrible he ate it without complaining except for slight wincing while swallowing.

I cannot imagine a life without him as a guide light to show me what is wrong and right and making sure, I do not slip and fall along this long winding path of life. If I could ever grow, up to his expectation and make him even more proud. Then I do not think there is anything, which I can take credit on. If he has ever heard me humming a song which he had no track of lyrics, then I would to say that he was the song I sang......even if I forget the lines the tune is ALWAYS beating my heart.

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My Father, My Model

By: Hisham Hussain

"When a father gives to his son, both laugh; when a son gives to his father, both cry."

William Shakespeare

These words of the great poet and dramatist William Shakespeare illustrate the relationship between father and son. When a father loves his son, both enjoy it; but when the son returns this love to his father through his actions, both are overcome by emotions and cry.

I think what William Shakespeare said is true. It shows the importance of respecting and loving one's father.

My father is a man of extremes -- on one side; he is very loving, caring and intelligent. But on other, he is tough, unorganized and sometimes lazy.

Once, he had the chance to fly in a helicopter. He is a journalist and went to the Halul Island to attend the inauguration of a new plant built by Qatar Petroleum there in 2004. I was five years old when this happened. When he came back and explained his experience of flying in a helicopter, I was excited. I too wanted to go with him.

He said that he would take me next time. And till today, I haven't flown in a helicopter. And I hope, I too will get a chance to fly in a helicopter in future.

This incident is still fresh in my mind. I want to fly high in life. He has kindled my ambitions.

Being a journalist and writer, my father is thoughtful all the time. He is a very busy man. Sometimes I have to remind him things three or four times. I remember, I had to remind him to buy me a new notebook for a month!

This has taught me that I should be more organised and punctual in my life.

You take the best from your father and leave the rest.

My father never forces me to do anything. He wants to me to cultivate my talent. During free time, we both enjoy watching TV or going out. He helps me in my co-curricular activities.

My father is my role model. When I grow, I want to be like my father. It is not easy to come up to his expectations. But I will try. At the same time, he has given absolute freedom to be what I am.

This story took place in Amman the capital of Jordan on the first of august 1964, it was one of the happiest days ever for the young couple (Ahmad and his wife), on that day they had their third child (Hammoudeh), they had a twin before but the twin died so they were so happy for having him.

Years passed and they both had 3 more children (two girls and another boy) they were a happy of Hammoudeh and his siblings who were born after him.

For a full six years they almost had the perfect life, until that day-- August 1970, the day that changed all of the happy family's life, an internal war was happening outside.

The sound of bombs, Tanks and machine guns was terrifying the poor little kids and their mother.

As humans the family had to eat, so their father (Ahmad) went out to buy food and some house needs.

The innocent little kid and their mother waited so long for him (Ahmad) to come back home safely with something to eat.

As they were waiting, suddenly someone has knocked the door in a scary way, The mother opened the door and one of their relative came in with a very sad expressions on his face, He took few seconds to calm down then told them that Hammoudeh's Father (Ahmad) will never come back again.

Minutes of silence took over the place until the mother started crying but the little kids were wondering what does that mean. Their mother told them hardly that their father (Ahmad) died. The little kids started crying too. Their mother tried to ease it on them and on herself by reminding them that their father is going to a better place that is heaven.

It was shocking news for them because they lost a great father and their only supporter.

The family was so sure that it's not going to be easy for them especially for their mother for having 4 little kids and for the older son (Hammoudeh) with no one to care of them. No one for the kids to play with; it was like they lost their other half.

They found themselves alone in a world full of challenges, in a world that only men can survive in.

As they were trying hard to move on in life, they came across that they have not only lost their Father but also a financial supporter for the family. It was not very common and easy for a woman to get work back in those days, but she didn't lose hope and refused to stay helpless. She started sewing clothes while staying at home. The Mother's family tried their very best to support Hammoudeh's Family but it was not enough for them.

As Hammoudeh was the eldest one among children, his school was going to start in a couple of days. Although he did not wanted to go, but still he had to as education was the second most important requirement and need of life after food.

Years passed, and the family was finding it very difficult to run the house with the Mother's family's financial support and from the Mother's own income. They decided to open a small market, thinking that this might help them fulfilling their needs. Now Hammoudeh and Yahya were also grown and so they started working in different places so that they can earn some money to help and support the family.

Time passed, and Hammoudeh finished his final year of the school and was waiting for his final results. He was tensed and nervous, because if he passed all the exams he could further easily continue his studies but if he didn't pass the exams, he would feel like a looser for the rest of his life. Finally, the big day was here – the result was out, and he was so happy to see that he passed in all the examinations. He thought of applying for Marine Engineering in Yemen but that was quiet expensive and unaffordable for the family. So he decided to apply for Agriculture Science as it was easier for the family to pay the tuitions. He started manage between work and studies equally so that he can still support the family.

In 1986 he graduated as an agriculture engineer and he was so happy, his mother too, because he was the first graduate son for her.

After graduating it was time to find a job in his study field, he looked so hard until he found a low payment job, but he knew if he wants to build his career and be successful that he must work very hard.

A year and few months passed and Hammoudeh was working very hard to build himself, his mother told him that it's time for him to get married. He agreed with her and he got married in 1990.

In the first year of his marriage his wife got pregnant and he had an opportunity to work abroad but it was their first child so it was a confusing decision but he choose to move and went to work abroad.

In 1991 they had their first child, they called him Mohammad and they were so happy of him, they wanted to have another baby because they believed that it was a gift from God. Time passed and his wife got pregnant, after 9 months they had their second child and it happened to be me, Huthaifa. After having two sons, opportunities in life were coming to him, he got a job in a big company here in Jordan.

For few years he worked hard to build his life and to give his family the best life, the life that he couldn't have when he was young because of the tragedy that happened to his family and I think he succeeded in providing that life for us.

In early 2010 he had quit his job after 14 years of working for the same company, but the reason was to give even a better life for his family and he has been working of opening his own company, lately he started his company.

Now am almost 18 years old. I wrote this story to honour a great man, who has built his life from nothing to be a successful man.

I don't think that he knows that, but I respect him and appreciate him for everything he has done in his life and in ours too.

I dedicate this poem I read on the internet to all fathers in the world.

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..........

If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

............
Hammoudeh's Story

By: Huthaifa Hammoudeh

This story starts in Amman the capital of Jordan on the first of August 1964. It was one of the happiest days ever for the young couple Ahmad and his wife. On that day they had their third child – Hammoudeh. They had twins before but the twins had died so they were really happy for having him. Years passed and they both had three more children - two girls and another boy.

For a full six years they almost had the perfect life, until that day- August 1970, the day that changed their life upside down. An internal war was happening outside their doorsteps.

The sound of bombs, tanks and machine guns was terrifying to the poor little kids and their mother. Since as humans the family had to eat, their father went out to buy food and some groceries needed at home.

The innocent little kids and their mother waited so long for him to come back home safely with something to eat. As they were waiting, suddenly someone started banging on the door. The kids were really scared. The mother opened the door and one of their relative came in with a very sad expression on his face, He took few seconds to calm down, and then told them that the father will never come back again.

Minutes of silence took over the place until mother started crying, but the little kids were wondering what was happening. Their mother told them that their father had died and the little kids started crying too. Their mother tried to console them and her by reminding everyone that their father was going to a better place that is heaven.

It was shocking news for them because they suddenly lost a great father and their only supporter.

The family was sure that it's not going to be easy for them, especially for mother, having four little kids, and also for the older son Hammoudeh with no one to care for them. There was no one for the kids to play with. It was as if suddenly their life had been torn into half.

They found themselves alone in a world full of challenges, in a world that only tough men could survive in.

As they were trying hard to move on in life, they realized that along with their father, they had also lost all sources of financial support for the family. It was not very common and easy for a woman to find work back in those days, but Mother didn't lose hope and refused to stay helpless. She started sewing clothes while staying at home. Mother's family tried their very best to support them, but this was not going to be enough.

Hammoudeh's school was going to start in a couple of days. Although he did not wanted to go, he realized that education was the second most important requirement and need of life after food.

Years passed by and the family was finding it very difficult to run the house with the financial support received from Mother's family and from her own income. They decided to open a small shop, thinking that this might help them fulfilling their needs. Now Hammoudeh and Yahya (his brother) were also grown and so they started working in different places so that they can earn some money to help and support the family.

Time passed, and Hammoudeh finished his final year of the school and was waiting for his final results. He was tense and nervous, because if he passed all the exams he could easily continue his further studies but if he didn't pass the exams, he would feel like a looser for the rest of his life. Finally, the big day arrived and the results were out, and he was so happy to see that he passed in all the subjects. He thought of applying for Marine Engineering in Yemen but that was quiet expensive and unaffordable for the family. So he decided to apply for Agricultural Science as it was easier for the family to pay the tuitions. He started managing between work and studies so that he could still support the family.

In 1986 he graduated as an Agricultural Engineer and he was so happy. His mother was overjoyed as he was the first son who graduated in the family. After graduating, it was time to find a job in his field of study. He searched hard until he found a low paid job. But he knew that if he wanted to build his career and be successful that he had to work really hard.

After a year and few months, his mother told him that it was time for him to get married he agreed with her suggestion and got married in 1990. In the first year of his marriage his wife got pregnant and he also received an opportunity to work abroad. But since it was their first child, he was confused on what to do. However he chose to move and went to work abroad. In 1991 they had their first child, they called him Mohammad and they were so happy of having him. His wife got pregnant again and after 9 months they had their second child Huthaifa (me). After having two sons, opportunities in life were coming to him, and he got a job at a big company here in Jordan.

For few years he worked hard to build his life and to give his family the best in life, the life that he couldn't have when he was young because of the tragedy that happened to his family and I think he was extremely successful in providing that life for us.

In early 2010 he quit his job after 14 years of working for the same company. He wanted to give a better life for his family and he had been working towards the opening of his own company. Very recently he started that company as well.

Now I am almost 18 years old as I write this story to honour a great man that has built his life from nothing, to be a successful man. I don't think that he knows it, but I respect him and appreciate him for everything he has done in his life and in ours too.

I dedicate this poem I read on the internet to all fathers in the world.

A Father like You

Written by Anonymous

I just want you to know  
you mean the world to me  
only a heart as dear as yours  
would give so unselfishly.

The many things you've done,  
all the times that you were there,  
Helps me know deep down inside  
how much you really care.

Even though I might not say it,  
I appreciate all you do  
so richly blessed is how I feel  
for having a father just like you.

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The Life Instructor

By: Imran Gaffur

Oh now here's an interesting little surprise – the train's late and it won't show up for another hour. More than a hundred years in service and yet, they hold on to their distinction of being extravagantly dilatory. Alright then, dilatory might be an overstatement but they ought to do something about it. Oh well, I guess there is no point venting out my frustration anymore now, my only choice is to just sit on the waiting seat and, well, wait.

It's a peculiar little place to be in, an Indian railway station. Much like staring at a lit fireplace, the sights and sounds dwelling in the realm of the railway station is, quite simply put – hypnotic. The ant-like marching of the commuters, the college kids going back home, newlyweds ready to conquer the world together, families on vacation, all tied together by the call of the station-vendors resonating in my ears. And so, as I delved into the somnolent world of the train station, a rough, husky voice reactivated my auditory senses.

"So where are you off to young lad?" he asked.

True to his intonation, he was a rough, husky man and looked like an army general in his mid-50s or something.

"To Karwar" I replied, rather comatosely that is.

Karwar, a tiny little coast town in Southern India, bordering Goa and Karnataka. Cut off from the vile, modern degradations like commercialization, industrialization and the like. Karwar is merely a simple town, with a simple lifestyle, followed by its simple residents. On one side, it is surrounded by a range of celestial mountains, breathing out mist and fog, and on the other, the Arabian Ocean – the life source of most of the people. However, it is not the alluring scenery and various unparalleled attractions that bring me to this place. There lives a certain someone in Karwar, a very special someone. A person that helped me ride my first bicycle to, a person never failed to tell me stories before I went to bed, he corrected my mistakes and assisted in learning from them, supported me during adversities and revelled when I succeed. He taught me everything there is to learn in life and I call him, dearly, as father-- My father.

So the conversation with Mr. Army General was going well. We talked about sports, food and had an analysis of the political situation, dipping a few philosophical statements wherever we could, impress the passer-by's who were listening to us. Eventually, my eyes darted towards the clock and there it was, oh my! The train is on time. I parted ways with the army general, still fresh and vigorous from the afterglow of my previous conversation, I boarded my compartment, took a deep breath of satisfaction and just like that, and I fell asleep on my seat.

Seven hours passed and the monotony of the engine was still ringing in my ears. However, the morning twilight was all the compensation I needed - a spectacular mélange of blue and yellow. It's one of those things that we Indians proudly proclaim as "Made in India". And then, rose from its bed – the sun. A lot like us, even the sun has that 'morning look' which we desperately try to hide. The sun does so, by cloaking itself behind a row of trees. Just like those in Jeddah.

Though I'm an Indian, I never really grew up in India; most of my childhood was spent in Saudi Arabia and my teenage years in Qatar. I remember, quite vividly those bus rides to school during my days as a kindergartener. Apparently, my stomach and the school bus never came to terms with each other. There was not a single day where I'd come back home without throwing up all over myself. So my father would take me to school, perpetually telling me stories so that I would not end up in a similar predicament as that I endure in the bus. Most of these tales were based on the movie 'Toy Story'. Buzz Light-year was my favourite character and whenever he walked me to my class, he would lift me up and allow me to take a few seeds from one of the many trees that grew next to my school. I don't know the name of the tree or what those seeds were called, but I do remember that if I ate them, I would get all of Buzz's powers. I did try eating the seeds once, and its taste was definitely not on the succulent side, it was almost like eating a dried up banana peel. Then again, I've grown up and I've taken lots of bus rides. Not even once did I throw up. That might because; I did get Buzz Light-years anti-throwing up powers.

I reached my destination and was welcomed by wonderful aroma of Karwari breakfast – dosas, idlis, sambar and a plethora or other hot, sizzling dishes. It's not all that different from the other South Indian food, but it has a certain touch to it that sets it apart from everywhere else. So I had my breakfast, got myself a taxi and went straight to my father's residence.

The streets were filled with fishermen, selling their day's hooked harvest. Then, there were the fruit and vegetable sellers equipped with their overflowing carts. Now, I still have my childhood abhorrence towards vegetables engraved deep within me, but it is only here, that I actually enjoy them, no exaggeration whatsoever. However, what really caught my eye, and, what always catch my eye were the school kids, on their way to cultivate their imagination. I've learned a lot of things in school, but there is one important element in life that my father has showed me, and that is to never, ever lie. I was in my 9th grade that time and being the brightest student in class was one of those few dreams that eluded me that year. Math gave me a lot of trouble and it was inevitable that I would, one day, end up with horrendous marks. When I did, I lied to my father saying that the correction was all wrong. It might have been somebody else's marks. I was never the craftiest person in the world and I was lucky that I was that way. He gave me a good scolding, he taught me the importance of honesty and hard work and sooner rather than later, I had improved tenfold. It was this philosophy of honesty that took me so far in life. It is that philosophy that brought me success. A cliché it may be, but honesty truly is the best policy.

And there it was the old house where my father grew up in. It has been renovated a few times, but that essence of homeliness still lingers on, intertwined with the smell of incense sticks. I got out of the cab, took my baggage and just as I was about to place my hand on the doorbell, my mother enthusiastically opened the door, kissed me on the forehead and fed me with a handful of sweets. He was right there behind her, with a newspaper in his right hand and a radiant smile on his face. I ran towards him, embraced him and muttered the words that he deserved to hear, for everything he has done for me, "I love you father".

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My Father – My Support

By: Iqbal Ahmad

My father is a great source of inspiration and enlightenment to me. Since the very beginning of my life, he taught me to never give up and to hold on to what I believe in, and to thank God no matter what state I might be in. Even today when I am in a very good position in my career life, this is due to his sacrifices and his efforts, which helped me in my life. He always encouraged us to study in any circumstances. He wanted me to receive the highest position of education. I have seen the time when he had no money to pay my school fees but despite all this, he worked hard for the betterment of our family. Besides this, he continued his education and after his Graduation, he did his L.L.B.

My father was born to a middle class family in Uttar Pradesh, India. He never had the luxuries that kids have today. From his very early age, he worked very hard to attend school for higher education. His family was not very capable to support him for his education. So from the very beginning he worked hard to get money for proper education. The money he earned working full time as a fourteen-year-old boy wasn't enough to support his entire family of 15 members but he worked hard and hard for their betterment. He has always been a very hard working man. He was married at the age of twenty and had four children when he was thirty. He worked fifteen to twenty hours a day. It's almost as if he lead two lives: his working life and his family life and in this order. At work place my father was always a very punctual and positive thinking person.

He was very loyal to all of us. He was so kind to us that he would wait until we took last bite of food. Whenever there was any problem in our life, he was the only person to solve it amicably.

He was never proud of any achievements I had made in my life. The proudest day of his life was the day when I got Government job. I still remember his words "now you are finally doing something". I was only 20 years at that time.

My father is now near about 70 years and resides with us in Delhi, India, where he spends most of his times in helping needy people.

He is a good soul. My father supported me financially until I was an adult, and for that I will be grateful to him.

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Life Happens

By: J.M.Soorya Narayan

Looking back, one event that has truly changed the way I look at life has been one in which my father has played a crucial role. It is not something that he planned like every other event in my life. This one just happened.

The morning on 24th May, 2010 showed no signs of what was about to unfold later. As usual, my father got up at 4.00 a.m., carried out his normal routine and went for work. Along with him, I too had left for school least expecting the worst. The day at school went according to schedule and as I returned home, I saw my mother in tears. My heart beat rose. I threw my school bag away, rushed to her and asked what had happened. She could hardly speak amidst the tears. As she recovered, she told me that my father, who had been healthy until that moment had suffered a massive heart attack that afternoon around 2.30 p.m. I was shell-shocked. My father is a disciplined person. He does not drink or smoke. He is a complete teetotaller. He goes to bed early in the night and is an early bird. He is an ideal person to emulate.

We rushed to the hospital along with my younger brother who still did not understand much of what was going on. We learned from his office colleagues that while my father was in a meeting, he had suddenly developed chest pain and suspecting a heart attack, had called for the ambulance. His colleagues had done a fantastic job of providing him the first-aid and rushing him to the emergency at HMC, the biggest government hospital in Qatar. We were able to meet him only after an hour as he was undergoing emergency treatment in the Hamad hospital. It was a sorry sight to see. He was connected to various medical apparatus each of which was measuring his vitals. He was surrounded by nurses and doctors.

When he regained his consciousness, he told me that while he was undergoing the pain, he thought of me and felt it was really necessary for him to survive for the sake of my future developments and that of my brothers'. It was then that I realised how deep a father's love is. He comforted me and others in my family even in that situation where he was barely able to speak. I was also in tears. He promised that this would also pass like any other major calamity. I was learning a lot from him even at that time. Here is the man fighting for his life and is in a very positive frame of mind.

On the journey back home from hospital, there was complete silence. Thoughts of my father were running through my (our) mind. I was praying to God every moment for my father's speedy recovery. Everything looked hollow. It was then that I realised that in any son's life, a father plays a crucial role, ensuring proper and complete development of a child. In my life too, if there ever was a driving force that had led me through my successes and being able to overcome failures over the years, it has been none other than my father.

More than just inculcating good manners and values, he has always acted as a friend and taken me through the different stages of life. My life has been no exception.

He has been and continues to be a motivating figure in spurring me to greater heights. Right from my junior classes, he has identified my strengths, weaknesses and has instilled in me confidence. He has also created enough opportunities to improve myself in all aspects. Whatever he had done for me till then, I realised had always been for my betterment.

He had always emphasized on my participation in various competitions both inter-school and intra-school. This has in fact played a huge role in my development. Due to my exposure to many events, I got a taste of both success and failure. My father used to tell me not to be afraid of failures and rather look at them as opportunities for learning. More than success, it is failures which teach a person more. How true that has been in my life too? This has indeed helped me to realise that failure too is a part of life that helps us to learn from our own mistakes. This has prepared me well to face failure and I have learned to take things as it comes in life. It has helped me develop a positive outlook towards life.

Whenever I have been part of a large event, my father has taken up the initiative and has always kept ready all preparations to ensure the success of the event. There had been one such occasion where I had conducted an exhibition of my paintings in the French Cultural Centre, Qatar in the month of April, 2010. Even during that event he had taken a day off from his office in order to ensure the best possible arrangements for the event. He himself had personally visited many shops to buy all the necessary items for the exhibition. That was one event in which he had given his heart and soul in order to make that all my hard work is well recognized and rewarded. I was immensely appreciated by my Principal, teachers and all my friends.

Apart from giving me lot of exposure in various extra-curricular activities, he has also played a crucial role in my academic endeavours. Whenever I had a doubt irrespective of what subject it was in, I could always approach him with a sense of confidence that he would be able to solve it. This helped me build up my confidence and shine well even in my academics. He had also helped me do well in many mathematical shows and conferences. My father, being an Engineer himself and an IT Consultant having a strong base in mathematics, has many a times given me new innovative ideas regarding mathematical modelling and other branches of mathematics.

His style of parenting is something unique. He always maintained a friendly nature and never resorted to aggressive methods such as beating me. His way of pointing out our mistakes were very unique and always pointed out the situation which led us (includes my brother too) to that and not the individuals.

He has also been a beacon of encouragement. He has always been present in all my events and has captured those memories either on tape or in the form of photos. Even now when I look at myself a couple of years back, I feel very happy as I have shown a good level of improvement from where I was before. So, capturing my growth at every stage has helped me to set a higher benchmark to improve myself. No need to say the subsequent days were very difficult for all three of us. There was some unusual silence and we knew that our thoughts were filled with my father who was still recovering.

And three days later, showing all the positive signs, the doctor said that my father was recovering very well and would soon be discharged. He also added that no major damage had taken place. At that moment, I felt a great sense of relief to have him back with me. I am really thankful to God that he has come out of this major crisis without much damage. It was only God who was with him when he went through the most difficult phase of his life.

It was at that moment that I felt I should start shouldering responsibilities and relieve my father of some of his burdens. I was so close to losing him and now that he is back, I realised how indispensible he has become in my life. I am so happy that he will continue to be a guiding factor and inspire me to further success. With him on my side, I believe that no barrier is impossible to break.

I realised that a role model need not be a famous personality alone but can also be a person from our own home and for me it is none other than my father. He has been a role model, he is still a role model and he will definitely continue to be a role model for me throughout my life.

In summary, the greatest gift I ever have in my life is my father. There are no words to say how much I admire and appreciate him. He has always said that break new barriers and no need to follow his footsteps. Look for the unknowns. Here I know very well that that is always a person to turn to for guidance, out to conquer my own world. Father, truly, you have been great. My words fail to express my thoughts. Thank you, dear father.

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He's My Dad

By: Joanne E. John

A wise person,

Who helps me no matter the season;

Advises me, in whatever situation;

An amazing inspiration

He's my DAD.

A person who holds my hand

When I, I'm filled with fear;

One who is never too busy

To spend with me - time so dear;

He's my DAD.

A person who will always love me,

No matter what I do,

And if I ever mess up,

He gives me confidence to try again.

He's my DAD.

I can always lean on him,

Whether day or night;

And, he will protect me,

I know, with all his might.

He's my DAD.

Forever I can trust him,

He will always care;

No matter how I fare,

I know his love is always there.

At the end of every day,

All I can say

Is, "I Love you Dad,

Being your daughter makes me so glad!"

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..........

If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

............
My Father, My All

By: Joshua Piers Wesley Casson

I would say that my Dad is the greatest man I know, though I would be lying as my Dad is more than a man; he is my Father. I, without doubt, believe in the importance of a Father figure in every child's life, and my Father strongly contributes to this belief. He is the central being to which I gravitate around. Without him... well, I'd rather not think of that.

My Father, Simon Casson, is the person to whom I owe my success and there are three instances which I would like to bring up to testify this fact. Before I go into details though, I would like to say to my Father: Thank you, for everything. I love you so much that I could not even put into thought the level unto which I owe you. You have made me the man I am today and, honestly, I love you. Without you, Dad, I would be nothing; but with you, I feel like I am everything. You make me feel as if I can climb the highest of mountains, and with you, I could. You help me to dream the biggest dreams, and with you, they all seem achievable.

It was a non-surprisingly hot day (I live in Qatar!) when I felt the first pang of rejection, an emotion to which my 10 year old body felt very distant from until that day. I had been rejected from the school sports team and despite loving sports and being described as an 'all-rounder', they told me there were 'too few places'. To put it into words that I now understand, I wasn't good enough. I was, quite honestly, heartbroken. Sure, to look back now I feel foolish as it was only a sports team, though back then it felt like the world was caving in on me and I had nobody to turn to. That was, until you came to me (with that 'you' being my Father). My Poppa and Nana were staying with us at the time and I came home from school streamed in tears. Feeling embarrassed and useless, I used the back entrance as to not attract any unwanted attention, as my Poppa and Nana, despite being very caring, in my mind would have been disappointed in me. I do not remember what happened exactly over the next few hours, though I do remember that it involved a huge amount of crying, as well as anger and self-pity. When my Dad came home from work, regardless of the stress of his job and the pressure he was under, he immediately came to comfort me (Dad's have some kind of magical ability to tell when something is wrong). He held me whilst I burst into tears once more, and then held me some more. When I had vented all my troubles to him, he sat me down as said (I will never forget these words): 'Son, no matter what you do, I will always love you. I just want you to know that before I say anything else'. Now, although I was only 10, I knew that my Dad loved me; everybody knows that. But this completely blew me away and almost instantaneously washed away my 'troubles'. I realised then that, in spite of rejection, I would always have somebody who would never do such a thing; somebody who would always love me. I still do not think that I have been able to comprehend how lucky I am to have somebody like this. Every day I take my Father for granted, but it is in these moments of love that I am able to reflect on how blessed I truly am. After my Dad spoke those eternal words, he went on to tell me that rejection is not always a bad thing. He explained to me that from every fall a person has a choice to make: they can either pity themselves and stay down on the ground, or they can learn from their experiences and rise. He told me to rise. Looking back I can now truly appreciate the importance of this lesson early on as it would prepare me for my next episode of rejection...

Fast-forward two years and you have the 12 year old me; cockier and now in secondary school. Still a sportsman, I entered Doha College with sports in mind, putting education to the back of my interests. Despite this philosophy, I did reasonably well in school (subject-wise), scoring a 'C' here and perhaps a 'B' if I was lucky. At that time in my life, studies were boring and sports were fun! What could possibly be simpler? Again, I tried out for the sports team, positive that I would get in. Again, I was rejected. For a second time I was depressed and sad over this feeling of rejection, though I could almost remember hearing my Dad's words at the back of my mind. But regardless of his instilled wisdom, I was still sad. I was 12! Moping around the house my Dad, yet again, found me and sat me down, though this time was different. The message of his guidance now was not the simply accept what had happened, but to fight back. He advised me to go back to the sports teacher and first of all ask why I was rejected from the team. Secondly, and most importantly, he told me to tell my teacher that, if possible, could I still help out the team in some way. The teacher considered this and agreed to put me on the reserves for the team, which meant that, in the very unlikely event that somebody got injured, I would take their place. Over the course of the next few months I was not deeply concerned over not being on the team; sure, my friends were on it, but I had a Dad who loved me! He kept on saying to me that no matter what happens, he would always love me. I strongly feel that these words have made me into the confident person I am today. I could always tell myself that whatever happened, my Dad was always going to be there with open arms, waiting to comfort me. I could sleep at night knowing that at least one person in this world truly cared for me. The months rolled on (as they usually do) and soon, weeks before the competition, a player on the sports team was injured and I was chosen to replace him. I cannot describe the joy I felt in that moment when my sports teacher told me I had been selected. This would be the first real sporting competition in which I could participate in! But most importantly, my Father's advice had paid off! I will never forget the level of respect I felt for my Dad then, standing before him in my sporting kit ready to go off to play in the competition. It was after this moment in my life that I would never doubt my Father again.

Trust plays a very important role in this final story as things start to get serious. At this stage in the story I am now a young man; with 14 years of age in my pocket and confidence surrounding me like a sweet smelling aroma, I felt like nothing could ever hurt me. That was, of course, until I got suspended from school. I was not a massive trouble maker in the school, though a series of unfortunate events all rolled together to lead to this punishment, though I will not bore you with the elongated details. I clearly remember the day when I was told I was going to be suspended. Tears do not quite sufficiently describe my emotions of the time. I was shell shocked and it was, quite simply, a very dark time for me. I felt that there had been a miscarriage of justice, though there was nothing I could do. I was lost and confused. The day I was told of my suspension my Dad came to pick me up (he had been notified of it by the school) and instead of going home with my usual driver, outside waiting for me was my Father. I went up to him and my tears choked me to the point that I had to rush into his car to prevent others from seeing me cry. I felt like a little boy. After what seemed to be an age of stuttering tears, he told me the same words he told me four years earlier: 'Son, no matter what you do, I will always love you. I just want you to know that before I say anything else'.

Over the past few years prior to this life changing event, I had since grown up with this feeling that my Dad truly loved me, as even in this time of my embarrassment, he did not desert me. Even when I had fallen below low, he stood there to keep me going. Honestly, if you had not been there Dad, I would have fallen into a very dark chasm of trouble and confusion. After I was reassured of his love, my Father took me inside the school and we went to speak with the man in charge of discipline. After talking about what had happened, as well as discussing what happens next, I and my Dad came out of the room hand in hand. It was then that I knew I was going to get through this. The next week was the hardest week I have ever faced; I was not allowed to go to school and knowledge of my suspension had spread. Though my Father, unbeknownst to me, had a plan up his sleeve; he told me that out of these ashes, I will rise. I learnt a valuable lesson that week; not only did I learn the lesson of humility (of which I was desperately needing at that time), but I also began to understand the lesson of trust. I trusted my Dad and with that trust in mind, I was able to rise from the ashes. I came out of my suspended week refreshed and confident (though this time, it was a very different kind of confidence). Following my Father's wisdom within my time off, I did not dwell so much over the punishment, and bitterness did not cross my path when dealing with the man in charge of it. I felt like a new man. But it was only with the help, guidance and support of my Father though that I was able to come out of this mess. It was with your support Dad, that I was able to rise.

I often believe that there are no coincidences in the world. If something happens, it happens for a reason. I share this strong view with my Father and I very much consider that these events, although they hurt me at the time, made me a better person. After getting suspended from school, the following year I completely transformed my work ethic and went from a 'C' student to an 'A*' student. Despite this, the one thing that I am truly proud of is that my relationship with my Father has continued to grow. Without my Father, I would, in all seriousness, be completely broken. I would happily throw away all my grades and achievements in order to become closer to my Dad. This, I sense, is what true love feels like, and I hope that one day I will be able to share the very same feeling with my future son.

Dad, Father, Simon, Cass: I love you. Sometimes I mess up, but you are always there to pick up the pieces. I am writing this because, although you do not know it yet, I sometimes feel as if I cannot describe my true love for you. I find it hard to express this endless affection that fills my heart. Even now, I feel that this does not truly describe how I feel about you, Dad.

I would give you my life and my soul because you are my Father, my all.

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My Father: My Power, My Strength

By: Joyston Wadnill Morer

My father's name is John Wilfred Morera. He is my inner strength, a pillar of support for me. I believe that he was sent especially for me by god. My father is a person who always thinks positive and works in an organised manner. He is strict at times, but I want it because he cares for me and does not want me to go in wrong direction. I agree with it because every child is the reflection of their parents. They are the one who curve and shape their children to beautiful, shining diamonds.

My father is my centre of attraction because of his qualities. He is very punctual, this has also helped me to be on time and never be late. My father says "A person who is late is always late". He is also very honest. My father made me believe that honesty is that power that can change our life. He also helps the charity a lot; every year when we go to our home town Mangalore in India, he buys his time and goes to St. Antony Ashram where he donates money to the poor. This is what I like about him.

He also is a god-fearing person and is deeply religious. He believes that St. Antony has aided him throughout his life in his difficult times.

My father always likes to have a joint family. He tells me the times when he was small and about his brothers and sisters, how they used to be together, play together and help each other in difficult times. He always reminds me how life was in Mangalore in those days; small house with no electricity, no proper water supply, and not even enough money to eat food. But even when there was not enough food and that bit of food they used to share it among themselves.

When my father was 18 years, he came here to Doha for work. He had very less salary. During this period he used to see others with their families, and used to think within himself that after marrying, would his family be with him or not. But his destiny brought his family to Doha with him. He worked hard day and night, and with god's blessing he reached the position he is today, from a helper to a supervisor.

One thing different about him is that, whatever burden or tension he has, he will only show his happiness and hides the pain within him. Whenever I ask anything from him he never says no for an answer. Even when he is in shortage of money, he would ask some money from others and provide the best for me.

Let me share one of my experiences with my father from which I learnt a beautiful lesson.

It was during the winter vacation and I was 11 years old, I had a competition in sports that was on October 12th 2007. But my father also had an important meeting in America for which he had to go there. He had worked hard for it and I thought he wouldn't be there with me in the competition, but surprisingly he was there cheering for me. At First I thought it was an illusion but he was there. My heart was filled with happiness and I got the power to win in the competition, as he came only for me. Later that day I asked him why he did so. He had sacrificed his project that he worked so hard for. He said "Being there to support my family especially for my son is more important". He also said "Family means everything to a person. We must sacrifice anything or everything for it when they are in need of you. Love for the others is that what binds family together".

I will never forget this statement that he said. I want to follow the footsteps of my father, and want to be like him. Let me tell another experience were I learnt an important and beautiful lesson from my father.

I was thirteen years old and it was the winter here in Qatar. So we decided to go for a picnic to a beach, it was 31th July 2009 and we went to a beach called Al Ghariya, 130 Km from Doha city. My parents, me, my friends went together, we reached there and it was Friday a public holiday, so there was a crowd. Coincidently I somehow saw my enemy. His name is Winston, he always used to bully me and make fun of me in school. I tried to keep a distance from him. We were in the water playing when we heard a shout, it was Winston he had slipped and fallen on the sharp rocks. I thought in my mind this was the revenge I long waited for. Suddenly my father ran and went to his aid. I was shocked. He had a first aid kit in his car, so he put some iodine and a dressing. For my father's kind work he thanked him for what he did.

Later that day I asked my father why he did help him even when he was my enemy. He said "Whosoever be our enemy, but when he or she is in need of our help we must lend a hand. We will be blessed by God for this work". I knew I was guilty in thinking of him in a bad way. On Sunday Winston came to me and said sorry for what he did. And I forgave him and we became friends. I learnt a lesson that 'we should love our neighbours, even our enemies and help them in need, no matter what. We will get our reward for our kindness". I am thankful of my father and for this he gets all the credit.

My father is my guide and a guardian angel for me. He is my power, my strength, my source of values that will help me in my long life ahead. He taught me to walk, talk, for the first time, draw and live a life with positive thoughts. I cannot live a life without him.

I am what I am because of him. And I am proud to be his son. I love my dad.

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My Father – My Adviser

By Khalid Al-Ibrahim

Fathers are the ones who support your life with joy and hope, and they're the ones who get your needs and wants when you need them, so imagine your life without your father how would you feel?

My father is the guy who filled my life with dreams, hope, and religion. My father raised me in a way that he wanted me to be better than him, and that's what most fathers want for their children, but some fathers don't even care about their children.

My father used to work as a marketing manager in Qatar Steel. When I got to grade 5, my father worked at 'The pearl' where also he was marketing manager, but when I got to grade 7 my father got a promotion where he started working at UDC as a general manager. My father used to provide me with all of my needs and wants, but when I do something good or do well in school he brings me prizes, they used to be toys video games and other things that used to motivate me. Now my father motivates me by bringing me electronic gadgets. My love of technology started when I was at kindergarten, when my father gave me his old laptop to play and learn with it. He used to teach me how to use it and he used to get me some PC games to entertain myself with. After that in pre-school my father bought himself a new PC and gave me his old one, it had a coloured screen and more functions than the old one, and I kept on learning, and now I show my father some of the tricks and tips to help him, I became the expert.

My father tries his best to provide a good future for me, because I am his first son, and he is really happy and proud of me. My father used to ask my mother everyday about my progress in school, until I reached 7th grade. My father started to visit my school and check on my progress in school, to make sure that I'm going in the right direction. My father travels a lot for work and sometimes when I don't have school he takes me with him just to have fun and relax. One of the things that I like most when I travel with my father is that he likes to buy gifts for me, and in return I tried my best to work hard and to listen to my father. When I was a little child my father took me to the mosque with him and he taught me how to pray, and he used to help me memorize the Quran and get better at it. He would send me to mosques in the summer where they taught the Quran and tested me to, and see how good I was at reading and memorizing the holy Quran. My father taught me morals, how to help others when they ask for help, and also how to talk properly to people, like my uncles and aunts.

My father usually takes me out on weekends to the beach or to the desert, just to pass the time and to do some activates with my family. I remember when I went with my father to the gym, he used to tell me to exercise and to get fit, so in the future I won't have problems such as:, Diabetes, heart problems and other diseases. Also he used to take me to the swimming club and have lessons, with my sister. Human beings make a mistake which is normal in life, but the problem is that when you make the same mistakes again and you don't learn from them. Your parents are there to help you avoid these mistakes and to take a step forward in your life. When I was young I used to make a lot of mistakes, but my father used to make me feel that what I did was wrong and not to repeat it ever again which is a good thing, and when I made really big mistakes he used to hit me so I would never forget.

Now I am in a boarding school where I don't see my father except on holidays and weekends, and every time I go back home I kiss my father's head to show my respect for him, and how much I love my father. Still my father gives me advice about the future and how I can be a successful person in my life, and a real man.

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My Proud Father

By: Mahalakshmi Sarma

Have you ever paid much attention to the fact that dads can do everything? Well, my dad could do everything that I thought of, as far as I knew. He could write with both hands, play any and every sport imaginable, concoct the strangest dishes and alibis, knew and explained all the things under the sun, cracked the rudest jokes at the dining table, and danced like he wasn't afraid of anything. He could find out whether there was enough salt in the food my mother cooked by sniffing it, managed to look handsome even with his gray hair, and prided himself on his ability to say an awful lot in a small phrase. He loved having the last word and the last laugh, my dad did.

He would come home every day from work, exhausted and worn out, and I'd be sitting on my favourite seat, waiting for him, like some kind of guardian sphinx, whose greeting riddle demanded a daddy bear hug and a loud smacking kiss on its childish, stony cheek.

Like a magician producing a rabbit from his sparkling hat, my dad would pull out the day's treat for me: a small wrapped chocolate or a fruit or something to eat. It wasn't much, what he gave, but there was something special about how he gave it to me, that made me want to have whatever he offered. The strange thing was, if the same squashed orange or chubby plum was given to me by anyone else, I wouldn't have liked it so much. Another one of life's mysteries, I suppose.

Chilling out at home was my dad's favourite occupation. He would either sleep in his bedroom, with his smelly socks on and beach-print shorts, like a grown up nursery kid, or would crash out on the biggest sofa, flicking through channels and dozing off when he thought we weren't looking.

My dad – being a typical father – always wanted me to be the best. When I was in grade Three, and the teachers arranged meetings with my parents, my dad would constantly meet disappointment. I was an average student, a tiny, runty little girl that nobody would look twice at, and that's how I wanted it to be. I hated to call more attention to myself than needed.

One such day, while entering my school, my dad stopped at the famous Apple Tree, a rank chart. All parents loved it and all third-graders loathed it. Well, at least I did.

For a long time, he stared solemnly at my photograph, pinned onto the 3rd Rank Apple, then bent down and asked me, 'Why are you here?' he tapped the cut-out of the apple, then pointed at the 1st Rank Apple, where five photos jostled for attention. 'You should be here.'

My mother hugged me gently, ruffling my hair, but he just frowned, shaking his head. Disappointed again! In the next term exam, I scored highest on almost every subject. My dad acted unsurprised, waving it off and saying that his daughter had always had it in her, that she'd got stars all by her own hard work, but I swore, I saw a spring in his step after that parent-teacher meeting. Suddenly, all the teachers did was talk about me, my marks, and my hidden brilliance. Everybody wanted to be my friend, all the girls wanted to play with me, and each kid needed my help. It was unnerving . . . and exciting.  
But my dad didn't leave it there. When I said he wanted me to be the best, I meant at everything, not just at academics. He sent me to all kinds of extra classes – art, dance, music and instruments, and never understood why I couldn't overachieve like any other typical nerdy, competitive Asian kid. He still doesn't know.

There seemed to be a hidden camera fixed behind my dad's eyes. He would fast-forward to A Day when You Need To Show Off Your Piano Skills, come back to normal settings, and tell me to start practicing, or else. Being a kid, I would whine and tantrum my way out of every piano lesson, and got to sit back and slurp spicy noodles as my brother slogged through hour after boring hour of perfecting chords and staccato and what not. For him, it paid off, being able to play Hungarian Dances and Canon, Fur Elise and Prelude to deafening applause, while I gritted my teeth, trying to guess which note was which in Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. My dad was always right, and he knew that.

I was famous for making cards. At school, I would make little folded hearts or cute cut-outs with birthday greetings on them, and at home I would sit for hours, cutting up coloured paper, putting finishing touches to the cards I loved the most to make – Mom's and Dad's. Mom was special, because she would accept anything that I made, and would take it with love even if it was written on toilet paper with smudged paint. Dad was just as special, and a bit unusual too – the Obsessive Daughter - Perfection Syndrome again. I was rewarded with a restaurant treat – usually Pizza Hut, daddy cuddles, and the pride of having my dad stick my creations in pride of place above his workstation.

My dad praised me a lot. He would tell anybody and everybody who listened to my various talents and achievements, and more often at that, stretched the truth a bit. A long time back—at least a year or two ago—I won an essay-writing competition between all the eight-grade forms. We had guests over for lunch, and out of the blue, he announced to all:

'Do you know, my daughter actually won an award for essay-writing?! She was the top in the whole school!' I was mortified: should I just stand there blushing, accepting praise that I didn't deserve, or should I correct my dad, and make him blush as well?

You can guess what I did. They—the visitors—never let me forget it. Each time I clapped eyes on them, either in the supermarket or for friendly visits, they wouldn't ever pass up the opportunity to congratulate me about my wonderful wonderfulness.

Another time, he got carried away with my so-called "artistic abilities"; he thought that spilling colour onto a paper by mistake was considered painting. He decided to get me an easel. A strange thing I found out after he'd purchased it for me was its price – it was barely 60 riyals.

But the most important thing about this beautiful, ungainly, lanky contraption of wood was that it made me want to paint. It forced me to try, and when I did . . . well, let's just say my dad liked it enough to frame it.

Since my parents were a bit on the short side, my dad was always worried that I'd turn out to be average too. He would always push me to the monkeys bars, forced me to eat the icky greens and beans on my plate. Every weekend, he would stand me up to the growth chart and measure me, as if expecting a difference. There never was. After long, lengthy talks to me about my height, nutrition and my brother's explosive growth, his usual ending words were 'You'd better start growing. You'd better catch up to your Anna, okay?' Maybe it was the frustration of it all, or maybe he was actually egging on my subconscious, I wasn't sure, but I started growing. Now I am taller than my mom! And my dad is proud!!

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A Letter to My Father

By: Mahmoud M. Eid

'Father'- this single word in which envelopes meanings and wonderful sensations in my existence. For me, I cannot imagine how the life would be without him lightening it. No life exists without him. In all actuality I do not remember any part of my life, without him playing a major role in the most supportive way.

Anyone who has a ray of insight can see this marvellous role in my development, which in fact actually started years before my birth. The fact is that my father was working really hard day after day to prepare for the moment I become part of his life. He was waiting for me, preparing a welcome for my arrival in such an amazing manner. When I was born he took care of me , brought me everything I wanted , any toy I liked , taught me how to sit , how to stand, how to speak ,how to say respect to my mother, siblings and other people. As I grew he never stopped watching me, supporting me. And what amazes me is that he still thinks he has not done enough for me.

Our father moved our family to Saudi Arabia where he had an excellent job as a sales manager. One day my father decided to return to our country, Palestine. When we returned the suffering started, because he couldn't find any work for two years. He constantly looked for work without giving up. One day he found a job with a big company as a sale manager and after his meeting with them has gone successfully, they decided to hire him. I was at fifth grade and I was very happy for him and for us as a family, but sadly after two weeks the company closed when our country came under attack by fighter jets and tanks. My father was very sad because he left Saudi Arabia and couldn't provide for us like before. Even though my father could not find work, he still took care of me and my family and wanted us to be happy. He always said that it is his responsibility no matter what, to make us happy. Through these rough years Father was always a gentle man never giving up in trying and offering us the best life. Finally after the war, he got a job in Jabalia municipality.

Another way my father helped me was being my teacher if I wanted any help in any subject for school, he would be by my side working with me. Though our life in Gaza is extremely stressful, my father always tried to keep me relaxed and the home environment mood positive so I could study. After I graduated from high school my father supported my decision to become a doctor so I could help people. No matter what I could write, nothing could truly describe my feelings I have for my father. There are no words that can truly express my love. I wish that I can make my father as happy as he has made me happy.

I hope that you are proud of me; I have always tried to be the person you deserve. May Allah bless you and fulfil all of your wishes and make your life full of happiness forever.

Your son.....

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My Father's Love

By : Malak El-Madhoun

Whenever people ask me about why I love my father, they don't understand how important he is to me. In reality he was my first teacher. For some reason they think I'm not happy when they make comments like "Why do you love your father so much", but they have no idea how happy I am deep inside that they notice how important he is to me. They have no idea not only how much I love my father, but how he is my role model and I hope to be just like him.

In Fact I hope that my father could serve as a role model with his warm smiles for all the people in Gaza during these difficult times. I hope that all people could be like my father when his smiles, even during these difficult times in Gaza, but we want not to give in and live with these difficulties without crying. My father's soul is amazing; he will do anything and take us anywhere to put smiles on our faces.

Even when the bombs go off in the night, or we hear about another person killed by the Israeli Army my father reaches into our hearts to keep us from falling into despair. My father warms our family with his smiles during the cold winter nights. Even when horrible things are happening outside, he envelopes my siblings and myself with his smiles creating a warm environment by playing simple games like 'Ya ghorab Ya tayer' , 'Jawz Wa Lawz.' (Traditional games)

I will never forget how he has cared for me in a way that made me strong and trust myself. Even during primary school, I can still remember how he stood by me with his love and strength. My father worked with my mother to help me feel relaxed and comfortable during my studies. His efforts paid off because I succeeded in school which enabled me to believe in myself.

My father has given me the emotional and intellectual support that I needed since I was a child. He taught me how to work with others, take the good things and leave the bad. My father is like a true mentor who has taught me practical things like managing my time and my priorities. Most importantly my father puts into practice everything he teaches me. He has always been a role model for me in how he takes care of his own responsibilities. When my Grandfather died my father continued in his footsteps by taking care of his brothers so they didn't feel the emptiness of their father's absence. He encouraged them in their studies, graduate from university and when they got married. His deeds were never unnoticed; my uncles have never forgotten everything he did for them. This has served as a lesson I will carry through my life.

My relationship with my father encompasses and encircles my heart which I call "The soul love". I truly understand and respect how he thinks because his loving advice and directions has kept our family united.

In Gaza it was like our fathers die a thousand times trying to provide for us all the things that will make us comfortable after the Siege and destruction of Gaza in 2009. Since the blockade fathers are fighting an uphill battle on a daily basis due to the economic situation. We are forced to adapt to these harsh conditions such as our electricity being cut at least eight hours a day. If you came to Gaza you would hear the noise of the generators that our fathers keep running so we can have electricity in our homes.

In 2009, all around the world fathers were celebrating with their children a promise of a new year with beautiful fireworks. But for my father he was holding us tight trying to protect us from the bombs falling by our home carrying death and sadness. My father serves as a role model for me because even though the building where he ran his business was destroyed by the last war he has remained steadfast and patient. He shoulders our families' pain, tears and frustrations alone. I let him know through my eyes and warm smiles that "You are a great father, I love you very much."

Though I struggled through my senior year of high school my father encouraged me so that I could succeed and apply for university.

In fact, I hope to be a great husband to my wife and have the same features of my father in future.

Now you know that the secret of my success is due to my father's love and support. I love you, my father, you are my life.

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My Father – The Best

By: Mariam Mohamed Ahmed Khalil

I want to tell you that my Dad is the best person you can ever meet and that I have got lots of memories about him.

One of them is about when we were still living in Egypt and I was in grade 5 then. Then the term-1 results came out and my math's result was very poor. He sat with me to talk about it but I was just saying one sentence "I hate maths and I will never get good marks in it," but because he is an accountant and he uses lots of maths while he is working, he said he will help me in term-2. He kept supporting me the whole term and telling me you are smart, you are good at maths and he always took me to quiet places that had many tress, grass and flowers because I think it helped me to think! It really helped me when I took the term-2 exam. After that all I was waiting for was the result and thank goodness the result was marvellous and I got an A. I wanted to thank him for letting me think of maths in a new, bright, different way because if you keep telling yourself I can't do it you won't do it! I learnt from this experience an important lesson and that is; always believe in yourself and as many people, say if you believe you can achieve!

When I look in my dad's eyes I see lots of knowledge, lots of information I need to know. I also see lots of lessons I still need to learn from him. My dad is an open book, if you ask him anything he would answer and he never lies to me, which is one of the reasons why I adore him so much! My Dad always reminds me to be patient because I always do things fast and I don't wait. He always simply says that I am very impatient and not only him but my Mom and my Grandmother too. I will tell you one of my memories that I am impatient in it. Once in 2009 in Qatar, I was taking lunch at home and I was in the kitchen putting food into my plate, there was a film on the television that I love and I wanted to watch it, so I was so fast that I put everything in a tray and I held it with one hand and the fizzy drink on the other so definitely the tray was so heavy on my hand so the plate and all the other things on the tray slipped from the tray and fell over the kitchen floor. When my Dad came from work my Mom told him about what I did and he kept asking me why you are so impatient and fast? Then he told me to be patient and to be slow if you are doing something that may break.

My Dad always thinks for the best for me and he always jokes and sometimes he says no about something and I keep asking him why? When he tells me why it makes no sense to me but he told me before when I become a parent I would understand and it will make sense to me and even I will tell it to my children, like one I wanted to go to a mall with my friends and we plan to go to the cinema and even more to a three hour horror movie called Piranha. He refused about the cinema but he agreed about walking to the mall to eat lunch, shop or even play but cinema no! When I asked him why, he told me, do not go alone there, you are not old enough. So I just kept quiet and I didn't refuse or argue because my Dad had a point.

Another thing I learned from Dad is to keep promises and be sure if someone promises you of something he or she will do it! Like in summer 2010, we travelled to Egypt my home country, my house is in Cairo so when we take a brake we usually leave Cairo and go to another city in Egypt that have beaches, swimming pool, no pollution, better temperature. This summer we didn't go to any beaches we just stayed in Cairo and believe me after about 1 month I started to get bored because we were doing nothing and still there were two months of vacation left. So I kept begging my Dad to travel to any beach but he said he was so busy doing very important things in Cairo, but he promised me that we will travel to a very nice country in winter (I hope it is Paris or London!) I believed him because Dad never breaks any promises. That is another thing that I love about him and I learned it from him never ever break a promise because if you break your promise your conscience will keep asking you, "why did you do that!" and also the person that you promised to do something for him or her and you broke the promise he or she will never ever trust you again!

I love tennis, it is my favourite sport, and also I love it because of my father, I used to go with him when I was young and help him collect the balls. Once I went to a championship in Smash Tennis Academy we were only 6 players in the championship but my Dad kept supporting me and watching me and telling me what I needed to improve, what I needed to concentrate on. He always told me try to know the weak point in the player in front of you like, is it the serve, the forehand, the back hand and things like that. I didn't really do very well in the championship but that was because I needed more training, more concentrating but my Dad told me never mind next time you will get the 1st place, but at the end I took a medal and I found that I did something. I was so proud of myself on that moment, not only me but my Dad also. I learned from this experience never to give up and to continue the thing you love but always remember if you believe, you can achieve! There are many lessons to learn from my Dad and many things to know about and if I just kept writing I will never stop because I love my Dad so much and I'm always curious to learn or know something new from him.

One sentence that can sum up all I wrote is simply; my father is the best father in the whole world!

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..........

If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

............
I Love You Dad, No Matter What!

By: Mariam Sami Abda

How I love to tell you a breath taking story about my father and how he was shining my path like the stars around the moon. I wish I could say that his words were always tender and when he whispered in my ears I felt a summer breeze tickling all the way to my cheek, or when he held my hand I felt secure, protected and serene. Well, the truth is far from this. The father figure you're searching for is not the one you shall hear about. The reality will bring tears to your eyes, yet it will teach you the real value of love. So in order to tell you the confessions of my broken heart, you will have to listen until the end and hopefully you may learn something.

The first pages of my diary were written by my own tears and believe me I wrote a lot. My father taught me the feelings of pain and sorrow. I became familiar with each corner of my house as the back of my hand, because with each of them I shared my grief. Even the walls were not gentle to my ears because they made me hear all the yelling and screaming of my father, when he used to fight with my mother. I discovered my vocal potentials when I was screaming to be heard; in order for them to stop fighting! I remember in my darkest days, the only word I was hoping he would say was "I love you" and I've been waiting for so long. So hear my story and you will know why I love him, you will know why, with all that he made me go through, I will always love him.

I remember, at the age of twelve, I used to work and that was the age of being lost and wanting to be found, the age when you needed someone in your life to guide you and be there for you. At that time, while girls were being spoiled by their fathers with gifts, my own father used to take the fruit of my sweat. Whenever I had to buy something or even pay my own school tuitions, though, I could see pockets full of money all I heard were "I'm broke". I used to envy my friends whenever I saw the bond between them and their fathers and whenever they ask for something and they would simply get it. However, we all know that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. So here I' am, at the age of twenty two and everybody envies my father for having such a daughter because I achieved everything with my own potentials; I am a self-made woman. I entered Qatar University with a scholarship and soon I will graduate, I write poetry and I am a very intellectual person, I have lots of experience and I work for my living. I have achieved so much at an early age and if it wasn't for my suffering and pain, I wouldn't have grown up strong, independent and talented. So how can I be more thankful, when you, my father, were the one who shaped my personality, even though unintended? How can I not love you, while I'm a better person right now and even those who I once envied now envy me? I also remember the days when bruises covered my body creating a masterpiece, something similar to "Agony" by John Krakora, and when my heart was the house of pain and words were my only possession. At that time I never wanted anything more than someone to comfort me and hear my own music; tunes from my aching heart and teardrops on my guitar. I called for angels to embrace me under their wings and fly me away but the message did not reach the sky. I hoped maybe my friends who I admired the most would make me forget my pain but the task was so hard for them because according to most researches: "bad memories stick better than good". Even the devil offered me his services, but he couldn't meet my demands, he just wanted me to drown in hate and anger and flee from light into darkness. In the end I was still searching for the ultimate way out so I kneeled down with my head toward the sky, and while still searching, a word from above spoke to my heart and healed my entire wound. It was God, the most merciful and most kind, the only one who heard me in my darkest solitude and the only one who could actually ease my pain. His words were interpreted by my inner voice and they were as follows: "smile, God didn't give you grief unless he wanted to make you happy and God didn't take from you unless he wanted to give you, and he deprived you only to be kind to you and he didn't inflict misfortune on you unless he loves you". It is ironic yet true; that our first human instinct when we face an obstacle in life, we seek help from our own creator and from that moment I started to see things differently. When I used to think that God had abandoned me, I found that all I had been through was the product of his love and when I started to believe that, darkness turned to light and I opened my arms to embrace my sorrow. I started praying when tears couldn't heal my pain only words from above; words of faith and love and I wore the Hijab as an act of appreciation, not even as an obligation, especially when God proved me wrong and that life can be like heaven on earth if I just believe. Finally, my spirit found her way toward heaven and all the memories turned to ash. So dad, how can I be more thankful, when you were the one who strengthened my faith and united me with God the most loving and kind, even though unintended? How can I not love you, while I'm a better person right now, a woman of religion and faith?

"Daughter to father; confessions of a broken heart" a song by Lindsey Lohan; in which she describes her feelings to her father, I dedicate it to you, because under her lines and tunes we share the same emotions as well as a lot of people around the world. My relation with you is like the rain; even though the rain reminds me of sadness as if the sky was crying and thunder, as if it was the sound of my inner anger, the end of such symphony and behind this gloomy sight I know that there is a sun smiling and indicating hope and a new chapter of my life. In brief, dad, you contributed to my existence and you were the reason behind who I am today and even though you never told me that you love me, I know that deep down in your heart you do. I also know that you were my mission on earth in which god is trying to test my faith and patience, but I succeeded because I forgive you for everything you made me go through and I know that I'm giving in for something heavenly. So today what I offer you and what most people should learn is the unconditional love, which means I will always love you... no matter what....

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My Superman

By: Mariam Yasser Rashad Nofal

I remember sitting on the kitchen floor that night, thinking about the fight I just had with my father, and the cruel things I said to him. The stubbornness I inherited from him wouldn't let me admit my fault, but as tears shed down from my eyes like a river, my mind also was sinking me with a stream of memories and facts judging me for forgetting how great is my Super Man, My father

My father's life is more like a movie story... It's a journey, and each stage in his life was a journey by itself. It begins in Cairo, Egypt, in 1968, where he was born in a middle class family, composed of a father, a mother, two sisters and one brother. My grandmother was a big fan of the people revolutions around the world. Therefore, she named him Yasser, after the great Palestinian leader "Yasser Arafat" and a beginning that strong is nothing weird to the pattern of the rest of his story. My father was able to read when he was only 3 years old, and as he grew up people discovered his amazing talents like painting, craving, shaping, and playing on several music instruments. He was a true artist; to the point that made his oldest sister who was studying medicine let him do medical models for her. He was also a charming, clever and funny young boy who amazed any person got to know him.

My father had a unique and independent personality, which made him decide to count on himself once he finished school. Even thought he was the youngest among his sisters and brother, and his family's financial situation was excellent, my father insisted on working a part timed job as a carpenter. He rented a small room and turned it into a workshop. He was passionate about it although the idea of "a part time job" was unlikely to be seen among people in that young age. At the same time he studied architecture. He was outstanding by the witness of his professors and friends, and they all expected him to have a bright future with a talent like that. I like to mention that because of his nearly perfect work, a professor accused him of cheating in his graduating project. He didn't believe that a student could draw or make something amazing like that!

My father worked as an architect and taught architecture. I remember having a great life as a child. I was able to enter one of the best schools in Egypt, played sports and did all kinds of activities although my father struggled financially. But he never let us felt that we're missing anything and he proved that he was a successful father and husband. He worked as hard as he could and his hard work was rewarded.

There was a major twist in my father's life. He once was coming back from work and decided to visit his mother and father, but first, he stopped at the mosque to pray, finding a funeral prayer there. After he finished praying, he started to realize that the prayers are from his family, and here comes the surprise, it was his mother's funeral! (It was before mobile phones were widely available that's why no one could reach him) That day was the first day I saw my father crying....

My father continued his struggle in this crazy life we're living, where at days you feel like you own the world and in others you don't even know how you are going to work the next day with no money to fuel your car! And since he didn't depend on his family earlier in his life, he wanted to win the game the same way he started it, with God's faith that filled his heart to the point that filled our hearts as well and was obvious in the way he dealt with the world, he proved that it was true...No act of kindness no matter how small, is ever wasted.

We had the chance to live in Qatar after that, which was amazing, but again, another twist in my father's life was his illness. He suffered from very high blood pressure disease and that affected on his heart, he had to stay in the hospital for a period of time and quit his job. It was enough to crush anyone's spirit, but not my father. Even though it was really hard time, he passed it and he even improved himself to make him more and more valuable, and he even got a better job, to prove once again that his hard work was never wasted.

My father was always been my superman. This might seem like something a 7 years old girl might say, but as I get older I feel it that way more and more. People often call me "Mariam Yasser" instead of a simple "Mariam"! As if they know and feel how important is my father to me. He is everything I wish to be.

My father is a talented, well educated, religious and very funny person to be around. I secretly believe that my father knows everything in the world and can do anything in the world. He will always be the definition of "safety" to me, and as I was sitting on that floor, I discovered that my only problem with my father was nothing like a problem. He simply believes in me, and pushes me to be the best just like he is, and I simply look at the "pushing part" without looking at the reasons, and just like he is my superman, I am a miracle to him. I could see that in his eyes when I just look more deeply in the simplest situations, like asking me about my opinions and just listening to what I have to say, or to free himself to go shopping with me! Those times we spend together make me feel like I'm the most important person in the world, and if I am to my father, then I am to "my world".

I decided to just go and kiss him without saying a word, I don't need to, just like he never needs to tell me how to live, he just lives and lets me watch him doing it.

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Thanking Dad

By: Marwa Saleh

Introduction: The setting is Beirut, Lebanon. My father was born in Southern Lebanon, and moved to the city for work purposes. The story takes place between our village in the South, Beirut and my father's travel destinations. I grew up in Beirut, and have moved to Qatar around 4 years ago to pursue my MD degree.

A father is compassion, support, and a blessing. I find myself at loss of words considering where I am today, and what it took to get me here. I've thought about how I've come a long way from my grandmother's long labouring hours in the tobacco fields.

I do not know how to thank you dad. I know that you say my achievements are enough for you, but I personally think, nothing is enough to express the gratitude I feel to someone who gave me life, shelter, an education, and a chance to be something.

I never get bored of hearing my father's teenage stories, and how he has come to be what he is. I dream about what his father and mother might have been like, given that they died while he was only 22 years old. He never really got the care as a child that he provides me with as his daughter. His mother, I imagine was a strong, firm woman who wanted him to make something of himself, but was unable to provide him with much. My favourite story of her as told by my father was that once when he returned home from work, and he had bought food for the family, and she said to him, "Now, I can die a happy woman, knowing my son has provided for me." I don't know what it is exactly about this story that I like, but it shows me my father's strength and care even as a young boy. This story happened a few months before his mother passed away.

His father passed away 3 years after that, leaving many mouths to feed at home. My father had sixteen brothers and two sisters, from his mom and stepmoms. He was not the eldest, but probably the most mature. He realized that someone has to take responsibility, and he didn't hesitate to claim it.

My grandfather was a political activist, and did not have much time to take care of children back home. He lived through the French era in Lebanon, and he was very involved in politics. His absence for long periods at home left my grandmother as the primary caretaker and financial provider. My father started his first job at 9 years, during his summertime off from school. He began working at the Beirut port, loading and unloading boxes. I think he gained much of his view on life and hard work from that experience. The people he met, the friends he made, and the stories he must have come across at such a young age.

He continued school until grade level 9, and received a Brevet diploma. He then thought it was time for him to find a full-time job, as there were more mouths to feed at home. So, at 15 years he headed to Saudi, to work in a bakery and send some money back home. He stayed there for two years, after which he returned home to teach in his village in an elementary school for three years. At age 19, he began working at the parliament as a bodyguard to some key political figures at that time.

I never cease to wonder what might have been going through his mind and how he was developing his views on such a harsh world he was faced with. He would have liked to be an engineer, or to continue his high school degree, but times were tough. Politics in Lebanon were unstable, his siblings were growing up with more demands, and he had his only life to consider.

After a few years of working in parliament he decided to move on, and try and make it on his own. At this point he began his career as a businessman. With no degree, or college education, he began his own work. He simply started buying merchandise from Beirut and selling it in his village in Southern Lebanon. He was able to raise good money some times, and decided to expand his work by travelling to Italy and importing merchandise to sell in Lebanon. After working hard to reach this stage, he met a good man in Italy who loaned him some money to expand his business, believing in his capabilities as a businessman, and sympathizing with his conditions.

His business kept on growing, and he began exploring other countries, such as Romania, Brazil and Bulgaria. He started up his company in those countries too, and started employing some of his relatives who needed jobs. Soon enough, most of his siblings and cousins were depending on him for survival, and he had gained a very high and respectful status within his family and village. People started looking to him for help, and financial support.

By the 1980's my dad decided it was time for him to start his own family, after he had supported the marriage of most of his brothers. He had met my mother a few years back and thought she was the woman for him, and so, he asked for her hand in marriage, and of course, she accepted.

Here I am now, contemplating the decisions my father had to make, and which have influenced numerous people around him. His dedication to his siblings, his pursuit of a brighter future, and his commitment to his work, all such admirable qualities have shaped the lives of many generations to come. He supported many of my cousins through college, graduating as engineers, pharmacists and architects. I feel his influence on people's life in my community will always live on. Despite him not being able to get a full education, he has offered it to many people, who would not have got it otherwise. He offered hope to people who needed it, and provided a way out for many who were suffering.

There are so many other ways my father's life could have played out. If he decided to stay in Italy, or get involved with the wrong people, or give up on his family, things would have been different.

For this reason, dad, I have to thank you for my life and for everything I have achieved or may achieve. You are my strength, my hope, and my motivation.

It was my father's financial status and social belief in education, and my mother's dedication to our well being that got me to the American School at Beirut. Growing up with the best education in Lebanon offered me many opportunities. One of the most critical decisions in my life till now was coming to Qatar to study at Weill Cornell Medical College, and that would not have been possible without my father's background and support.

Thank you dad for believing in me, for giving me the freedom to pursue what I want, and for supporting me, regardless of where I am. Not only do you provide me with all the financial support I may need, but your moral support, and experience in life have encouraged me to pursue my goals thus far.

Understanding where I come from and how my father's generation had to suffer for my generation to have a better life, is empowering and inspiring. Through my career, I hope to continue my father's message of helping and caring for others. He has equipped me with such essential lessons in life, and I feel I am able to stand on my own now, because of my knowledge of his struggles and how much strength and patience his life demanded of him. I appreciate this life and all we have been blessed with, because of his memories of hardship.

Again, thank you Dad, a thousand times and more for sacrificing many aspects of your life for a better future for your children and relatives. I hope that you see the fruit of all your efforts through the generation you have supported to succeed. I also hope that you are able to find some calmness and joy in your life after observing and experiencing poverty and struggle. You are a superman, and you deserve everything good in life.

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I Would Love To Be A Hero.

By: Maryam Ahmed Al-Boainin

I remember the days that I saw him as a hero. Once he was a life saver, a man who makes fear disappear but one night he was all of those.  
He was and will be a superman even more; he makes everyday special everyday is a day to remember.

Since the day I was born I knew he was the perfect dad, he inspired me in his job, communications with people and even with animals he is the most special gift god gave to me and I wouldn't ever want to lose it. Every day I wake up in the morning, I see his face, he takes me to school, he talks to me and advises me, he even check if I had homework undone that I must complete so he would help me. But he wasn't there when he was sick, he told me of those things in his bed.

I came back from school and found him sick. I tried to tell him to go to hospital, but he doesn't respond. His only words were "I am fine besides I hate going to the hospital again and again."

My grandfather took him to the hospital. He was freezing and tired, he wouldn't even move a single bone. He went to the doctor's room, and the doctors said to him "You need rest and medication."

My dad asked him "shall I spend the day here?"

The doctor said that he will spend the day and maybe a week too. I was so frightened and shocked why will my dad stay there?

I started crying and repeating "my dad will die, my dad will die..."

But my mom and my sisters started to calm me down and my brother went to my dad and stayed for the night with my grandfather. After three days, the doctors are filling the room having tests but they didn't have answers to what happened with my dad, and every time I look at his face and see him smiling teardrops start filling my eyes, I couldn't help see him lay down on the hospital bed.

Two days later, the week is going to finish soon and still the doctors haven't got an answer to his sickness but while I was lying down on the chair I had a dream

It was a terrible dream that I don't want to have it again. I heard the doctor saying to my dad, mom and my elder brother something about the sickness but at the main time is was getting back from the restroom and sneakily I heard them taking about that sickness. It was about dad that the disease was bad and he was going to die sooner or later and my heart started to stop beating and I suddenly woke up and was scared and started to ask dad how was he? Is he ok? Did the doctors say anything? All of them were no, no and no.

I said to mom if I could go and buy some food because I was hungry and she replied "yes". I went to the canteen and I saw the doctor. I asked him if my dad is going to be ok and what's the problem and why don't they find an answer to his disease.

"I haven't got the answer yet but soon he will recover and be healthy."

I closed my eyes and said "I hope so."

I returned back and saw my dad lying down on the bed peacefully and looked back to mom she had teardrops falling down her eyes and up to her checks. At that moment she saw me and wiped off her tears and said to me that everything is going to be alright. As the moon starts to rise I went back with my brothers and sisters home but I couldn't sleep, couldn't stop thinking about dad.

I went to up to my sister and asked her if dad is going to be alright she answered yes and said come on go to sleep, tomorrow I will take you school but actually I didn't, I haven't slept the night, I was exhausted.

I went to visit dad in the morning and the doctors thought maybe it would be cancer but that wasn't the final answer and asked him if he smoke cigarettes and he said "yes, I smoke."

We were so terrified of what may happen. Is he going to die or live we don't know but the doctors and the nurses began to medicate him and he told my grandfather and he rushed to the hospital. I was praying day and night but the week finished and another week started but the doctors aren't sure that was the answer but my dad didn't give up or said that it was his fault that he may die but he had destiny, hope and became an inspiration to the ones who smoke but the most important thing he said also that to die is from God, it is like a tree every yellow sick leaf falls like life everyone who falls very ill dies. I believed it and said to myself that dad is a hero and may be a life saver for someone but, the medication continued and I was so sad that maybe one day I would lose him.

I started to think about what mom always says to me when I have those terrible dreams, she says that if you love someone and you had a bad dream about him that it was the opposite, it is a good thing, and I figured the dream I saw that was horrible about dad and thought maybe if maybe it was the opposite, maybe he was going to come up well and come back home and I had my hopes up for it. I went home at night and came back the other day I saw him coughing and tired I said no, this couldn't be the day; I let my hopes up and know he is ill. I started to say to him "Dad please stay don't go away I want you I am not ready to leave you just like a bird I can't fly without you by my side."

He said I will always be there I am fine I am yours and you are mine.

I had a terrible month and I wish for everyone to have the best moments with their fathers because they are precious gifts and you will be lucky to have them with you.

They are all heroes...

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Why I love my Dad

By: Megan Binnekamp

Everyone has an important role model in their life.

Dads are important role models in everybody's life, especially mine. Most commonly known as the playful parent, they're always there if you need some fun time or just someone to spend quality time with.

My dad fits this description perfectly.

Ever since I was little, I've had people commenting on how alike my dad and I look. People would tell me that if I had less hair, and was taller, I would look exactly like him. Well that isn't the only thing we have in common. We enjoy playing sports together at the weekends and after school. My personal favourite is basketball and his is squash but we play a range of both. Another thing is the music and movies we like. Both of us love classic rock and listen to plenty of music from the 80's. Friday night's watching movies are great fun since we can agree on a movie we both want to watch without any arguments.

As well as similarities, we also have some things that do not please us both. Well of course we do, as no person is exactly alike another. Life would be boring if we were all the same. There's this new TV series that has just come out. My dad loves it whereas I think it's overly annoying and cheesy. We both endure each other's opinions though, which just proves that we love each other! Also, as said earlier, we both love sports but we prefer different sports. Sometimes I have to give up playing my favourite game so we can play the one my dad wants and he does the same for me. It's only fair. As for his job, my dad works with computers, and he really enjoys his work. To be honest, I don't see myself working with that in the future, not that it's a bad job or anything, just that it doesn't suit me.

I have always admired my dad. When I was little I would be thrilled if I found out something that we both share in common. I wanted to be just like him. I followed him and he didn't seem to mind, so I just followed him some more. Now that I'm older, I wouldn't say I follow him around everywhere, but it is so easy to respect him and be lead by him. As kind and gentle as he is, my dad also has this sort of authority in his voice that just makes you want to listen to his ideas. His opinion really matters to me and it's great to have someone who you can ask for advice from and know you're going to get a respectful answer. I've been deeply influenced by my dad. Ever since I was little my dad has helped me with something that I've always felt passionate for, swimming. Having grown up in Australia, water and beaches were everywhere. My parents would take me to pools all the time and my dad would teach me how to swim until I didn't need floaters any more, and then I'd be swimming on my own, until the point that I started competitive swimming, and participated in many competitions. Thanks to him that I got to experience the adrenaline rush of diving into the pool as the starter whistle blows, and then swimming like that's all you ever do. It's a phenomenal feeling.

As well as being influenced, I also learnt a lot from him. Survival skills are essential to know, especially being from Australia where there are poisonous animals and strong water currents. He'd tell me exactly what to do if I were caught in a riptide. Just swim parallel to the beach he'd say. Once he told me about a time he got trapped in a really strong river current, but survived because he knew what to do and that's pretty inspiring.

When I was little, we'd have classes on what to do if a snake crossed our path. We were told to pause, and stay as still as we could. My dad used to test me on it, just to make sure I'd know for sure what to do. When walking on narrow paths surrounded by bushes, he would grab a long stick, throw it on the ground in front of me and then shout "It's a snake! What do you do?" I would immediately freeze of course, having learnt to in school. But it made me feel better that my dad cared enough to just double check that I knew my survival skills. He did this just about every time we went walking.

Doha, as you can tell after living here, is a fantastic place for opportunity and experiences. I have lived here five years and seen more things and gone more places than I ever have before. When you live in other countries, you stay there for holidays and don't really fly anywhere as it's too expensive. Here though, I've visited many of my dream destinations. Also, I got to watch the Asian games, see the Tribeca film festival, and go to a live concert. I'm listing all of these amazing experiences, as none of them would have been possible without my dad. For starters he got the tickets and did all the organizing for all the events. But the main point is that my dad is the one that chose for us to live in Qatar, and he works really hard every day so that we get to stay here and be able to live the life we have here. For that I am extremely grateful to my dad.

So, I am who I am today because of my dad. He raised me to be cautious, to love life, and to not waste time over people who aren't important. And that is why I love my Dad. I love the way he's always there for me, I love the way that he was the perfect role model, I love the way he smiles and laughs all the time, I love the way I can talk for hours with him and not stop, I love the way he supports me through everything, I love the way he's given me many brilliant opportunities, I love my Dad.

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Hats Off To You, Dad

By: Meghna Dipaksinh Jadav

"One of best gifts I ever got, came from God, I call him DAD!"

I am Meghana Dipaksinh Jadav and my father's name is Dipaksinh Shivnathsinh Jadav. I am neither a poet nor a great writer to write great lines on my father, but I am sure I can do a little from my side to say "I LOVE YOU PAPA". I love you for the love I share with you.

My father, now 43, is a true gentleman. He is a health-conscious and a very caring person... Personally, he is an elegant, smart and a really young man. He is my only crush. He currently resides in Doha, Qatar and works for Qatar Petroleum as a senior mechanical engineer. I too was residing in Doha till May 2010, and now I am in India for my further studies at Sardar Vallabhai National Institute of Technology, Gujarat, India. It's a beautiful Monday morning, 8am, as I sit in my hostel room, to pen down my thoughts on my father.

Life has really changed a lot since past three months (since I left Qatar). I have a hostel room rather than my "own" room. It's not my dad who wakes me up every morning. It's not my mother who washes my clothes. I don't have the taste of my mother's food at my every meal. But still, I somehow enjoy my life. There is beautiful greenery and peacocks in my hostel garden(right outside my hostel), fun-loving friends with whom you can laugh, cry, study, scream around, trouble wardens, sleep at 1.am ,and live with no restrictions, etc. I have practically no time to sit back and stare as studies have taken over me. But somewhere in between this fast life----I recall these memories weeping silently thinking of my dad...

It was a Thursday morning, in Qatar and I had declared that I wanted a new cell phone though I was just 15. Why? Oh c'mon, every teenager has it by the time he/she is 15!! And I think my dad had bitten his tongue at this point because he did not say "a cell phone? Why? What is the landline for? So what if your friends have it? We already have a cell phone, you can use mine. Why waste money on all such things?" Instead he said- "ok fine. I will buy you, but on one condition, after your class10 boards, only if you score well". I couldn't wait for it. My mind murmured "What's the point if you don't get what you want at the right time? Don't we hear people say "things should be done at the right time"? Oh c'mon, he has fulfilled so many demands for my younger brother. Does he not care for me?" I passed my days sulking away with the routine and I had forgotten about this topic. And after my 10th results, I couldn't help laughing at how silly I had been after I got that cell phone of mine...

As I grew up, I became more mature and started caring for my skin and beauty and looks, like a "normal" 17 year old. It was Friday afternoon around 12.30pm in Qatar, and I had waxed my hands and legs. On the next day, I developed side-effects as rashes on my hands and legs. My dad was very upset and I assumed what he wanted to say—"What's wrong with you? I like you the way you are. For years I am working hard to instil in you that your appearance doesn't matter as much as what's inside you. What's happening to my little girl? I feel like a failure as father. You are caved on complete peer pressure. Why do you do it when you know it's making your skin worse?" I loved the way my father remains puzzled at some things "teenage girls" have to do. With time, he has accepted me now as I am.

He is a very passionate and a mature man, because no matter what the day, he gets up before 8.am and makes sure that he spends time with my brother for a match of cricket and for me chatting up and letting me out my problems. He always accompanies my mother for the smallest things and household and would drop me to my tuitions after his work, in spite of driving 2 hrs 5 days a week, which is not an easy thing. He has always placed his family as the first priority. He is fondly called the "ideal husband" by his colleagues. But I never remember him taking me and my brother or my mother out to buy something for himself. What matters to him the most is his family's well-being.

I miss teasing my dad about Shahrukh Khan (his favourite Bollywood actor). I miss opening the door every time he returns from the office. I miss serving him with a sweet dish, which he would try to avoid (because he is health-conscious), but won't be able to and then workout for an hour on treadmill to burn the calories he gained.

Now that I study in India, though miles apart from him, I recall how dedicated a man can be. I study in my hometown in India and my parents are still in Qatar. I miss him every day at my meal, as I recall him saying "Eat green vegetables and drink a lot of water "...I have grown as a person with time and have met a lot of people but not a single one who would advice me on time-management (his favourite), who would come to my study table every now then just to serve me a glass of water, who would talk to me sitting beside me till I fell asleep. Now, I talk to him on phone about my hostel and say at times– "Papa I m not feeling well." And we would instantly get tensed up saying-"Take XYZ tablets. Are you drinking enough water and taking a good care of your health?" and he would finish his talk consoling himself (not me)—" we are here and you are afar. "You need to be independent and do your work without taking things lightly." But I am sure that somewhere beneath his talks, he misses me as much as I do. Me and dad laugh talking about, the girls in hostel who cry thinking of parents, but today I want to let you know that I'm also one of those, at times.

I love my father for the way he takes care of me, the way he advises, the way he supports me, the way he loves me, the way he sacrifices for me, the way he encourages me, the way he gets funny with me...and..(The list will not come to an end). I thank my father for being with me since my Day-1 on this earth and forever.

I want to salute him for being such a wonderful dad. I love you so much Papa...

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Why My Dad is Special to Me

By: Mohammed Al Kubaisi

Not all fathers are special, I think. Does your father take you to interesting places? Does your father buy you most of the things that you want? My father does! My father is special to me because he is the leader of the family, he lets us travel and he buys things for me.

First, my father is special to me because he is the leader of the family. He is a good leader because he takes us to the best schools and if we need things he gives us what we need. I love to make decisions. My dad, he makes decisions, like he says what to put or not put in the house. For example, if I want to buy a new cabinet or a new bed I ask my dad. Or if we want to travel he will say, "Ok," or, "I have work, we can't travel, sorry." I want to make decisions like this and to be a leader of something when I grow up. I learn to think about things before I make a decision by watching and listening to my dad.

My dad buys for me and my brother, Fahad, and my three sisters what we want. But he sees if it will help us or not. If the thing we want helps us for school, for reading and writing, he buys it for us. For example, my dad bought for me a CD that taught me how to talk English better and to know the words. Like this, my dad is special to me. He does all of these things and makes the decisions about good things and bad things because he wants me to learn and have a nice future.

Every year my dad takes us to a different country. Last summer my dad took us to Switzerland and London and this summer my dad took us to London. We went to lots of different places like Harrods. My dad and I went to Harrods. We walked and sat in a coffee shop. We drank coffee and we had a talk about school. He asked me if everything is ok in the school and other things like if I needed something. He said for me things like, "if you need a tutor to help you because you don't understand, I will help you." I feel like he cares about me and helps me.

My dad took me and my brother to Hyde Park. We sat and ate pizza and then we had a little walk. My dad took our family to the guards of the palace. The guards don't talk. I thought that was weird. Then my dad and I went to the London Eye. The London Eye is like a roller coaster but it goes around and around. It was scary because it went very high. I said, "I will not go there." My dad said if you don't want to, we will not go. I felt happy that he said, don't go if it will be scary. We were walking, my dad and I, we saw Big Ben and London Bridge. It was nice there and I had lots of fun there. My dad told us about history and wars. I think my dad is smart because he knows the history of the UK. He told me about the history but I forgot. I want to be smart like my dad when I grow up. Like this, my dad is special to me. Not every dad takes his family to other countries. In London we mostly ate ice cream because the ice cream there is sweet and nice. We love it!

Another example of how my father is special to me is, he buys things for me. One day we were sitting in the living room, I asked my dad, "Can I have an iPad?" He said, "O.k., but what is an iPad?" I took my brother's laptop and went to Google and I showed my dad the iPad. He asked, "is it Touch?" I said, "yes." He said ok, but not this month.

Next month we went to London. I said when will you buy for me the iPad? He said when we come back. I waited for like three days. Then I was walking in London with my sister and I saw an Apple Shop. I went inside. I saw a Mac Book, iPhone 4G, and iPods and iPads. I saw it! The iPad I wanted! And I saw some covers for the iPads. We came back to Qatar. I was so angry and I said, "When?! When will you buy me an iPad?" My dad said the 4th day of Eid. I said, after the 4th day of Eid you will say the last day of school. My dad was disappointed and he said 4th day of Eid, finished! Don't talk to me about it again or I will not buy it for you! I waited and then on the 4th day of Eid, my dad and I went to Landmark Mall and he bought it for me. I was so happy and I bought a cover. When we went home I said to my eldest sister that I bought an iPad and I want you to put for me games. She said ok and put games on for me. I am saying that my dad is special because if it was not for my dad, I will not have an iPad. My dad didn't lie to me and kept his promise. He always keeps his promises and like this my dad is special to me.

So, you can see that my father is special to me because he is the leader of the family. He lets us travel and he buys for me. When we were in London we had lots of fun there and it was special. My father bought for me an iPad and I was very happy.

Finally, he teaches me to be a good person and he teaches me to take good decisions. I love my dad so much. Back to Contents Page

My Dad and Me

By: Mohammed Bin Salman Al-Sudairy

Each culture, its people or children treat their father in different way. There are some cultures that force you to respect them, but some that tell them they have their choice. I think they should respect their father, because the father is the one who provide for basic things like, eat, drink, and sleep. When you think about what he does to make you happy, he will play with you, buy you things that you wish to have. However we will not forget our mothers because they have different stories. In my society, Saudi Arabia, culture, and religion they gave the importance to the father. I love my father for everything he does for me. He makes me laugh, makes me do good things and not the bad, teaches me my religion, and play with me.

My cousin travelled with his father to London and was caring for his father. He was carrying the bags and holding the umbrella over him not wanting the rain to come on his father's head. While he was walking, an old lady came to him and asked him "are you a slave?" "He smiled and said why madam?" she gave him a weird face and said "ok why are you carrying his things and holding the umbrella?" he looked and said "he is my father and I care about him, if he wants me to carry him all around London I will".

In Saudi Arabia and other gulf countries we treat our fathers in different way. They do a lot of things for us. They work for us to give us a better life, teach us how to be men and adults.

I have a story from when I was fifteen years old; I was in Egypt on a vacation. My father was with us for three days then he went back to Saudi Arabia for a business meeting. The meeting went fine. He stayed that day with my oldest uncle, his name is Uncle Faisal, and they were sitting together and waiting for dinner to be served. Suddenly my father felt something in his heart, something painful. He fainted and didn't know what was happening. He had a heart attack. They took him to the hospital and, thank God, everything went well. In Egypt they called me and told me, I didn't know what to do. I started crying and I started praying for him, I wished that I was there next to him to feel safe, and help him to do whatever I can to make him feel better. Thank God, all that went well and he is now alright.

My father is my best friend he always is there for me.

While I was in Qatar Leadership Academy - it is a boarding school - something happened to me one day. I was upset and I called my father. He asked me, "Mohammed what's wrong with your voice, are you upset?" I said, "No sir, everything is ok and I just miss you and the rest of the family". He didn't believe me. He knows my voice and can tell if I am upset but I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want him to worry. He was supposed to go to London the following day for a business meeting and sign a contract with a company to work in The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. He called the company and said, "Cancel the meeting till I call you and organize another meeting because I have to go to my son" the next day he came from Saudi to Qatar and came to school and took me out for a long weekend. He made my day and made me the happiest son in this good world. He treats me like a man and trusts me. Whatever I want, he never says no, but I have to earn it.

Last year in December 2009 we were together in the living room talking. I wanted to ask him something but I couldn't work it out as to how to ask him; I was too shy to ask him. Then I had the courage and asked him, "Dad I want to buy a new sport car, if you don't mind?" He looked at me and said, "Son, are you doing well in school?" I looked at him and smiled "It is my best grades and I am trying my best to do better". My father looked at his lap top and opened Google and said, "Mohammed what is your new sport car looks like?" and gave me the look that he doesn't mind that I buy one. I was happy and hugged him very tight and I promised him that I will push myself harder and he won't regret.

The next day my dad and I went to select the colour. My dad gave them the check and I gave them my ID card so they could put the car under my name. After couple of days I went and collected the car. It was one of my best days ever. It was very fast and the engine sounded perfect. I was showing of in front of my friends I liked it. Four months later I was in Saudi Arabia. My friends were with me in the car and we were having fun and going at high speed. Suddenly a big truck with sleepy driver bumped at the back, I started flipping with the car. While I was flipping I was seeing like a tape in front of me the things I did in life, it was scary. Also I was thinking about my father, is he going to be mad at me, will something happen to him if I die or something serious will happen to me? When I realized that I am still on this earth, and not dead I immediately called my youngest uncle and told him what had happened to me. I didn't want to call my father because I was scared something might happen to him if I phone him. My uncle said, "Ok Mohammed, wait for me I will come to the hospital and call your father from there and explain to him that you're ok and not injured". He came and we called my father and I told him that we had a small accident and nothing happened to me but the car is damaged. He screamed and said, "I don't care about the car. Cars can be fixed but what about your health Mohammed, are you ok?" I explained to him that I was ok and my health was fine and I was trying to calm him down and I was scared that his heart couldn't take it. But thank God, nothing happened to him and me.

My father is the best man in this world. He cares, trust, and does a lot of things, fixed my mistakes. I pray for him and my mother to live a long life and help me to return them everything I can to make them happy, I know that I can never repay everything, but I will do my best.

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My Wonderful Father

By: Mohammed Jaber Essa Al-Kubaisi

My story is different; my story is about an extraordinary man. He drew my path and my future. Once I thought that I was alone and nobody would help me in this world. I have three sisters and brothers, but he was my big brother. He was also my best friend that I can tell him about my stories. Not only that, he shaped my personality in that whenever I go they say you are the son of that man. Even my dress, talk, calmness, looks, and perfumes they all integrated from him. He is my father and he is my best friend.

My father took on his responsibility when he was young. He had four brothers, but he was the only one who cares about his family. His mom, my grandmother, died when he was five years old. My grandfather raised him and tried to get him the best education as he could that time. During that era which was early after discovering the oil in Qatar. The education was really simple, people study Quran with a person called Al-Mulla. In his village, he studied with Al-Mulla Hussain Ahmed Al-Mutawa. He loved his father in a way that he still talks about him when we sit on one table for lunch or dinner. After his father got old, he took care of him. My grandfather told my father that he should try to find a girl get married and so he can start his own life, but he insisted on helping his father.

He took him to Egypt trying to find the best therapy for him that time, but unfortunately they could not help that much. He returned to Doha with him and my grandfather insisted to get him married soon. So my father went to that Mulla Hussain Al-Mutawa and he proposed for his daughter, who is my wonderful mother. Few years after he got married, my grandfather died in his house. I remember my father told me, "I cried all day for my father and I ask God to take him to heaven." My father was so special son to his father. His relationship with him was beyond a father to his son, it was brotherhood.

After my grandfather's death, my mother told me once that he used to visit his grave every Friday after Al-Jumaa Prayer. He was so faithful to him even after he died. Years after his father's death, he took again the responsibility of his family, sisters and brothers. He tried to be the father of this family. My mom told me also that he bought a big house and asked all of his brothers with their wives to live in the same house. If my uncles need anything or if they faced difficulties, they would come to him and ask for a help. He was not selfish at all and he gave all what he learned from his family.

The days and years went on, me and my sisters were born in that big house. My father felt that we need some privacy, so he bought a small house for us and gave that big house to the family. I was a child that time and I barely remember what was happening in the big house. I asked my sisters and they told me that they miss their childhood with their cousins, they had wonderful memories in the old house. I grew up in the small house and since I was young I begin to notice my father's character and his behaviour.

He was used to visit his brothers once a week. He tries to check whether they need any help as well as sitting with them. After I finished my preparatory school, he took me with him to family visits and I begin to feel this family bond during these visits. Not only within the family, was he used to take me him for different visits and events: weddings, death funeral, sword dancing events, and poetry competition. Before we get out, he always teach me how to dress and how my look should be when we go out for people. My father took care of how he looks. When he visits important people, he wears white thoube and white ghatrah. When he is casual, he dresses yellow thoube with red ghatra. Also, he likes to put nice perfumes when he dresses. When he walks at any place, people will know his presence in that place because of the fragrance he lets out.

I grew up in his hands. He liked me and he sees the future in my eyes. He tried as much as possible to teach me valuable lessons in my life. Whenever I'm confused about important decisions in my life, he likes to help me to take the right one. I remember, once I was confused between two universities to choose, either engineering school or business? He sat with me all day and ordered me to write the positive and negative outcomes of my decision. And Thank God, I choose the engineering school and I'm really happy with it. What about my sisters? He also likes to sit with them and tell them nice jokes about his childhood. My mother is also taking care of my sisters and she plays the same role of my father with them. This wonderful man really developed my personality as well as my appearance.

Now my father is an old man, and he is in his sixties. I'm twenty two years old and my job is to take care of him. This wonderful man is sick and old. I'm responsible now to take him to his brothers and for family visits. I took him for every sword dancing event prepared by our family. I begin to take his role and the family responsibility. All what he taught me, I learned by heart. It is the time to tell my father that I care for what you thought when I was young and I am thankful for everything you did for me.

Once he asked me a question. Guess what he asked? "When will you get married?"

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To My Father

By: Moustafa Amin Mohammed Ali

"The one, who is always there. The man who gave me freedom and taught me how to be a real man"

Born sound like all babies, I was a source of joy and happiness to my parents. After six months, I was taken to hospital because of suspicious paralysis. Doctors told my parents that my case will be a hopeless case unless I get the sufficient physiotherapy treatment daily and intensively.

Words can never tell the hardship and the tough conditions of life my parents had faced to provide me with the expensive daily-prescribed treatment until at last I could walk, but with impairments in my left leg and right arm.

My father was greatly worried concerning my future. How could my son be able to continue life like that? How would he be able to live in a community? What kind of feeling would he suffer when he see other kids running while he cannot? What is it in my hand that I can do for him? So many questions with no answers!

At the age of six, my father noticed that I have a sweet voice and a well-talking tongue. He worked immediately on this. He trained me to master the recitation of the Holy Qur'an and memorize some important poems. There are lots of contests of recitation in most Arab countries. So, my father let me participate in the Holy Qur'an recitation contests in Egypt. To his excitement, I got the first place in most contests of recitations of the Holy Qur'an and the Arabic language religious public speaking contests. What I best remember at this time is his great inspiring words that I would never ever forget: "Moustafa, You Are the best! Go. You are up to that"

With these simple and magic words, he inculcated success and built it up inside my soul. This took me from success to another.

Another thing that he taught me in a practical way is self- independence in a way that made me able to face the challenges of the modern world. You might not believe me if I told you that I was the man in charge of processing my brother's IDs, health cards, birth certificates and other things form the governmental, civil, and social and other agencies, at the age of eight.

At the age of 12, I got the first place all over the Arab Republic of Egypt in religious public speaking for young learners.

I can remember that he was always there to assist me in everything he thought I would need, but only with a watching eye. He never interfered in my decisions except in the right time. He kept an eye on everything I did, just to make sure I did it in a proper way.

I would like to say that this story I am telling about my father means too much to me, not only because it is a sign of gratitude or respect to him but because it reminds me of the time he was shaping my character as well, the time I was being made.

He taught me another thing which is very important; he taught me to be tolerant with all people even those who try to harm me. This gave me freedom in all aspects of my life. It gave me the freedom of thinking, the freedom of love, freedom of expressing good feeling to people...

At the age of 20, I got the third place in the table tennis championship for the disabled and in the same year I got the third place in the Team chess championship for youth.

Few years after, I held the post of an English teacher in one of the governmental school. You may get perplexed for such a turning from contests of Qur'an recitation and Sports achievements to an educational career. Well, let me explain this to you in the following few lines:

Since I was 10, my father used to give me private lessons in most subjects; such as Arabic, English, and Social studies. I loved the way he taught me, yet I didn't like to be a teacher. All that I wanted was to fulfil at this age was to speak English fluently. But I noticed that when some friends of mine ask questions related to our school classes, I start explain it in the same way my father used to. At this stage, and to my father's astonishment, I started being a private tutor to students younger than me. You won't believe it if I told you that I gave basic English lessons to beginners for a bottle of milk per class. It may make you laugh that my fee grew to be 3 bottles of milk a week. Indeed, most people in Egypt are poor but they are striving to educate their kids. That's why I was able to continue teaching in order to do something to my family with my father. And that's why I am sure that Allah has granted me and my family a wonderful father who sacrificed his pleasure and everything in order that his kids could lead a happy life. He was always planning to the future of his family and forgetting all about himself.

When I came to find my dream girl and we decided to get married, he worked day and night to build a flat for me and my wife in his own house from his own money. I can't prevent my tears from flooding while writing these words as I am asking myself what is that I have done to deserve a great father like my father. He is the most wonderful man I have ever seen.

I do love my father and I'm used to kissing his hands every day when I wake up and before sleeping. I am full of respect to this great person who taught me how to be a real man. Indeed, my father is the father I admire most. He was the first one to unlock my potential.

At last, I would like to express my greatest gratitude to my father and say to him: "Oh, my Daddy. I would never ever be able to pay you back. THANK YOU and May Allah bless you"

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My Life with My Father

By: Nadia Al Majid

Does your dad get really happy around the T.V. when a football player gets a goal? Does your dad do crazy things to make you laugh? There are a lot of things that a father does which make them special. My father is special to me because he loves me, teaches me and takes me places.

One reason why my father is special to me is because sometimes I want things and I get them and sometimes I don't get what I want. Like this one time when me and my sisters wanted a cat. We all were saying to our dad everyday that we wanted a cat. It annoyed him so much and he also felt sorry for us so he said okay. So my younger sister Maha went with my dad to Souq Waqif at about five o'clock in the afternoon. Souk Waqif is a traditional Arabic market in Doha where I live. Maybe an hour and half later the doorbell rang and the little ball of fluff in a big cage came in. My sister was holding the cage. My dad came in after her. My sister put the cage on the floor and opened the cage and this little big- eyed kitten came out. It was a bit scared but it started to walk around the house. My dad said that the man at Souq Waqif said that the cat was Persian. But later on we found out that she was not Persian, she was an Angora. We played with the cat all night but she kept looking all around the house. We were also thinking about what to name her. She looked really cute but underneath that she was pure evil, like if you touch her belly a little hard she bites you. And so we all agreed to name her Sushi because she looked like a Sushi and most of sushi is all white and she is all white. Before my dad wouldn't let us have a cat and finally he gave in. This is the first time he gave in. For this, I think he is special.

My father is special to me because he teaches me new things. One day a few years ago in the morning my dad told me and my sisters to change our clothes and to get into the car. My mom packed food and drinks for us. We drove for maybe an hour. We all looked out the window and saw water and sand. There we were at the beach! No people were there. We were so happy that we all rushed out of the car door. Some of us were running around and some of us were building sand castles. My mom and dad got out the food and carpet from the car. I and my sisters also helped them. My dad got out the fishing blocks. A fishing block is a piece of wood and in the middle is a fishing line attached to it. It's an old Qatari tradition to use a fishing block for fishing. I sat on a rock and my dad told me to hold the fishing block with both hands and to not let go of the wood and to wait patiently. I held on the block and it felt like forever. You wait until a fish bites the line. Finally, a fish bit the line and it was pulling really hard and I was only a child and it was my first time fishing so I was scared and I gave the fishing block to my dad. The fish put up a good fight but after a while my dad reeled the fish in and it was not too small and not too big. It was perfect! We ate sushi that night and no I don't mean my cat, I mean the fish! The reason why I remember this was because it was my first time catching a fish and because I was scared of the fish. I also felt like my dad was proud of me and so I was really happy. I will always remember this.

My father is special to me as he takes me to different places and we have fun. For example, one time maybe about two years ago my uncle called my dad and told him to come to his friend's farm and to bring his wife and kids. The next day in the morning we got ready and got in the car and my dad drove the car. It was hard to find the farm because there was more than one farm. It took like forever, well that's what it felt like, and it was bumpy. When we looked out the window we were in the desert we saw sand and a lot of small rocks. We were following our uncle's car the whole way. Then we finally were at the farm. The doors were made out of wood pieces and they were big. After entering the farm the car stopped and so we all got out of the car. There was a little house in front of the car so we walked around the house and at the side of the house was a pool a lot of plants and we sat on the grassy floor with my dad's family. Some of the kids were chasing each other, some were sitting, some of the kids had their feet in the pool and others were swimming in the pool. I didn't feel like sitting or playing. I wanted to look around. I went on the other side of the house and there was a big field the size of a football field. There was a horse being washed by some guy who worked at the farm. I watched the guy wash the horse, then after a while he stared to dry off the horse with a towel. Then after the horse was dry he brushed the horse. Finally, when the horse was sparkly clean they fed the horse some green plants. Then when the horse was finally done eating, the guy started to put the saddle and other stuff on the horse. When the horse was done and ready, my dad helped me on the horse. He held the rope that was in the horse's mouth and around his head. He took me around the football field. After me a few other kids went on the horse and then they got bored so they went back to the other side of the house. There was only me and my mom and dad outside so my dad had a go on the horse. Surprisingly, my dad was pretty good! I thought he would fall off, but he didn't. I really didn't think that my dad could ride a horse. This memory is special to me because we all had so much fun.

As you can see my father is special to me because he loves me, teaches me and takes me places. My father is exciting, not one of those boring dads. We do so many funny things together and I love to be with him. I tell my dad that I love him so he will be forced to say it back.

When I hear my dad say he loves me it really means that he loves me.

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Superman Is Not Immortal

By: Najla Khalid Alhajri

February 19, 2008 a beautiful day for me to turn sixteen, and I thought happy days will never end until suddenly I came to know that my sweet sixteen was not sweet after all. They told me my father is in the hospital, but not to worry as it is a fever and he will be better soon. I smiled with relief thinking he will be home next day. But days went on and my father was still in the hospital and he was becoming worse, eventually they told me he was going to London!! I did not know how to react to that. But seeing the serious look on my family's faces frightened me because it seemed as if everyone knew what was happening to my father except me. Before leaving he had his dinner with us, we sat together, though silent most of the time, he had a smile on his face and then the moment of saying bye came too quickly, he kissed me on the forehead saying just "bye"- a simple word but what I saw in his eyes was goodbye and the tears he was trying to hold back. I watched him walking to the car with tired steps and it broke my heart as I hadn't seen my father this sick. To me He was like Superman, always smiling and giving everyone a relief, but today I saw a different side of my father.

After a week we got a phone call from him, my mother answered that call and he told her he is diagnosed with blood cancer, he was so quiet and calm. I was not surprised by his reaction because he was always like that-- a really patient man. The news was shocking for us and we could not believe it. I thank the latest technology of internet we use today, to stay connected to each other and which I used to stay in touch with my father through video chatting during his chemo therapy. It was sad that I couldn't go to London.

I decided to change especially in school. I wanted my father to be happy with my grades so I raised it from 69% to 92%. I don't know what changes happened in me during that time, but these four months have been enough to make me mature and to rethink about so many things. I have never met someone else like him in my entire life. He used to encourage me and loved me so much, I felt so secure around him, and he used to give me a hug reassuring me that everything is fine! After four months of battle with cancer the doctors told my mom that he didn't have much time and maybe he wanted to go back to Qatar to say goodbye to his loved ones. On hearing the news of my father's return I put on a stupid childish smile on my face, not thinking of any bad thoughts, feeling that my Superman is coming home.

Finally the day I had been waiting for arrived, I was so excited, I wanted to hug my father and smell his fragrance that was so distinctively his. But my mom came home alone because my father was admitted to the hospital because of his illness. I couldn't understand why my mom's expressions were like someone was dead. She couldn't even stand; she simply entered the house and fell down crying. I wanted to go to the hospital the whole day, but every time I was told that the hospital is crowded with my father's friends and visitors.

The times I have spent with my father, I have always found him loving and caring, humble and kind. I was surprised with the number of people who loved him; he never talked about the poor people he helped secretly. My father was a rich man, he was at a high post but he was not at all arrogant, he was an ordinary man with a great personality and amazing patience.

At last they told me I could visit him in the morning. That night I couldn't sleep, I was waiting for the morning to go and see him. Just when I fell asleep I heard someone's crying voice and that was it, I didn't even want to hear it in words, I didn't want to hear that superman is dead because for me it was unbelievable.

The best thing after all was that I had no regrets or something to tell my father because I had shown him that I loved him every single day, I remember, once he was going to travel because of work and he had to stay out of the country for a longer period. I wrote him a letter expressing how I appreciated everything he did and I told him, he is the best father in the world. I told him to read it while he was on the airplane. I was ten years old and it brought tears of joy to his eyes when he read those words. To me every day was a father's day giving him a hug or kissing him goodnight, to show him appreciation for the days when I was sick and he would watch over me, for every day he went to work so he could take care of me, for every moment I felt I'm going to fall but he would hold me, for every joy he brought to my life and for just being my father.

If I have to say what has changed in me with this experience, I would say that it is; I appreciate the people I love more than before and am not afraid of saying 'I love you' to them because you don't know when are going to say goodbye. I said goodbye earlier, goodbye my superman my only hero, goodbye my beloved, goodbye my father the best father in the world.

Your love for me shall never end until the end of my life.

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..........

If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

............
Light Of My Life

By: Nimra Basharat Qureshi

In 1996 is the year when I was in the arms of the most handsome man in the entire universe. A kiss of my father on my forehead and then my life shined like a bright star in the night-sky. As time passed, he held my soft fingers in to his hands, and taught me how to walk. But to clear that, this wasn't all he did... He became the bridge in joining the broken path, just to lead me to my destiny. He was the lumber in my life, just to ensure, that my tears never leaked. He was the kick start and the figure of love and perfection sent from heavens into my life on the earth. Like a cold coffee comforts on a cold night, he did the same, but in a better way. In the draught, he was the rain, the best melody in melancholy, a warm hug of success when I was about to fail, a soft carpet to cover the thorns so I could place my feet on the ground.

I would rather call him, my world, where his love and care was the air and water, and that was all I needed to survive in the world, where life would not turn its back on you. He would never miss a chance of teaching me the best and guide me through the times with the experiences he had. The greatest gift God had given me was HIM! A kiss and a hug from him enlightened my whole day. Like the stem supported the flower, he supported me, and to him I was his flower of beauty. I was on the way back home from my hostel after 3 years, and the excitement wasn't less than the days or rather the seconds spent away from my beloved Dad. The bus and my thoughts were back on their way as we crossed the noisy street.

I could not think of any other need in my life, other than my Dad's protection. He has been the hero of my life, the King of my entire empire. He has been the shadow, always been with me through the times where it was hard to smile and to the times where smiling was like a child's thing because of him. He is the perfume of my life, making it better every day, whether I see him or not. The fantastic part of the bond we share is that we have always remained intact through thick and thin. And most of all, he gave me the best gift, HE believed in me. When I look at him, even after 14 years, I see my Heavens in him. It's not the "love" we have always shared, we have had fights and disagreements too, despite them, we have a unique relationship that speaks more with love rather than the words. He has been the blessing in my life and I truly respect him, and thank God for such a special gift, that I am blessed with. He is the reason of smile on face.

The bus halted, and I rushed down, I had reached my destination, not completely yet though. Minutes later, I was in the arms of that handsome young man again, and now I had reached my destiny completely. But at the end of the day, my dad believes and trusts me, whether I succeed or loose, and keeping that in my heart I LOVE HIM. The story didn't end yet, but it's time I leave with my dad, to the pleasant world we share. ................

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My Dad, The Paragon

By: Nittala A L Sruthi

I am Sruthi, 20 years old. Since I am the first child to my parents, I have a very close relation with my dad. In almost all through my life till now, I was mostly influenced by my father. Whenever I look back in my life, I find many instances which mainly depict my father's influence on me. When I thought to put down my memories, I was simply fascinated, how wonderful my dad is.....

My father, Ramalingeswara sarma, born in 1965 in ACHANTA, in west Godavari district of Andhra Pradesh belongs to a bourgeois family. After two female children, he was born to my grandparents. So it is obvious that he was brought up with utmost love and care. My grandparents were not well educated. My grand pa was a retired Hindi teacher in government high school. He was impartial and maintains good relations. My grand ma was gifted with extraordinary talents. She can grasp any new thing within no time. She is very thoughtful and a good singer too.

I feel proud to say that my father's fixed properties are those qualities. He was of course the amalgamation of all those qualities. During his childhood, they were financially not strong. They got electricity connection during his graduation. There was not even an educated person to guide him. But still his zeal to settle in a good position made him complete his education with distinction. But due to the circumstances at that time, he had to opt for graduation in BSc unlike his friends who pursued engineering.

Since in those days unemployment was the main threat to youth, this awareness made him to get succeed in whatever test he attempted and finally settled as an employee in the Life Insurance Corporation of India at the age of 24. He first joined as a clerk. But his hard work and strong determination to flourish in his profession got him promoted as the branch manager within 18 years. His fervent commitment to work, sincerity, and honesty achieved him prestigious name.

I had a very nice time with my father during my childhood. He never forced me and my brother to do anything as per his wish. His freedom helped us to flourish in our fields. He is a man of high morals and values. In fact, my interest in reading books related to great persons like Vivekananda, several inspiring articles and respecting our culture was inculcated by my father. I remember him telling us several moral stories which increased my confidence levels. He never expected anything in return for what he did. He never rubbed his qualities on us, but we grew seeing him and habituated ourselves to those qualities.

Like my father, I too was blessed with all these good qualities which in fact got breath from my grandparents.

I am blessed with good parents. My mother increased my spiritual strength and my father shaped me as a good individual. I thank God for the gift of such parents!!

The way he analyses and deals an issue makes me wonder how tactful he is! He is an effective speaker and a good decision maker. Just like a weed in a field, there is a harmful weed called anger which has also a place in my father.

I am pursuing B-Tech final year successfully with my dad's support. My aim is to be part of any organization for the needy and to donate some amount from my savings every month. This was of course the reflection of my father who never let anyone know of his service. In this aspect, I was inspired a lot by my teacher Sr. Ceenap during my high school study.

For me, the name of my father is another name for Love. His love towards me is unconditioned.

Simply, I can say my dad is a PARAGON!!!

LOVE YOU NAANNA !!!

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Why My Dad is Special to Me

By: Nouf Al Mansour

If you could choose anyone to be your father who would it be? Would it be the president? Or would it be a famous singer? I would choose my father because he is hilarious, honest, and fun. My father is special to me because he taught me how to do things, he teaches me the difference between what's right and wrong, and he takes me travelling.

My father is special to me because he taught me how to swim.

I remember when I was six years old I hated swimming. I didn't like swimming because I didn't know how to swim. So when I became eight years old I wanted to swim but I was scared of drowning. My father told me, "I will help you how, it's very easy but it just needs practicing to get better at it."

The next day I got ready to practice swimming. At first it was very scary but my father told me" Just move your hands and legs like a bird at the same time." At first it was so hard; I even thought I was drowning but my dad told me, "Never give up, the more you practice the better." I began to swim in the deep end.

I was so excited I even called my cousin. I told her I know how to swim in the deep end. My cousin was bigger than me by one year but she didn't know how to swim though she too always wanted to swim. So I told her I'll teach you how to swim, just come over.

The next two days my cousin was excited to swim. I told her the same thing that my father told me. I told her just move your hands and legs at the same time like a bird. And she kept on going under the water. I told her never give up no matter what. She listened exactly what I said and she didn't give up even if she was going under water. Finally she started to swim like me. She thanked me; I told her, no, thank my father. I was proud of myself helping someone to swim and my father was also proud of me that I never gave up.

It meant a lot to me because I always wanted to swim at the deep end of the pool. It was a big experience for me.

My father is special to me because he taught me how to draw

When I was eight years old I loved drawing. My dad used to help me draw. My father's drawings were all nice. He could draw people and paint big and small pictures. When I started to grow older I liked painting more. I liked 3D painting and pop painting. I was 13 years old and my father painted like... oil colour, water colour, and 3D painting. He also taught me how to paint with a knife. It was easy painting with a knife. I didn't really like oil colour because it was oily. And after every colour you had to wipe it with a tissue.

3D painting was nice because you didn't need to use a brush; you had to use a knife. Pop painting was the same as 3D painting. Water colour was the easiest. I think water colour is just for kids.

My father showed me all kinds of brushes. It was interesting learning how to paint and how to use all types of paint.

I was better at drawing than painting. I liked to draw animals.

Since I was 11, I started to always draw and paint. My father changed my life and I was able to express myself more through painting.

My father is also special to me because he teaches me the difference of what's right and wrong.

On November 5 was our Eid break. On November 10, I wanted to go to UAE - only my cousin and myself. I was so sick but I didn't really care. I just wanted to go. My father told me NO! I kept on begging on him. At last he said yes but he told me, "I'm just warning you. You will get sicker than you are now."I didn't really care.

The next day I got my stuff ready to leave to the airport. My father dropped me and my cousin at the airport. We were excited. Suddenly I felt my temperature going high. And my body started to feel weak and I wanted to sleep. I kept on coughing and I was sweating.

I remembered what my father told me. I told my father, "That's it, I'm not going, and I don't feel well." My cousin went alone and my father took me back home. I thanked him for what he told me. By that my father taught me a lesson; that if I'm sick I should never travel, even if I want to.

When it was July, it was our summer vacation. Our parents decided where to travel for our summer vacation so they asked us. All of us said Disneyland in Florida and we wanted to go with my cousins and also we brought friends with us.

One week passed. We were all ready to go to the airport, we were all excited. But we had to wait a long time for the airplane. We all got sleepy. One hour passed. We quickly ran to the airplane. We had to wait eight hours and move to another airplane for three hours. It wasn't that boring because there were lots of games on the TV and my cousins and friends were all in the airplane.

Six hours passed and now we had to move to the other airplane for three hours. On the three hours trip we reached London. My father took us to buy an ice cream because he felt bad that we had to wait for nine hours in the airplane.

We finally reached Florida. We were all tired and we wanted to sleep. My father took us to the apartment to sleep, so the next day we could go play.

The next day we were all awake and excited to go to the theme park. My father took us to Orlando, Universal Studios, and to all the games. It was so fun, the best part was the Universal Studios. We went to the Tower Hotel, the Hulk and the scariest was The Curse of the Mummy. My father and I went to the best game; it was called Rock and Roll. One month passed and we had to go back to Qatar because school started.

I really appreciate my father for taking me travelling. It was so fun. I thank him for all the games he took me to and seeing the Disney castle was the best part.

So you can see there are many reasons why my father is so special to me. He teaches me how to do things, he teaches me the difference between right and wrong, and he takes me travelling.

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Appa

By: Pannashri

Appa-The very mention of this word brings forward a surge of emotions in me. How do I describe my bond with my dad? To say that it was different would be an understatement.

My father was different from most other dads that you would find around you. He was not very expressive or demonstrative when it concerned me. Growing up as the only child of my parents in a typical middle class family in Bangalore, there were many things to be learnt during childhood. We were a joint family of seven people, including my grandma, me, my parents, my uncle and aunt and my cousin brother. I was always closest to my ma and grandma, even from the beginning. My relationship with my dad could be described as best as cordial and to some extent as formal. You know how popular culture and media always showcases the father as a loving, caring, affectionate sort of a guy right? Well, my dad was all that and much more, only in his case he was not the most expressive or demonstrative person. He seldom believed in public displays of affection, preferring instead to show his love in terms of deeds. When you live in a joint family, there are certain unwritten rules that you have to follow. Being accommodative is one such thing; whenever Appa brought something home to eat for example, he would always make sure that everybody got to eat first, only then would he proceed to do so himself.

In my younger days, when I was still attending school, my memories of spending time with dad are sketchy and random at best. The responsibilities of a big family and the daily grind would take a toll on him every day. At the end of the day, I would see him being too tired from work to do anything else. So, it was left to mom to do the balancing act of taking care of things at home and at work, not to mention two very naughty and energetic children at home!! As a result of all this, I think somewhere along the way, I ended up becoming more close to my mom than my dad. He was more of a behind the scenes kind of a person, content to be paying the bills and making sure those things went along smoothly.

When I started going to high school however things changed quite drastically. It's amazing to know the kind of things that happen with the onset of the great teenage years. I think a lot of people tend to misunderstand teenagers because they still think of them as children. While that may be partly true, teens are also young people who are very aware of what surrounds them on a daily basis.

They understand family dynamics, the state of affairs at home and the people and places that they are surrounded by quite well. They are young adults, capable of thoughts and decision-making. When I was around twelve or thirteen, I started to understand certain things very clearly and plainly. My father, who always seemed strong and unshakable, was just as vulnerable as anyone else. The onset of a slew of medical problems did not help matters. I learnt much later that things were not exactly going very well in the finance company where he was working as assistant manager of accounts. We were building our own house at that time and the stress on my dad must have been enormous. Even then he would always make sure that he performed his duty splendidly. My internal battles with hormones and homework were pittance when compared to what my father must have been going through. Never the kind to let others know that he was in need of help, my father carried on. One day his blood sugar levels became dangerously low and we had to admit him to the hospital. I remember very vividly the utter feelings of helplessness and fear. Not knowing what to do or where to go, I was a mute spectator for what was about to follow. Even though he came back home safely, he was never the same again. Maybe the close brush he had with his own mortality had changed him, or maybe the idea of having to take care of the medical bills had left him shaken.

What followed after those were regular visits to the doctors and lab tests with alarming regularity. I quickly realized that life would never be the same again. My quiet, dignified Appa was replaced by a man who was living under the constant stress of ill health, the prospect of having to lose his job due to it and the resulting financial difficulties because of the unpaid loans of our new house.

A few months later, my father was diagnosed with end stage chronic renal failure. This disorder was a result of his diabetes and blood pressure as also uncontrolled stress. He was told that the only way to go forward was to get a procedure called dialysis done twice a week. Ask any person who knows anything about this disorder and they will tell you one thing-there is no cure for this. The patient has to keep undergoing dialysis and then eventually go in for kidney transplant. The treatment is costly and most of the times futile. It doesn't necessarily improve the quality of the patient's life; it just gives them a little more time and more misery. The financial implications are no less ominous. That year alone, my father was admitted to hospital at least three times. The third time when he was there, the doctors told him that they needed to start the treatment or my father would have a very tough time.

At this juncture, I can only speculate about what my Appa was thinking. There were a lot of things to take into account, I was still fourteen, and my mother was working hard at her job, unpaid home loans. On top of all this, my dad's medical bills were draining our financial resources. I do not know how Appa decided about what he was about to do next. On the day that he was to inform the doctors about his decision, he made up his mind not to receive treatment at all. He got himself discharged against the doctor's advice and headed home which was a short distance from home. My grandma was there with him that day when he came home. My mother had gone to the office because they would not grant her any more leave. Just then I had come home from school around 1pm as it was a Saturday. My dad climbed up the stairs of our home and feeling tired, he proceeded to sit in the portico of our home. My grandma who was with him also sat down. Before I could take them inside, my father had a cardiac arrest and passed away within minutes. All the effort had been for nothing.

On that fateful day, my Appa had taken probably the most difficult decision of his life. His love for us was such that, he did not wish to be a burden on us anymore. He could not bear to see us go throw more pain, so he decided to finish it off once and for all. At the time of his death he was only forty nine years old. He still had a long life ahead of him. But destiny decided that it was enough.

It's been more than ten years since that day, but it is a date that cannot be wiped away from my memory. He now lives in our hearts and minds as the noble soul who put everybody else before himself. His love and affection may not have been declared in greeting cards or lavish parties. But he chose instead to do it with his actions. They say that we must be very lucky to get good people in our life, what they forget to tell you are that many times even though the time that we get with our loved ones is very brief, the fragrance of their presence lingers on long after they left us.

Even now, I find that there are new reasons to love my father every single day. Whenever I really need him, I can feel his presence close by. It comforts me and gives me strength to face the many challenges that life throws in my way.

Love you Appa.

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My Best Man

By: Priya Varughese

He is always going to be my best man.

From the moment he held his baby girl in his arms for the first time, she's all that mattered to him. Her first walk, her first word, her bad dreams, her falls, her broken heart, He has been there. Whenever she cries, all he sees is how beautiful she is and how hard it is for him to watch tears roll down her cheeks. That's him! My Father. I call him "Pops" when I'm on my way to gain some favour and an extended "Papa" when I'm trying to irritate him with something. I want the whole world to believe and agree that I've now become grown up enough to make my own decisions on a lot of things but deep within, I would always want to be that same clueless little girl I was once, to no one else but my father.

My mom says that my dad and I belong to the same category of "Crazy people" and I wonder how hard it must be for her to manage two kids in the house. But seriously, daughters tend to get more close to their fathers and sons to their mothers, so I don't think she can blame me. Usually, when my mom asks me to do anything, I would come with the most brilliant excuses any human would ever think of in the one minute time their provided to not do it but when it's my dad, I smile and go on to doing whatever he's asked me to do.

And when I'm with him, and I watch how happy he is when I'm cracking lame jokes and sometimes trying to explain to him how mature I am (and to think that he is the one I run and cry to when I can't handle the tiniest bit of hurt), I think about how pathetic those other girls are to leave their dads for a guy who claims to love them more than his life. Of course I can be wrong about my opinion on this but this is something that a lot of us do not stop to think of. When he allows you to hang out with your friends, when he understands your friendship with boys is just friendship and nothing more, and when he trusts you enough to let you have a cell phone and of course, your own room and laptop, do you think he would ever imagine you walking out on him?

No one is experienced enough when they are in their teens. And you know what's even harder? Every teenager has this philosophy, "I am way more mature person than anyone in this house and its time I get my own apartment" downloaded within their nearly empty heads. So it's definitely hard to understand the value of the wonderful relationship you have with your dad. If he gets you everything you want, then he has the rights to yell at you when you get low grades, to give you the stern looks when your teacher gives a bad remark at the Parent-Teacher meeting, and definitely enquire everything from who you are going to be with to what time you will be reaching back home when he's letting you party with your friends. And if nothing in this world will convince you that your dad is always going to be your best man, whenever you feel like going against his will, take out a picture of your dad and you when you were too innocent to even think, and then hold in all the courage to still commit the mistake. And if you're still able to do it, your dad just didn't love you enough or you just never gave him a chance.

As for my dad, he's been there. As my best friend, my role model, my hero and most importantly, MY FATHER! And as long as he's in my life, I've got nothing to fear. And for those who lost their dads before they could get to know him better, I'm sure he's watching you and that he's always going to be proud of you. He might keep pampering you, he might want you to join the college nearest to town, but it's all because he knows that you are God's gift to him for all the good he's ever done.

Here's my cheers to you, dad. You are always going to be my best man!

There's this beautiful song that I would like to share with my fellow readers titled "You can let go now daddy" by Crystal Shawanda and I would recommend all of you to watch the video as well. The lyrics go like this:

Wind blowin' on my face  
Sidewalk flyin' beneath my bike  
A five year-old's first taste  
Of what freedom's really like  
He was runnin' right beside me  
His hand holdin' on the seat  
I took a deep breath and hollered  
As I headed for the street

You can let go now, Daddy  
You can let go  
Oh, I think I'm ready  
To do this on my own  
It's still a little bit scary  
But I want you to know  
I'll be ok now, Daddy  
You can let go

I was standin' at the altar  
Between the two loves of my life  
To one I've been a daughter  
To one I soon would be a wife  
When the preacher asked,  
'Who gives this woman?'  
Daddy's eyes filled up with tears  
He kept holding' tightly to my arm  
'Till I whispered in his ear

You can let go now, Daddy  
You can let go  
Oh, I think I'm ready  
To do this on my own  
It still feels a little bit scary  
But I want you to know  
I'll be ok now, Daddy  
You can let go

It was killing' me to see  
The strongest man I ever knew  
Wasting' away to nothing'  
In that hospital room  
'You know he's only hanging' on for you'  
That's what the night nurse said  
My voice and heart were breaking'  
As I crawled up in his bed, and said

You can let go now, Daddy  
You can let go  
Your little girl is ready  
To do this on my own  
It's going to be a little bit scary  
But I want you to know  
I'll be ok now, Daddy  
You can let go.

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My Inspiration and Confidence – My Father

By: Radhika Nambiar

My Father and my Mother both love me a lot and I too love them. But the inspiration and confidence of my life is my father. My father is a thin man with little hair on his head. His eyes are small and he has a long nose. He is the one who taught me many things. Whatever he told me, it inspired me and helped me a lot. He taught me that you must be patient, kind-hearted and help anyone in need even if he/she is your enemy or friend. What I feel special about him is his character and behaviour towards others. My father is a very patient man. He has a unique character of forgiving everyone, no matter how rudely they would have behaved to him. He is a very soft hearted man. He never likes hurting anyone or talking rudely. He is very polite to his parents. He loves his mother more than anyone else in this world.

This single example made me realize how soft hearted my father is. Once my mother and father went to a shop named 'Family Food Centre' to buy egg puffs. I was at home. My mother and I wanted to buy it very badly. Unfortunately, there were no egg puffs. For a joke, my mother told him that whenever we wished for something we never get it. She didn't mean it at all. On reaching the car my mother saw that my father's eyes were filled with tears. He told her that he could not buy egg puffs for us and so he was sad. This shows how soft hearted he is.

My father is also a funny man. He gives funny answers to anything that we say. He does not actually mean to joke but we feel like laughing. My mother wanted a banana from the supermarket. She kept on telling my father that she wanted only one and only one banana and not more than that. My father got irritated with it and said 'I'll see if I will get half a banana.' This made us laugh.

The inspiration that my father gave me has actually helped me to do better at every stage of my school life. From the day I got less marks in maths in the third standard, my father has taught me maths and cleared my doubts. Since then I have scored full marks most of the time. If I lose some marks in any subject due to silly mistakes, my mother may shout at me but my father always supports me and says ''Don't worry child. Every failure is a stepping stone to success. Learn from your mistakes and you can do better.'' This has always inspired me and it had helped me to do much better than before.

My father believes in God a lot. Before going for exams, especially for maths exams he would say ''do all that you know. Work on the difficult ones and if you don't get it, never cry. God will always be there with you. 'Though this reduces my anxiety at that time, on reaching the hall I would get scared.

He helps me in my project and does it very well with good perfection.

I always had the habit of postponing my work till the last minute. Once when I was in eighth standard, I had to prepare a file on the topic 'Some natural phenomena'. I took it very lightly and kept postponing my work. I did not even look for pictures in the internet. On the day before the submission of the file, I got up early in the morning and began searching for pictures. It was not an easy task. After collecting all the pictures that were necessary, I found that there was no ink in my printer. So I asked my father to get the print out from somewhere outside. Then I started doing my file from evening. I was sitting till late night cutting the pictures, decorating the pages and writing information. It was not as good as that I had expected but I had no time to see to all these things. I kept hurrying up. Till twelve midnight, my father had been sitting with me and reading out the information. After twelve I began getting angry because there were still many topics to complete. So my father, who did not like grumbling and lamenting, told me in an angry tone 'If you continue to postpone your work like this, I will not help you'. He went to sleep. I felt very angry. I completed my work as soon as possible. I still had the anger in my heart.

The next day my father came to me and asked me if I was still angry. He told me 'I just advised you that you should not postpone your work. Had you searched the information and pictures before itself, you could have done your file in a better and organized way.' I felt that he was right and apologized for my mistake. After that I thought deeply into what my father said and felt it was right. I recollected what he used to tell me that when he was small he used to cover his own notebooks and made wonderful craft items. I was amazed about how he got enough time to do all this. I observed his work that he did every day. Anything that he did, he did it with a lot of dedication towards it though it was not so important. He completed his office work on time. I too decided to organize my time in such a way that it included activities such as playing, studying, watching television etc. This single experience taught me many things. Firstly, be perfect and punctual in your work, second is to stop getting angry for silly things and third is to organize my time.

My father is the most important person to me in my life. My father and his behaviour have changed me and my habits. It was my father who encouraged me to take part in activities such as essay writing, sports, dance etc. He gave me the inspiration that nothing is impossible in life and if you believe in God, God will always be with you. He has never shouted at me or beat me. He only advices. He gave me the confidence to do things on my own.

And so he is a very special person to me. I love him more than anyone else in the world. Whenever I say that I have done hard work I feel that it is nothing in front of the hard work that my father has done. This reminds me of a famous and wonderful quotation by Bart Rand Hubbard:

''I've had a hard life, but my hardships are nothing against the hardships that my father went through to get me to where I started''.

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My Father – My Ideal

By: Raheja R.G

It makes me proud to be the son of remarkable people such as my father and mother, to whom I am dedicating this story. My father was the son of a very rich businessman in Shikarpur, Sindh (now part of Pakistan) and my mother also hailed from a very rich family. Both lived their lives as completely honest and virtuous persons. My mother and father respected each other and my mother never questioned my father's decisions. She was a very good wife and mother. Married in the early 20th century, they had four sons and a daughter. I am their second son.

My father's family suffered great financial losses due to the deceitful behaviour of a business partner. Their business was lost and they had no means to maintain their home. My father sought funds from well-to-do relatives to begin his own business, but no one was willing to help. With no other option, my father started working as an accountant in a finance firm in Coimbatore (a city in the southern part of India). However, the salary he earned was not sufficient to maintain a household. Not having a formal education, opportunities were limited and he eventually decided to return to his family in Shikarpur.

My father struggled to find work and the money he earned at odd jobs was not enough to run a home. When times were very bad, my mother would ask her family for help. It was heartbreaking for my grandmother to know her daughter's family struggled and she would help. Sadly, one day my mother overheard someone say 'She has come for money again'. This caused my mother to cry a lot and she made a vow to herself to never ask for their help again. Despite the most trying circumstances, even when there was no income, my mother supported father's every decision. She was my father's unshakeable pillar of strength and support. We children were too young to understand all that was happening, but I feel proud when I remember their loyalty and dedication to each other. We rarely see such faithfulness and commitment in today's relationships.

In 1942, our family left Shikarpur and settled in Bombay (now Mumbai). Soon after our arrival, my father found a job as an accountant in a small firm. He rented a one-room house at Chira Bazaar for Rs.20 [less than one U.S. dollar per month]; barely enough to keep the household running. Father was up early each morning and used to go for prayers and worship at the Babulnath temple. He walked the distance of approximately 2 miles to the temple every day. Although he was struggling to provide for his family, he always carried small packets of food to share with needy people he met along the way. In 1947, India attained independence and Sindh became a part of Pakistan. Many people from my community fled from Pakistan to India. My father used to take two boxes of food along with his friends to feed the refugees arriving at the train station till they were allotted a room in an army cantonment anywhere in India.

Almost everyone who migrated from Sindh during the partition came to India had hardly any money. Most of them found 'hawala' business as a path to being rich. 'Hawala' is a dishonest way to obtain and declare unearned income. My father's older brother worked as a manager with a private finance firm that did business through brokers. Knowing my father's difficulties, my uncle suggested he would help by sending brokers to my father and he could start practicing the 'hawala' business so that he could become rich. Horrified at this suggestion, however, my father told his brother 'I would rather die of hunger than do a wrong thing like hawala'. We were all present to hear our father speak these words. This was in 1950 and many a time, we went to bed hungry. One day my father asked my mother for her wedding jewellery, explaining he would use the money to start a business. Wedding jewellery is the Indian bride's only earthly possession that she brings to her marriage. And yet, without hesitation, my mother quietly took off her jewellery and presented it to father. Do you find such sacrificial behaviour in people today? My father started an honest finance business with the money from the sale of the jewellery. My uncle, who was by then, a manager with a large company, helped father by recommending him many honest business contacts.

My father had to struggle a lot but his business slowly grew. On receiving my father's first tax return showing the income from the sale of my mother's jewellery, the reviewing tax officer challenged my father's income-tax return by declaring that the income was 'black money' [money received by dishonest means such as 'hawala']. However, my father's legal consultant gave testimony to father's honesty and assured the officer that the income is correctly reported. My father's tax return was then approved.

Faith in God was the mainstay of my father's life. Despite many hardships in his life, father never lost faith in God or used dishonest means in his work. He began each day in worship and prayer, and while he worked to provide a home for his family, he never failed to share with those less fortunate. As I remember what my father said to my uncle, I am eternally grateful for my parents' steadfastness to God and for their living example to never use hurtful, dishonest means to gain success.

My parents never lost their faith in God or in each other. My mother also has our special respect. Even though she came from a very rich family, she never complained about the lack of money in my father's house. She supported my father in all his difficult moments. Their faithfulness has blessed many and they have my heartfelt respect. I thank God for my righteous parents.

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Friend, Philosopher And Guide

By: Rajeev Balakrishnan

To write about a colossus is not an easy task and more so, when this awe inspiring phenomenon happens to be your father. 'Doctor' as he was popularly known in both the Ayurvedic field that he represented, or as the writer/producer/director of many a Malayalam film, my father left his mark on both the professions that he chose to excel in. Blessed by a sharp wit and intellect, he inspired many to look at Malayalam films in a more ingenious manner. Today he is known as the individual who perhaps ushered in the comedy genre into the otherwise maudlin storytelling of Malayalam films.

However all of this would be getting ahead of the story, as he would say. Brought up by a disciplinarian father, he would often give vent to his creativity by indulging in writing short stories that were hidden and kept from Mr T.P. Madhavan Nair's prying eyes. His first attempt at writing and getting his story 'Neela Sanji'(the blue bag) published in a local magazine was received by a bout of astonishment and no encouragement whatsoever from my grandfather. While he was excellent in his studies he was best known for his ability to conjure up plays in high school and get his loyal band of friends to perform the roles with finesse on stage. As he grew taller, so did his achievements on the college stage where he wrote and played the lead roles with aplomb. His rise in stature as a player on the performing arts field was unparalleled.

Having moved to Chennai (Madras) in the mid 50's he straddled the twin objectives of studying medicine and playwriting with equal fervour. In the early 60's he came into contact with some luminaries from the Malayalam film industry and was soon inspired to try his hand at producing his first film. He had, by then, enacted the lead roles in several plays at the prestigious Malayalee club and Kerala Samaj, and was ready to make the transition onto the film industry. His first attempt at production resulted in a near disaster and 'Thalirugal' as his entry vehicle bit the dust. Introspecting, he realized that perhaps, serious films were not his cup of tea and made another attempt with 'Kaliya alla Kalyanam' with Satyan and Sharada and 'Ladies Hostel' in the early seventies with Prem Nazir and Jayabharati. Both films were to become huge hits and he was soon on his way. 'College Girl' with the same pair, directed by Hariharan went onto break all records at the box office and soon Dr. Balakrishnan was a household name in Kerala.

The Sankunnis Ayurvedic clinic at 40 Egmore highroad was a landmark of sorts for those who were both sick and needed treatment as well as for those wannabes who wanted to make a mark in the Malayalam film industry. Nothing succeeds like success, they say and very soon, film magazines targeted my father and interviews were carried between the Director Hariharan and my father the producer, where each claimed success as their own. Ego issues raised its ugly head and very soon the successful team decided to part ways, each vying to prove that they could register success at the box office without the help of the other. The aftermath resulted in my father promoting new technicians and new actors into mainstream cinema, so much so that he was seen as a godfather who could help construct careers for the talented in the tinsel world.

There were many ups and downs during his career but what stood out to those at home was his spirit for challenges and his ability to keep weaving magic both at home and on his twin professional field. His typical day would start at 9.30 when he would go to the clinic to diagnose and treat patients till around noon. Thereafter, he would pay a quick visit to the studios to ensure that all was well with his latest film and then, back home for a quick lunch and siesta. Evening 6 to 8 p.m. back at the clinic, after which he would be at the studios until the shooting wound up for the day. The stress and strain did play havoc with his health and he was diagnosed with heart trouble and high blood pressure; but, this would never be shown at home when he spent quality time with us.

Every summer holiday was special, since he would take us on our annual holiday to Ooty, Kodaikanal or another exotic destination in Kerala. Never mind that he was steeped in debt, he would never deny us our annual vacation. So much so that, even after his 'Royal Five' ( as he fondly referred to us ) were married and settled, the annual holiday would still be planned and the cost of which would be borne by him cheerfully. Each of his grandchildren was dear to him and he went out of his way to ensure that a generous sum was earmarked for their future. 'Onam' and 'Vishu' meant that it was celebration time for not only the family, but for the servants and their families too. While he was Spartan when it came to his needs, he took great delight in gifting generously and seeing all of us happy. 8.00 pm was curfew time for all of us as he would be back from the clinic and loved to hear from all of us and of our exploits of the day. He fostered mutual trust amongst all of us and even when I had the audacity to come home tipsy from a school party, he encouraged me to speak the truth and had the wisdom to admonish me gently the next day without having to break a stick on my back. I greatly respected him for his friendly way of teaching us to be straightforward and honest without having to worry about the consequences.

For someone who always wore his heart on his sleeve, he received a few setbacks in the film world, when some of his trusted aides whom he had promoted with faith conspired to cheat him. Yet, he took it all in his stride. He would often tell us the unkindest cut of fate was when friends whom he had trusted beyond measure had succumbed to the lure of money and turned against their mentor. He gave up producing films, forced partly by mounting debts and partly by the experiences of a cutthroat industry. His first innings in the film industry were both remarkable and heartbreaking for it catapulted him into success, the very success that earned him detractors and jealousy. At this stage in his life he jettisoned his ego, turned towards spirituality and discovered that he was an instrument in the hands of Goddess Devi Mookambika. Surrendering himself to the almighty's grace, he went back to his roots and practiced as a doctor, solving difficult cases that were written about by many in the medical field, all of which he attributed to her benevolence. He valued self-respect above all and managed to pay off every debtor to whom he owed money, down to the last cent. This greatly moved and influenced me.

Just as he was basking in the success as an Ayurvedic practitioner, there came the enticement to play a second innings in the film industry. He went onto script some of the most rib-tickling comedies of all times and perhaps it was but a quirk of fate that his comeback vehicle was to be directed by the same director who had partnered with him for his initial hits – Hariharan. His protégées had also become full-fledged directors and Sathyan Anthikad who today, rules the roost in the Malayalam film industry insisted that his films script should be penned by my father who had invited him with open arms into 40 Egmore High Road as a budding assistant script writer. Kurukande Kalyanam, followed by 'Kinnaram' and 'Mandanmar Londonil' established Sathyan Anthikad as the director for the future. At his last public function held at Malayalee club, my father was moved to tears by tributes from many of his successful protégées. Sreenivasan a leading script writer confessed to having been inspired by his genre of comedy and life had indeed come to a full circle for him.

His generosity and large heartedness extended beyond the immediate family and we have all been beneficiaries of his munificence. My first car was a gift from him. Knowing that I did not have the means to buy one, he had taken the trouble of short listing available cars and buying the best one possible within the allocated budget. To get me to do well in college he would either inspire me with words or deeds such as promising me my first motorbike if I were to get a first class in my 12th standard board exams, and it was promise that he redeemed. He also imparted a great lesson to me when I decided to do English Literature at Loyola College much against his advice. He told me that I was old enough to take my own decisions but I would be responsible for its consequences. This made me put my heart and soul into whatever I did thereafter and success came my way albeit a little late in the day. Even after I had moved into my own flat, every Saturday evening he would look forward to my visit. A quiet drink and a few witty exchanges are memories that I will always treasure. He was extremely pleased when I took to stage and moonlighting on short stories and would give me a critical analysis of my endeavours.

'To live in the hearts we leave behind is not to die" are lines written by a popular author and they best exemplify the person that my father was. The last few years of his life were spent battling health problems but he would always have a smile and joke about it. When we would request him to be a little more careful about his health he would turn around and say "I have already lived my life, these are just bonus years bestowed on me by the creator. I have no regrets and I am prepared to leave this day, if he would accept me into his grace". When he passed away on 2nd March, 2002 he left behind a vacuum for affection in my life that left me at a loss for words. I had no one to turn to for sagacious advice or a word of comfort. He lived as he had died, on his terms and in king-size. Even today after almost 8 years, he continues to inspire me as someone who lived out his dreams, on his terms and more importantly as a good human being. I thank him every day for letting me to be his son and the fact that he left behind some invaluable lessons for me to emulate. The most important one being, 'Live life with happiness and contentment'. To be able to smile in the face of adversity and to lend a helping hand to the needy is something I have seen only my father do and I can only hope to do.

I truly believe that God created him as his chosen child and then broke the mould for he was truly one of a kind

My Father - A Remembrance

By: Rajka Milanovic Galbraith, M.D.

I remember vividly our last interaction. There was a feeling of peace. It is difficult to describe. "It doesn't look bad", he said as he helped me buff out the yellow paint out of my red car. My father was referring to the scratch I had put onto my car exiting a circular parking garage when I was tired. And it didn't look bad after we were done buffing. My father and I lingered a bit. We had all just enjoyed a nice weekend celebrating his 57th birthday. There was the usual family dinner and lots of laughs. But on that Sunday, I felt he was at peace. He had achieved what he had set out to do: give his children the opportunity he never had as a child and adult. All of his children had graduated from college and I had gone onto complete medical school. He was proud of us all. My father, Svetislav Milanovic was born in a town called Vinoraca in Serbia in 1940 during WWII. In America, he had come to be known as "Steve".

My father had come to Cleveland, Ohio from Serbia to marry my mother (in an arranged marriage) after his options ran out in Serbia. Serbia was under communist rule when my father was in his 20's. He was told repeatedly: "Go work the land" as his father had land. He heard these words when he tried to go to college, when he tried to get a job and even after he worked as an apprentice in a skilled trade for 1 year and tried to get a job. But farming was not his calling. So the opportunity arose to marry my mother and he took it leaving his family behind. He came to the United States with the clothes on his back and one piece of luggage. And he literally walked nearly barefoot in the snow to and from school as a child. Many parents say this but for my father, this was a reality.

When I left to return to Columbus where I was living that Sunday, I didn't know: he would never be the same again. On early Tuesday morning, I awoke at 1 am, 2 am and 3 am. Each time, I ran to the bathroom and dry wretched. Both of my siblings would later recall having similar symptoms. It was shortly after the 3 am awakening that I received the call: my mother had found my father unresponsive with vomit on him. He was in the Emergency room. "Oh my goodness, he stroked!" I said to my sister. "How do you know? They haven't even given us the results of the cat scan yet!" she said. I knew. It was part of my training to know. My father was soon after life flown to a major hospital in the city as he had had a bleed into his brain. Bleeding within the brain can cause increased pressure which leads to a patient vomiting. The bleed rendered him paralyzed on one side of his body and with difficulty speaking. After the first 24 hours, my father seemed to be the same man he was when I had seen him last. But as the swelling worsened in his brain, the man I knew was lost to us forever.

I would drive 2 hours from Columbus to Cleveland twice during the week to visit my father returning to Columbus the next morning by 7 am to round on patients. The times were amongst the toughest in my life: physically, emotionally and spiritually. My father would take two steps forward and then one step back. His speech didn't seem to be coming around, and he was still paralyzed. More than a month had gone by; I just did not know what to believe. Would he ever recover? I posed this question to a physician mentor at the end of a work day. He said: "Maybe it is just time that you accepted that this is the way he will be forever." I drove home crying the whole way. Not just crying but sobbing very loudly. It is a wonder that I didn't hit the circular wall on the way out of the parking garage again. Thankfully home was less than a mile away.

Fortunately for my father, in the next days, he took his first steps. I was there to witness them and will never forget them. It was as if I were the parent watching my child take his first steps. I was through the moon with joy. The steps were really not much. The therapist had a belt around my father's waist and he was almost shuffling if not waddling for a short while.

These first steps changed everything. They brought him closer to being discharged from the hospital to an acute rehabilitation facility rather than a sub acute facility. In an acute facility, he would receive much more intense therapy than in a sub acute facility. His ability to be able to tolerate hours of rehab was the deciding factor. My sister and I pushed for the acute facility and won. Then, it was just a matter of finding a facility. The tours of the acute facilities made us both cry. Our father was nothing like the patients in these facilities: he was not old. Again, we were the parents making the decision for our "child".

At about the same time as my father was to be admitted to rehab, I had a serious decision to make. I was finishing my residency and the mountains and outdoors was calling me for my first job. I had only interviewed in the Seattle area and had selected a practice just outside of Seattle. I called a family meeting to present the letters I had typed: one accepting the position and one rejecting the position. It was unanimous what my siblings and mother thought I should do: go to Seattle. Our father would not have wanted me to change my life for him. Despite their support, it was the toughest decision I would ever have to make and one I will question forever.

I went on to graduate residency, and to take some time off to be in Cleveland before moving to Seattle. I made several trips back to Cleveland the first year I was away. My father despite being able to walk and talk did not initiate a conversation after the bleeding into his brain. He only spoke when spoken to and out of necessity. And when he was tired, he acted like he had Alzheimer's. During one particular trip to Cleveland, I said: "Dad, I have to return to Seattle. He said: "Seattle, you don't live in Seattle!" I said: "Where do I live?" He said; "You live in New York!" I said: "Really, what do I do in New York? You are a teacher, a teacher in New York." I was so very sad. One of the things he had work all his life for and was proud of, he did not even remember.

One day in August 1998, my future husband, Kerry and I were driving to go to an outdoor concert at Chateau St. Michele Winery. We had the windows open with a breeze flowing through the car. As we were driving, I smelled the "smell" of my father. It was a combination of Stetson, a cheap men's cologne and a manly smell, not quite sweat or body odour, just manly. I looked over at Kerry and couldn't register it all. Kerry didn't smell like this. I soon dismissed it. Around the same time, my brother-in- law had "smelled" my dad while alone on scaffolding 2 stories up.

I received a phone call that night. My mother had found my father unconscious and he was in the hospital. I spoke to the ER physician and found out that he was on a lot of medical support including levafed a medication better known to those of us in the medical community as "Leave 'em Dead". I knew he was nearly gone but, I refused to believe. I was lucky enough to be able to catch the red-eye flight to Cleveland that night. It probably was my sister who picked me up from the airport but now, I cannot even recall. I do know that we went straight to the hospital. On arrival, my father's pupils were fixed and dilated. His abdomen was distended from his organs being deprived of oxygen too long. But, he had a heartbeat. After I was in the room for a short while, his heartbeat started to slow from the 70's to the 60's to the 50's to making the alarms sound. He had waited for my arrival to go but this was just the kind of man he was: gracious. The ICU physician asked me what to do, incredulous! He had had all night to talk to my mother about resuscitation status and he was asking me now as my father was arresting! I said: "Do a "soft code" and get out." A soft code was what you did when you knew the patient was gone but you did not have the authority to not resuscitate. I walked out of the room to see my brother and cousin who were down the hall with hope in their faces until they saw mine. Their walk turned into a run as I shook my head. I hated knowing, knowing that he had been gone from the start.

I was in denial for a long time afterward. Living so far away allowed me not to have to cope. I constantly remembered the man he was. I remembered how he would read Dear Abby and Dear Ann Landers, popular advice columns printed in the Cleveland newspapers. They would have been proud of my father. He came to this country raised to believe that the man ruled the family with an iron fist which he did. To become the man he was destined to be: one who was kind caring and in an equal relationship with his spouse. I recalled fondly how he and I were so very similar particularly in regard to being extraverts. When we were older, both my father and brother could drive to Christmas Eve mass so my father and I could stay to socialize after mass. We would be amongst the last people at the church, long after my siblings and mother had gone home. I recalled all the rules he had instilled in me: "Don't burn your bridges he would say." How he called everyone "Chief" when I was younger, even the gas station attendant. I would say: "How do you know he is a "Chief"? He said: "Everyone is a chief", meaning treat everyone with respect. I would hear all the time that he was THE nicest man and so handsome. With his jet black hair, he resembled the actor Bob Crane who played Colonel Hogan on "Hogan's Heroes", a sitcom from the 60's.

Family friends would comment on how he had always taken time to write out the most thoughtful cards. My sister later told me about a letter she had received from his place of employment, a thank you letter from a customer. My father fixed adding machines and typewriters and did service calls all over Cleveland. The customer had written that despite having a car accident during a blizzard, my father still made it to their business to service their machines. He carried on as if nothing had happened. But this was another example of the kind of man he was. Another fond memory I have is looking for my father one Christmas Eve when I was about 10 years old. He was downstairs in the basement in his workshop repairing a typewriter. This was not unusual as he often did "side jobs" at night. I remember having a nice conversation with him. He was nearly finished and said: "Why don't you go to bed?" As I lay falling asleep, I wondered could that typewriter be for me. I could only wish. I was so excited that sometime in the middle of the night, I awoke and couldn't stand the suspense. I got up to have a look under the tree. And sure enough there was the typewriter with a bow on it for me.

Other memories that will always stay with me are that when we were growing up, he taught us tolerance and acceptance of others. Many of the other Serbian parents within our community would not let their children play with "American" children outside of school. My parents never imposed this restriction upon us and allowed us to make our own choices in regard to whom we associated with. During a particularly tough time of my medical training, my father said: "Don't do it for me. And if you choose not to go on to become a doctor I wouldn't love you any less." His words served to give me the strength to carry on and complete my training.

Periodically after my father's death, I would dream about him. The dreams were always so real. I would wake up so happy as if I had really been with and had seen my father. I would also periodically smell his smell, the one of cologne and manliness. Then for a long time both of these remembrances were gone. About a year after my father's death, I was called in to deliver one of my pregnant patients. It was an easy delivery of healthy baby. I walked out of the room with a smile on my face and it was then that I smelled my father's smell. It was then that I knew that he knew. He knew what I had become and he was right there with me as he would always be. It was the last time that I smelled my father but the first time I smiled and didn't cry in his remembrance.

..........

If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

............

My Father's Gift

By: Rami Chahine

My birthday is in two days and I want that tennis racket badly. Mine is small, the grip is not right, the strings need tightening, but I am still using it because my mother bought it for me. It was my birthday present three years ago. Whether I get the new racket, my dream racket, really depends on my father's financial situation during this month. You see, life is tough-tougher since my mother died three years ago of a brain tumour. This happened two weeks after my eleventh birthday.

We were all devastated when my mother passed away. My two brothers and I depended on her for everything because my father used to travel a lot. However, we never imagined that her death would turn our lives around, especially my father's life.

For a whole month after her death, Dad did not leave the house. He did not answer the million phone calls he received, did not want to see anyone and very rarely spoke. He eventually quit his well-paid job and explained to us that we had to leave the company house we had been living in for years. We would have to rent a smaller apartment in a less affluent area until he found another less stressful job which would allow him to spend more time with us. He also told us that we would be without a maid and a driver for a while until things had been settled. He said that he was counting on us to help out whenever we could and promised that things would become better once he found a job. This is when our hardships began, but this is also the time I realized that my Dad was one of a kind, a very special, caring, devoted father.

The move was difficult. We had to get rid of many things, including furniture, books, televisions, bicycles, scooters, and many other outdoor equipments that we had been using for many, many long happy years. The most difficult things that we had to give up were my mother's beloved pot plants. She used to spend hours in her little garden taking care of "her babies" as she often referred to them. At first, Dad refused to sell them, but as the day of our move was coming nearer, he knew that it was no use keeping them and realized that they had to be sold. When the buyer came, we all could see the tears in his eyes as he told the buyer to look after them well.

The new apartment wasn't that bad. It was small and I had to share a room with my brother, but it was manageable. Our Dad made sure that we were all settled in comfortably and we had everything we needed to study, like a desk and a laptop in our own little corners. It wasn't very difficult to keep the house as clean as my mother would have wanted it. We all chipped in and did our chores, but of course, most of the burden was and still is on Dad.

He wakes up every morning at exactly five o'clock. As he is preparing our school snacks, he has a coffee. He then packs our snacks in our bags and heads for the shower. He dresses up quickly and wakes us up. When we are washing up, he fixes our beds and picks up the laundry after each one of us. He loads the washing machine, turns it on and shouts, "Ready, boys! Let's go! We don't want to be late!" His words have become so familiar to all of us that we now say them along with him. We then all laugh and head out.

Fortunately for all of us, he did find a job a few months after we moved. It is not as prestigious as his old job, but he seems to like it. He is one of the shift managers in a hypermarket and the General Manager was kind enough to agree that he only works during the morning shift, 7:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. It doesn't pay as well as his old job, so we have to budget and plan everything. At the end of each month, we sit down, the four of us, and talk about what we need, what bills are coming up, how much we can spend on entertainment, how often we can eat out and where and who needs what. The dining room table turns into a mini conference table, covered with bills, papers, pens, money and shopping lists. This routine takes us about an hour, every last Friday of each month. It is a heated day, full of arguments, disagreements and quarrels, but at the end of our family conference somehow he ends up pleasing everybody, usually at his own expense.

Dad picks us from school at around 2:15 and as we head home, we talk about our day. When we reach home, we shower as he is preparing the dinner he planned the previous night. As dinner is cooking, he hangs the washing, dusts, and sweeps, cleans toilets, waters my mother's indoors plants and answers any questions we may have about our homework. We sit for dinner at exactly six and discuss many things, including dinner for the next day. We then help him with the dishes. He later checks our homework and makes sure we have packed everything we need for the next day. Our day is nearly done, but not his. He goes around the apartment one more time, making sure that everything is in order, the way my Mom would want. As he walks around, he takes time to adjust, dust or wipe every picture of my Mom that he has carefully placed in every room, including the kitchen. He misses her terribly!

Our weekends and holidays are filled with activities. He makes sure we spend quality time together doing anything any of us wants. We go shopping, watch a movie, spend time in an arcade, and go swimming, play tennis, all of which depend on the budget we discussed at the end of that particular month. If we run out of budget, then we stay home and play cards or board games or simply make popcorn and watch a movie together.

We all knew that this month would be a tough one. There were many bills to pay, Eid was around the corner, and there was my birthday. My Dad had told me that he probably would not be able to get that tennis racket for me this year, and I was pretty upset. Although I tried not to show it, he knew. On the first day of Eid, two days before my birthday, he woke us up at nine, joyfully yelling, "Eid Mubarak, boys!" As we woke up, he handed each one of us an envelope with money. We went to the dining room and found our favourite breakfast, pancakes! The table was full of sweet treats. He must have woke up very early, I thought! The whole day was perfect, except the fact that there was no mention of my upcoming birthday or my gift!

The night before my birthday, I slept in my father's room because I wanted to wake up early, with him. He promised that he would take me shopping to try and find a cheaper tennis racket that the one I wanted. When I opened my eyes, he wasn't there! I looked at the clock, and it was already nine o'clock. I was worried that he had already left, without me. As I jumped out of bed, my feet hit something. I could make up that it was a present because the foil wrapping was glittering in the dark room. I pulled the curtains open, and I found the wrapped up tennis racket on the floor, next to the bed. I picked it up and ran towards the kitchen where I knew he would be sitting at the kitchen table, staring at my mother's picture and sipping a coffee. I flung myself at him and kissed him, "You are the greatest! I love you. Thank you!" He asked me to open it and as I unwrapped, I knew it was the one I had always wanted. I looked at him and I could see those tears again, but I couldn't understand why!

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I Love My Dad

By: Randa Dibaje

My father is the captivating light that builds up my astonishing life. He has put me into both hard and easy tasks to keep me away from harm. He usually only upsets me for my own good and pleases me to keep a smile on my face and some father-love into my heart. Those are all symptoms of lovely care from a great father.

My father has reasons for every single thing he does to me. He sends me to school to learn and build up a moral future, he punishes me to learn from my mistakes instead of making those mistakes in the future and stops me from things I like doing the most because he knows that those things will affect me. He has the right to upset me because I am his daughter, he cares about me and about what is going with me and around me. There is always a good reason for him to put me down in anyway, that's why he is a marvellous father.

A few months ago, he went away for a while. He was forced to leave us for a bit. Even though he left us, we knew that his love for his family would always stay in his heart and it would stay in our hearts too. We actually did upset him while he was away, surprises always pop out, but the strength of love never broke down.

Since the day I was born until right now, he has been teaching me new things and helping me through every single doubt. He first of all prevented me from all harmful diseases, put me into safe care and taught me how to walk, eat, read, learn, respect and most importantly; to handle my own responsibilities. By responsibilities I mean, to handle things on my own, when I get sick I can take care of myself without having him looking after me, buy me expensive things and keep them safe, do all important and unimportant tasks on my own and holding some trust in my heart. He has given me millions of simple and extremely hard tasks, sometimes I do actually fail to do them but he knows that I tried my best because he trusts me. Trust means to rely on or believe in the truthfulness, accuracy and ability of anything that he needs me in. I believe that I have given him those specific needs, but once I failed it very badly. My father has always cared for my studies, he tells me that one day I would understand why studies are important, but I mistreated his care and trust and did my worst at studying science.

Once, at the age of 12, he trusted me and told me to study science lesson-by-lesson because it is a really significant subject. What I did is just ignore and unfocused my mind in science. I thought that science was really hard because I had to learn many long words, which was a really dim reason actually. Whenever my father used to tell me go study science, I would tell him I don't need to study it because I know it all. He used to believe that and with all his heart tell me "Well done, I can see that you have your own responsibilities now." I wouldn't feel bad or guilty at all. When it came to my exams, I barely studied because I thought I knew everything. When the report came out all I could see is a huge, enormous, gigantic disappointment. It blew of all my father's trusts in me, all I could see in the look of his face, regret. After that, I knew that he would take away all my precious things and things that caught me up a lot during study-time. But he didn't, I told him to but he didn't. He told me that it wasn't my fault but it was his fault of trusting me and that he should have looked after me and my studies because this really depended on my future. I felt really sorry; I only didn't feel sorry for him but also sorry for my own self for not noticing what good situation I was in and what situation I was going to be in after this. My father also told me that after this disappointment we both learnt our lessons; he learnt that he won't just throw his heart's trust to anyone, it needs thinking and time, and what I learned from this was that next time I should really handle my responsibilities because I had trust, which isn't a really easy thing to get hold of. After that, my father used to check on me after I study every single page in my science text book, and I really did improve in science and my marks went higher and better.

In life, you can learn lessons from the person who is teaching you lessons. You can teach yourself to take your own responsibilities by the people around you, like your sister or any other family member. That's how my father guarantees to give me responsibilities because he learnt from his past. His care, trust and love means a lot to me, more than the things I love.

My father also cares about my happiness and not only my happiness, but he also cares about the happiness of everyone in the family. He has been through every easy and hard situation of every one of us. Not only us, but also the people he takes care of and helps in the hospital. My father is a very successful doctor, he studied a lot of biology and now he has a perfect life, with a perfect wife, my mother.

The father is the male parent, he is the man who can control you and the rest of the family member and from all his love and heart, and he will protect the family's strength and reputation. That's what my father does, I am fully proud to call him My Father.

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My Father– My Driving Force

By: Rency Thomas

Today is the closing date for the story submission to this great book on fathers, an opportunity to pay tribute to "My Father"...and here I am, very sure that I want my entry to be in it yet procrastinating the actual moment to sit down and write it! Now had it been the other way round i.e a chance for a father to write about one's daughter..I can with absolute certainty say that my father's entry would have been one of the first submissions. Well that clearly describes both of us and yet today if I have achieved anything worth being talked about or if I have become an individual whom someone else looks up to, there definitely has been a driving force behind a procrastinator like me and it's none other than "My Father".

Let me give you a glimpse of my life during school days. I was just like any other kid who wishes to pass through school without drawing much attention to oneself, which meant neither being the topper or at the bottom of the class but an average student. However that would never have been acceptable to my father, who despite his busy schedule would keep an active account of all our academic and co-curricular activities and ensured that my brother and I participated in everything possible (which of course needless to say I would have happily given a skip and let other hard working achievers participate!) If I have so far given the readers an impression that I'm a lazy, reserved person without any talents then please stand corrected. When pushed into activities, my competitive spirit takes over and makes me perform par excellence ending up definitely somewhere among the toppers. Take for instance this coveted "huge doll" which I had been eyeing since long. My dad refused to buy it probably because it was expensive. However trust him to tempt me with a condition that if I managed to top in the forthcoming Maths exam, the doll could be mine. Today the doll still finds a place at my parental home book shelf! (For the records I scored 100/100 just to ensure that no one could top that..howz that for competitiveness??). This was the kind of driving force that breezed me through my college days too, which saw me becoming the college students union "President" and ending up reviving a "long laid to rest" cultural show and bringing laurels to my college. One can only imagine the forcefulness with which my dad's presence always accompanied my endeavors and that too considering that he was working in the Gulf those days. In this task he was ably assisted by my brother who acted at times like my dad's local representative (in his absence) for instigating and motivating a lazy person like me into action.

I had graduated and stood at crossroads of life. Though by now it may sound predictable to all that my father would have thought up of a perfect competitive challenge to test me again! Well he had! In India the Defense services had just then opened their portals to ladies for the 1st time (apart from the already existing medical corp). Of course my father wanted me to attempt for it because (according to him) "it gives you the opportunity to compete among your peers on a countrywide basis and see where you stand" So poor me despite all the excuses I tried to come up with to avoid this course of life, ended up going to the selection board and attempting the physical and mental challenges which lasted 4-5 days and which I have never attempted or trained at before. To cut a long story short, out of over 24000 applications received (as per newspaper reports) I managed to wriggle into the team of 6 ladies who qualified for further training into the Admin branch of the Indian Air Force. Now my father dear "as usual" was very kind in his tone when he advised me that despite being the 6th on the team merit wise, I shouldn't lose hope. Rather I should consider that I still had a year of training period ahead and at the end of which (according to him) I could still emerge the topper of the batch!!! I'm sure there were tears in his eyes when he witnessed me graduating as an officer 12 months later, particularly when I received the medal for the "Best Performer" of the Admin branch.

Life has continued with its share of ups and downs for me. Marriage, kid, frequent transfers..but through it all the person I have become and the confidence with which I face life's challenges today, might all have been different had it not been for a driving force like my dad behind me. Most of the time..pushing me into activities half heartedly, awakening the competitive spirit in me and making me scale heights and gain confidence which otherwise, would have remained just opportunities that I would have let pass by... Now of course with more distances separating us the amount of his direct influence in my life has reduced, yet he is still at it and has been hinting at me for not pursuing further education. Again according to him 'at the age of 60 if he can get his Ph D, why can't I too give it a shot?" Well I haven't succumbed to this one yet but maybe one day if my name is seen listed in the directory with the prefix "Dr" one would not need to search far to find who was the driving force behind that..of course my father Dr. Christopher Mathew Thomas, M.A, M.Phil, PhD!!

I may have grumbled all along and never paused to say a "Thank you" to him and my mom (who has been an epitome of love and kindness in my life) , but would like to seize this opportunity to pen down my feelings. Love You Dad..May God keep you and mom safe always.

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DAD –My Super Hero

By: Renita D'silva

As I sit in the midst of silence and go down memory lane, I feel that I am blessed to have the best father in the whole world.

There are so many essays and articles written about mothers but there are very few things written about fathers. For this, I am very fortunate that I got an opportunity to write about my dearest dad's role in my life.

My father has played an important role in my upbringing .Dad and I have a very emotional and strong bonding. My father is a very happy go lucky person. He lives his life to the fullest. He enjoys every second of his life.

As these 17 years have passed, there is not a single day that I have not thanked God for my parents.

When I was born, my father and my loving grandma were the first to welcome me in this world.

As my mother is a working woman, she used to leave for office at 05.45 in the morning and return by 5 in the evening, my father was always with me to take care of me. All the values which I have learnt have been given by my father.

When we (my sister and I) became old enough to go to school, my Dad always taught us how to be independent. He taught us how to tie our own shoe lace but never used to tie it for us. He used to teach us how to eat food with our own hands but he never fed us. He used to follow the saying "Teach the child how to catch a fish, but don't catch the fish for him".

My Dad is very loving and caring but when we made mistakes, he used to whack us. He used to follow another saying that 'Spare the rod and spoil the child'. He used to tell our mistakes and tell us that we should not commit the mistake again. By his teaching, he made us independent and strong enough to take good decisions. He taught us to learn from our mistakes.

My father has done everything which I think no other father in this world could do.

In my mother's absence, my father used to cook breakfast and lunch for us. He neither complained nor got tired. He just loves cooking. His dishes, especially continental food is just mind blowing.

As I reached my adolescent age, my father used to teach me how to take decision. He was the one who always helped me in problems, My Dad is very supportive when it comes to decision making.

As I see my friends' fathers, they never let their children especially girls go out with friends for an outing. They have many restrictions. But I am fortunate that my father is very supportive, he never stops me from going out with my friend. He never imposed restrictions and rules over me. He gave me freedom but made it clear that freedom should also have a limit and overdoing it would lead to consequences. This lesson helped me to do things in limit and never over do it.

My father is just marvellous. And I will never hurt him in any ways. I will always keep him in my prayers and thank God for giving him in my life.

My Father can be described as:

F - Friendly  
A - Appreciating  
T - Truthful  
H - Happy  
E - Efficient  
R - Respectful

At 1, he would have lost his sleep to take care of us.  
At 10, he would have lost his favourite thing to pay for our school fees,  
At 18, he would have lost all his savings to give us good education.  
At 22, he would have lost his respect to get us a job,  
To keep us rich, he would have not even purchased clothes for himself,  
To make us lead luxurious life, he would have not even taken care of his own health.  
He is the one who sheds his personal interest for us to have a happy life,  
So never hurt your Dad  
Salute your Dad for his sacrifices  
Thank your Dad for everything.

Love you Dad for what you are and for what you have given us.

Your Loving Daughters,  
Renita with beloved sister, Sharon

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My Father - My Everything

By: Ross Vernon Dias

My father arrived in Qatar in the early 80s when it was still just a dry desert, hot as ever, without it's ever rising sky scrapers and numerous malls. Back then there was only 'The Center' to buy groceries and other essential things, and a huge structure rising quickly on the Cornice (Sea shore) that would be later known as the famous 'Sheraton' Hotel. He had come to Doha to begin his life far away from his home and family in a strange new place that later, came to be known as my home, as I was born and raised right here in Qatar with almost the whole of my maternal side of the family around me (my paternal side still lived in Pune, Maharashtra, India).

Our family is a normal Indian Christian family consisting of my father; mother, brother, sister and me. The first time this changed was when my sister went to complete her education in Canada this summer. We were a family that travelled a lot too, for we all liked visiting new places and meeting new people with diverse cultures and ways of living.

My Father -- a Friend Maker: As years passed by, my father grew more accustomed to and popular across Doha. When Qatar and I were younger I felt as if my father knew everyone, for he really did know a lot of people, almost everyone in fact. Now, during the era of the mobile phone, it is easier to notice the number of friends he made during his lifetime for he has more than three thousand contacts on his phone, and that number is increasing almost every day.

My Father -- the Stylish: Once at church an unknown woman came up to my mother and said – "You must be so proud that your husband dresses so well". For it was very true, my father was one of the best (and most neatly) dressed people I knew. He would almost never be seen without a suit or tie. He had a large collection of ties for every occasion in his closet ranging from the traditional black tie to the colourful Christmas tie that had a picture of Santa Claus on it. He made sure to keep a very good image of himself, dressing appropriately and properly everywhere he went mixing and matching styles, creating a style of his own.

My Father -- the Body guard: My father could never tolerate his children being bullied or hurt. He would always fight for us in every situation. I remember once when there was an incident at school where a boy was picking on me because I was small, my father went and talked to the boy and from the very next day the boy has not troubled me ever again. No wrong could be done to his children while he was still alive. He would also not tolerate us fighting amongst each other. That was absolutely unacceptable to him. He would either try changing the topic or creating a diversion to divert our minds and most of the time he was successful as it worked on us and we would forget the purpose of our fight.

My Father - the GPS: You want to know directions to anywhere? Ask my father. Because he is the best person I know at keeping track of locations with a system that consisted of a good memory and an alert and efficient mind. If he would go somewhere once he would never forget that place ever. Even if you take him through the most confusing route possible (with loads of lefts and rights and turns), he would still be able to find the place even two years later!!

My Father as a Transporter: My father and I spent a lot of our time together in the car, driving me to places I had to be without a single complaint. Be it to school, tuition, malls, and parties or wherever, my father would take me there right on time combating the aggressive Doha traffic as we went. No matter how long the lines were at the signals or roundabouts, somehow (through short cuts & by-lanes) we would always reach our destination right on time not a second too late. I used to hate his driving skills when I was still young and slow, but I never realized till late that without them, I would have gotten a tardy slip from school nearly every day for the traffic in the mornings on the roads of Qatar was un-imaginable.

My Father – a Cook: When I was younger, I actually longed for break time at school. I was never disappointed as everyday my father would pack something appetizing and exclusive in my lunch box. He would get up early and painstakingly work for more than an hour and a half to fashion the lunch that would appear in my box. Every day after coming back from school my father would again prepare lunch as my mom would still be at work. When I was small (Grade 4 almost) my father would feed me my lunch even though I was perfectly capable of feeding myself as my eyes would be glued to the television set watching some of the cartoons I used to love.

My Father – the helpful: It would be impossible to complete any tribute to my father if I didn't mention this aspect of his life, as he was an ever helpful person using effort to help everyone if he could, even if it cost him a price. He would treat everyone equal, being cordial even to his enemies. Helping others must have been his second name because I haven't yet seen a day when my father did not extend his reach to those in need of his help, may it be, dropping a child home from school when his father was stuck in a traffic jam or whatever.

My Father – a Father

Finally, the most important is the aspect of my father's life to me, and that fact is, the above man with so many sides and faces to him is indeed my father. They say one cannot choose your parents. But if I ever did get a chance to choose my parents, I surely know that I would choose my father to be this father once again because he is the perfect father, he is 'My Father'!!

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The Best Father

By: Rowda Al Attiya

Dictionary.com says that the definition of a father is a male parent! My father is not just a male parent for me he's more than that. He's someone I love, someone I trust, and he's someone who takes care of me. My father is special to me because he provides for me, he takes us out together, and he plays with me.

First, my father is special to me because he provides for me. He provides us a house that we have our own bathrooms and bedrooms. In the house we have a living room, a Majlis, kitchen, a swimming pool, a lawn, and a playing room. He also provides us clothes. He provides us summer clothes, winter clothes, swimming clothes, and he provides us Eid clothes. Eid clothes are important because in Eid we wear new special clothes and new shoes. In Eid we go out and collect money or sweets. We go to our grandparent's house and play with our cousins. The Eid is for three days and every day is a new happy day. He also provides us money. I think my father works very hard, and he starts work at 8:00 and he finish at about 11:30 that's why I think he works very hard. He provides me with hospital care; he takes me to hospital when I am sick and he takes me to the dentist. One day when we went to the dentist he was talking to the dentist about my teeth and they said that I needed braces. After two days we came back to the dentist and the doctor put on the braces. I stayed about five minutes, it started hurting me, then we paid and went back home. At night it hurt me and it gave me a headache also. So I did not go to school the next day. It hurt me about the first 2 weeks. It was okay sometimes except I felt pain when I ate. That's way I feel happy for my father and its shows me how my father loves me and my family, and why he's important to me.

Second reason, my father is special to me because we go out together. He takes us to restaurants every Saturday. Most times we go out to a restaurant that's called Bennigan's. We go on Saturdays because on Fridays my father has to go to the mosque, and on other days we have school in the morning. That's why we go on Saturdays and not other days. We also go out together to the Cornice. The Cornice is a beach with lots of grass and trees. The weather there is perfect to walk. There are many things to do like boat riding, and fishing. When we go there we ride a boat, we do a small picnic, and play hide and seek. I feel joyful after playing with my father.

We also go to my grandfather's house together. In my grand fathers house we chat and drink tea and then we go outside and play with my cousins. We play many different things like football, motorbikes, and hide and seek. We do lots of other things. We go to grandma's house at about 3:30pm and we come back about 10:00 or 11:00pm.

Third reason, my father is special to me, because he plays with me. One day when I was 9 years old, in my home in Doha, outside on the grass my father was playing football and said "Rowda come play with me football." "I don't know" I said. "Come, I will teach how to play football" he said. I went down to the grass, he kicked the ball to me, and I kicked the ball back, "Rowda, you can't kick the ball from front of your foot, you have to kick it sideways" he said. "Ok" I said. He kicked the ball to me five times and I learned how to kick. "Now we will learn how to kick the ball up high" he said. "Ok" I said. So he kicked the ball up so high that I didn't know how to stop it and it hit my head so hard that I fell on the ground. My father ran to me "Are you ok" he asked. "My head is hurting me," I said. He took me in side and put ice on my head. After putting the ice he asked me again "Are you ok? "Yes" I said. That showed me how my father takes care of me. "Are you ready to learn more football" he asked. "Yes" I said. And we went outside and he started teaching me how to kick the ball up. "You have to put your foot under the ball and pick up your foot and kick," he said. So I tried it about five times or six and it worked. So after he taught me how to kick, we played for 10 more minutes and then we went inside. When we went inside we took a bath and went down and sat in the living room, and watched TV. "Did you have fun Rowda?" he said. "Yes" I said. "Good" he said.

Other things I played with my father are dodge ball with water balloons and swimming. I like it when my father plays with me because he makes the games really fun. Like dodge ball we play it with water balloons, he makes us laugh by doing silly things and closing his eyes and bumps into things. That's why I love playing with my father; he makes the game really fun. And, those reasons make him the best father.

In conclusion, I think my father is so important in my life. Without my father I won't have a good life; without my father providing me stuff, without care and love I won't have good life. My father is special to me because he provides for me, he takes us out together, and we also play together. I feel so happy for my father. That's why I think good things about my father. All these things help me remember my father. He provides me with things that let me feel happy, loved, and cared for. It also helps teach me for when I'm grown up and have a big happy family insha Allah (God willing).

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My Caring Father

By: Rudein Abu Hamdan

My father was born in Amman, Jordan on 1966 to Lebanese parents. He studied and graduated from school in Jordan. Then he went to USA and studied in Oklahoma State University in Stillwater, Oklahoma. After he graduated he went back to Jordan and had to serve the army but he didn't because he had an accident and he broke his neck after a year. He worked in a shipping agency for three years. When the Iraq war broke out in Jordan my dad had to leave the country to Lebanon. Then he started working in Lebanon in a bank as a manager. Then he married my Mom.

After two years of their marriage my brother was born in 1996, He was the first child in the family, a year and a half later I was born and happiness came into the eyes of my dad.

After three month looking for a new job, he had a chance to work in Qatar in the oil and industry service in Venture Gulf.

When I went to Qatar, my family started a new life there and my dad had a better job with a better salary. My dad's work got better and better and he loved his work a lot.

When I was three years old, I went to school and it was the best school ever 'Qatar International School' and I haven't left it till now. I have made a lot of friends those ten years of school.

My dad is so kind. He gets me whatever I want. He is so much fun. We do a lot of things. But if he has any problems, he doesn't make us feel it.

He had some problems with his work but he still stayed working. The next year he changed his work and started working in 'Blue Salon' as a Financer.

Every single summer my dad takes us to different countries to relax and have fun. In summer 2005 we went to America to my aunt in California - Los Angeles and we went to different places in 2 months and then went back to Qatar. Every year we used to go to different countries and have so much fun and then go back to school in September and my dad goes back to his work.

In 2006 my dad got himself a brand new jeep 'Cherokee' and that was his second car after he left his other work. He surprised us when we were coming from Lebanon.

In the middle of the year 2006, my mom got persuaded by my dad to start driving and do the test to get her driver's license. So she did the driver's test and passed and got her own drivers license. So, life was easier, she started taking us out while my father was at work.

My mom stopped driving after she had a small accident with the car, which made my mom scared. She didn't want to drive since, but my dad started persuading her to continue driving and my dad didn't care how much he had to pay to fix the car. But my mom was mad because of making my dad pay.

In 2008, my mom, my dad, my brother and I went to Dubai to our cousins in El Sharjah. We had so much fun. We went to emirates mall and a lot of places such as to the museum, park, malls and a lot of other places, and we celebrated the New Year and stayed up the whole night playing and talking and getting presents from our cousins and our parents. And when the clock ticked 12:00am we all gave out our presents to each other celebrating New Year. The next year we went back to Qatar to start a new term in school.

On 7th of June 2009, my dad got me and my brother a new laptop for my birthday so we can use it for studying and for having fun on the computer.

On 24th of June 2009 it was the last day of school. On the 25th of June we went to Lebanon for a summer holiday. But we didn't stay there for a long time because war broke out between Lebanon and Israel, so we had to leave the country. So we left and went to Jordan for three days and my aunt was there so we had so much fun. We went to a place called 'Amman waves' which is one of the best clubs in Jordan. Then we had to go back to Qatar and my aunt had to go back to America.

When I came with my family from Jordan, my brother and I went back to school and my dad went back to work.

In November 2009, my dad was really happy of my report that I got from school and my dad got me the best present ever and the present was a PS3 the thing that I always wanted and I was really happy. But my dad told me that I have to share it with my brother or he will be mad at me and will take it and wouldn't give it back to me.

In March 2009 my dad got us to go to a club in Qatar to play basketball and swim and play all the other sports. We used to go there with our parents to play and have fun, especially to play sports.

I want to say how much my father makes me proud of him and I want to specially thank him for letting me have a good life. So, I just want to say, never get angry at your parents but always thank them for what they are trying to give you and what they actually want you to achieve from what they're spending on us.

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My Very Special Gift, My Father

By: Rupal Aroza

Someone once said that "Any man can be a father, but it takes a special person to be a dad, the greatest gift I ever had came from God, and I call him Dad!"

12th July 1995, a day where the roads in Doha- Qatar, where it was a busy day with heavy traffic jam on the way and with loads of consequences, when suddenly a baby cried. That baby was me. I was born in the women's hospital in Doha- Qatar, and there were two extremely delightful parents who are my mother and my father. After the day I was born, the nurse enters the room and says that the child is in critical condition since the baby born is only seven months old, and hence the baby is premature. My parents were terrified after hearing this news. The nurse said to my parents that I had to be away from my parents, and that I had to be transferred to the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) for about two months.

After they came to that I would be away from them for two months, they felt as if their dreams and wishes were all shattered. But due to their determination, their courage, and due to their selfless love for me, they accepted the doctor's suggestion.

From the day I had been incubated in the NICU, my parent's especially my father everyday used to see me, but they always wished and prayed, that one day our daughter will be perfectly alright and they could take their daughter home in their arms. In today's increasingly complicated world, it's often difficult for parents to connect with their daughters–and especially so for fathers. In this unique and invaluable guide, Dr. Meg Meeker, a pediatrician with more than twenty years' experience counseling girls, reveals that a young woman's relationship with her father is far more important than we've ever realized. To become a strong, confident woman, a daughter needs her father's attention, protection, courage, and wisdom.

As I grew up, my father held my fingers and taught me to walk. The unbelievable fact about me when I was small was that I never tried to utter a word till the age of 4, but I could only utter one word from my mouth and that was the word dada. Even though I could not talk or even utter a word, my father helped me a lot in helping me to speak and after all his hard work and his endeavors, by the age of 5, I was able to speak and communicate to people properly.

As a daughter we always feel that we are more attached to our father as compared to our mother. This is the reason why a daddy's little girl has been given the slogan 'daddy's favorite.' To me, being my dad's little girl when I grew into a school going child, he was always used to wake me up early in the morning, brush my teeth, comb my hair and then drive me to school. Even now my father never wants me to face the challenges and the hardships in my life, but to me, if I have to face the challenges on this world I am always determined enough to do it.

As I grew even bigger my father was always used to send me training to develop the values of my talents. Once when I was just doing my homework, I was just humming and singing a song to myself when suddenly, my father heard me singing and then he was so glad that his daughter had actually a talent for singing within her. From my kindergarten till today, my father has always supported in my talents and because of him I am able to face a huge crowd in front of me. To me my father has not only chosen studies in my life, but with it he even wanted me to get involved in other co-curricular activities in which I'm good at.

There is one incident that I would like to share with you. When I was a little girl in kindergarten, when my friends and I were playing on the slide, suddenly I skipped from the slide and fell from the height to the ground. After falling I went blank but then I became conscious, I could feel something really painful on my right hand. My father could not bear my injury. So he took me to the hospital. When we went to see a doctor, he took an X-RAY of my right hand and then he said there was a major fracture on my hand. After all the therapy to secure the hand with plaster-of-Paris, my father took care of me, since I was injured. He taught me how to handle myself while having a broken arm. This is one incident in which my father helped me a lot all through the days of the injury till I felt better.

Being the only child to my parents, my father never pampered me. He is good to me and he admires me when I am good, but when I'm not following the right path, he corrects me at the right time. To me, a daughter and father relationship is very important and fathers are role models for their daughters. When a girl is growing up she is unaware of the real world and the harsh attitude of the world. Her father is the one who shows her the right path as he is a very experienced personality and have seen the way the world functions. As a daughter I feel that my father is the greatest gift to me.

Joseph Addison once said, "Certain is it that there is no kind of affection as purely angelic as of a father to a daughter. In love to our wives there is desire; to our sons, ambition; but to our daughters there is something which there is no words to express". Today I thank the almighty God for gifting me such wonderful parents to take care of me and to protect me always.

I especially thank God for gifting me a wonderful father.

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My Friend, My Brother, My Hero; My Father

By: Saad Manzoor Al-Suwaidi

I never thought I would come to know, the day that I wouldn't see you any more, all the things we did even if it was sad or boring, still fill my heart with your happiness. Without you here it is hard for all of us, not only me, but the family, friends and everyone who knew you. We miss you, and everything we did with you. When I was born when you held me in your arms, I can see from photographs your face filled with happiness looking at your new born son. Through the years you taught me a new thing every day, and you were by my side to pick me up when I fell, but now you're gone I have to be strong, and lift myself up using the skills you taught me.

You taught me so many important things in life, you taught me to recognize my rights and wrongs, to achieve my goals and head for my dreams, you taught me how to be a winner, and not weep if I lost. You taught me to behave myself, to not act like a fool at important events, but also to have fun and be a child at home, you taught me to have friends and keep them close, because I don't know how far I'll go with them in my life, and not to keep enemies in my heart, because it might come back like karma against me. Whenever I was in trouble or did something wrong, you would shout my name and I'd come up to you, and you would give me a life lesson and tell me that you were once in my place. At the time, I would sit there and listen and say what you said to me is useless and walk away sad, mad or angry that I thought you did not understand me, but now that I think of it, what you said is all useful, and helps me through my life.

My father's advice was always the best, though I was young and dumb and did not understand him, now I realize how much he helped me in my life, and how much he changed me to become a better man. It is almost as if he was in my place when he was younger, and experienced everything I did, when he used to talk to me.

Losing you was the biggest loss that has ever happened to me; I never really thought at the age of 15 that you wouldn't be here with me. Every thought of you brings a tear to my eye, but most of those tears are tears of joy when I think about the time we spent together. When we lived in Al-Khor, we would take walks around the compound, you would take me to the park when I was a little boy and on some afternoons we would drive around for 30 minutes and we would have a laugh at things. You used to invite your friends over to the house every Thursday night, with them sitting in the backyard, and I would look at you and see you laughing and having fun, and I would want to join you and your friends, but I was too young to understand what you were saying. Bonding between you, my brother Farhan and I was the most amazing thing, we were like three brothers and friends even, but I still had the respect that you were my father. We went camping together with family, by the sea side once a month, catching fish and using quad bikes and have short races with each other. You even taught me how to cook in the kitchen and out in the desert, not only that but you also taught me how to drive. I still do that and my friends are amazed at how good I am at driving, and how good a cook I am.

When we went to Doha, you always said, "One day we would move to this city," and I used to cry, get sad and express my feelings for you, and when we went to my grandmother's house, I used to think that I couldn't survive in Doha, and it wasn't safe. Then you came to me and said don't worry about a thing; you would always be there to protect me, no matter what happens. You convinced me to move to Doha, saying there are malls, more fun places and were close to a lot of our family. Growing up and becoming a teenager, we got closer and we talked about a lot of things, and whenever we went out for a drive or go to a place, we talked a lot and express our feelings to each other, and you gave me a lot of advice that was really helpful to me. Even your best friends, gave me advice and it was similar to yours. You friends still come over to our house and reminisce about the times we all had with you. When we moved to the house in Doha, I didn't lose all my friends, I was older and realized it was a new experience and they were only 20-30 minutes away. Moving to Doha was an experience living in another city, and it was great because all the places that we used to go to were close by, and in the summer we go out every other day to different and new places. I have a lot of characteristics from you, and people say I also look like you, but you were certainly a lot bigger than me, but you went to the gym every twice a week, and I have now started doing such a program to build up myself, to look muscular like you.

Since you left, mom has always said that I am so much like you, my attitude, my looks, the way I decide things and everything I do: even her friends, your friends and the family say I am like you. I realize now the time I spent with you was so precious, I never realized that time would be so short, but in that time you taught me so much wanting me to learn from my mistakes.

You will always be one of the greatest men in my life. I'm always thinking of you, and one day when I have children of my own, I'll pass on everything I have learned from you to them, and I will also let them know who you were, my friend, brother, my hero, My Father.

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My Father –A Self Made Person

By: Saadiyah A.R.Mukadam

I rubbed my eyes hard, trying to adjust to the sun's rays falling straight on my face. I heard the sound of the birds chirping on my balcony. I went out in the balcony and was looking out at the clear blue sky of April. It was the beginning of long summer in Mumbai. Mumbai is the financial and entertainment capital of India. I was born here and have been living here since.

I love the cosmopolitan culture of Mumbai and its hectic pace. 'Shazu.. come down for breakfast' my mother's voice disrupted my thoughts of beauty of nature. She was calling me to finish breakfast and hurry up for school. While having breakfast I picked up the newspaper. The front page of the newspaper showed that an oil tanker had been hijacked by Somalian pirates near the coast of Somalia. And since my father is in merchant navy I had heard about ships being hijacked and kept in Somalia till the owners paid a ransom.

I was stunned, reading the headlines. Since in the back of my mind I had a doubt that may be the ship in the news could be my father's. That day went just trying to call up the office, to get to know where and how is my father.

The next few days were full of media reports, making headlines without much knowledge of the situation. Each and every reporter put the blame on the captain of the ship. But little did they consider that the man in uniform was someone's father, husband or son, but making own conclusions, without being aware of the emotions of the families who were worried. Since my father was sailing at that moment I and my mother were very worried. We knew that my father was passing through the same route where the Somalian pirates had hijacked the ship. "Shaz, call up the Mumbai office and enquire about daddy's location" my mom told me in a very stressful tone. I dialled the number. The man on the other side was with a husky voice and replied that my father was on his way to Argentina, this got me worried as he would be also passing through the same route of the piracy area. Without listening any further I hung the receiver tears rolling down my cheeks. I was worried about my father's safety.

Sitting wearily on the couch, I thought, may be when my father left for his sail I should have stopped him, then he would never be in this mess. I closed my eyes and then some memories and flashbacks started to flow in front of my eyes.

The wind blew through my hair giving me the winter chill which I was not used to. The radio was on and the local songs being played, with my father humming them to glory, not my taste of music though. My ears were plugged with ear phones, but the music was not loud enough. 'Shaz, look on to your right!' exclaimed my father. Obeying my father's words I turned and saw a wooden board reading 'ST PETERS HIGH SCHOOL'. The structure looked like those of British legacy. Then I felt the jerk of the car, stopping. I got down, and looked around the entire place, it was lush green. My family and I had come to Panchgani, a place 8 hours away from Mumbai. Here my father had spent most of his childhood.

My father had been the second of his seven siblings. My grandfather used to work for the Kuwait Oil Company. My father and his elder brother and his third sibling used to stay in Panchgani in this boarding school. My father had always been studying alone without his parents, support. He was not just good in studies, but also an excellent sportsman.

After having a look at his old school we moved to a hotel to settle in for the night. After dinner my father had become emotional seeing his childhood place again. He started telling how he has landed here in this position. ''My childhood was never so much fun like yours Saadiyah. I have always been alone and striving alone in life. My parents died at the age of 21, a year so crucial for me and your uncles and aunties. This was reason why I joined merchant navy, for fast money so that I could support them and their education'. He went on saying how the money which he earned went in their education and college fees.

My father was born in Kuwait. But he never got to be with his parents for long. When he was in third standard, he was sent to India to this boarding school. Hearing this I was shocked, at the age of 9, I could not travel alone by plane but my father went alone and came from Kuwait to India!! My father went on how his early years of childhood was just like any child .But as my father moved into his teens, things changed. My grandfather then got four more children. Things started becoming expensive, so my grandfather could not come to meet my father and uncles every vacation. Nor my father could go to Kuwait to spend his holidays! "It was very depressing" said my father seeing everyone going spend their holidays with their parents and you are stuck up in school with no one around. My father and few of his friends would have to spend the vacations all alone. Now I understood why my father would hate it when I would like to go out with my friends instead of going out with him when he would come from his six month voyage. He wanted some kind of family time which I never understood at that time when he shouted at me. My father, after passing his tenth, came to Mumbai. But after passing his graduation, his parents died and then he had to take up a profession which would give him fast income so that he could support his younger.

The night became even colder, and the smoke of the fire died off. We went into our rooms to sleep. But I still could not understand how my father sacrificed his dream of becoming a doctor so that his siblings could have a good future just like him.

I opened my eyes, my vision blurred with the tears still stagnant in my eyes. I knew that, the trip to Panchgani with my father was the most memorable one. I thought that though he was a very good brother he was also an excellent father. When my father would come home after six months on board, he would compensate for the lost months. He would be the one telling me how to enjoy school days by going out for movies and outings. He would also teach me how to fight back with a person, be it physically or through words. He never would criticise anyone but would always tell me to respect them for what they are. The best part about my father is that he would always make others feel very comfortable, be it a sweeper or our very own servant. He always would tell me to be optimistic and think that "Yes, God has given me something to be proud of". He always does work with full enthusiasm and vigour and expects the same from me to. My father has not only been a very good father but also a good brother, husband and also a good son in law. Once, I remember, my father took me for an art competition. I had told him it was on a Sunday but I had forgotten to tell him the date. He cancelled his meeting and took me for the competition. But when we reached there we learned that the competition was on the next Sunday. I was shocked and knew I was in for trouble. But my father kept his cool and didn't even shout at me. Instead he then took me for a movie in the closest theatre. When I asked my father, he told me that anger is one's worst enemy. One should know how to tackle it and emerge as a winner. My father has always been a person who has never done anything in fits of anger. He has this quality which I still need to acquire, which are Patience and Tolerance.

I now realised that my father was my best friend. He would always listen to my childish talks about what happened in school and what my friends did. But I realised that when my father was around me, I never cared or thought about how it would be without him. I being the only child never made him pamper me. Instead he made sure I had a bit of his shouting everyday when he would come home on holidays. He always wished that I would become as meticulous in work as him. My laziness and irresponsible attitude always made him unhappy. Since he attained this position on his own hard work and merit, it is appropriate to call him a self made man.

"TRRINNGG"!!! Suddenly the phone rang! The ring shook me and made me come out of my grief-stricken world. I rushed and grabbed the receiver and pressed it onto my ear. "Hello?" I said. "Hello!! Shaz!!" I could not believe, it was my father's voice and he sounded extremely happy! I spoke for more than an hour with my father telling him about how we thought his ship was hijacked and how worried we were for 3 days not getting any call from him. To this he replied that he had bad weather and that's the reason he could not call us. And he said that he was in Argentina, faced no Somalian pirates and was now going to divert the ship to America. He asked if we wanted to spend the summer vacations with him sailing to America. Without a second thought I screamed "YESSS!!"...

I never realised my love for my father until I felt I had lost him. I knew, from now I am always going to thank god for one thing....

For having given me PARENTS!!! .................

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..........

If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

............
My Loving Father

By: Salman Fatahillah

Alex Hanief Isyna was born on June 6, in the year 1968. He was a very hard working person and I love him. He works at Qatar Petroleum as an engineer. My father has 5 children and all of them are boys. My father always (not always) was first and a winner. My dad always wanted to go for extra classes but his mother (my grandma) won't let him. My father always wanted to go to swimming classes, karate, badminton, English etc. but because my father's family was poor, his mother kept refusing by saying "There is not enough money!" My father's mother then accepted what my father wanted to do and later he went to extra English lessons.

My father was originally named A. Hanief and had no family name. When my father was in kindergarten the teacher asked what the "A" stands for, and my father thought of a cool name and said "Alex". But this is what my dad's mother (my grandmother) said to my dad; hence my dad doesn't know really where the Alex came from.

When my father wanted to go out of the town to go to better schools, he begged my grandmother and my grandmother was worried about him, but after that my father's father (my grandfather) said "Go ahead!" Afterwards he gave my father some money and then he went to Padang (a city where there were better schools). My dad had problems with his chores, like cooking, cleaning, laundry etc. My dad went to competitions and other things, the competitors were tough. My father had to fight and compete through these competitions with those other tough competitors.

My father's mother wanted my dad to be a doctor but it turns out that my father wasn't as good at biology and memorizing things. Now, the one who are the doctor are my father's sisters.

One day my dad wanted to go to one of the best universities, and he got accepted (this is how my father lived in the middle east, by being hard working and doing well in exams and finally getting a good job). Universities were very cheap back at those days. My dad made very good friends and they were religious. My dad and his friends from the university days are still in touch and are close friends.

My father was married to Anita Trimurti (my mother). The first two sons from my parents were twins in 1994. Then there was the third son in 1995, and then there was me in 1998, and next my little brother in 2003. My father then worked in Aceh, the north of Sumatra in Indonesia, the second biggest oil field in the world back then (now, the field is almost finished, hence not ranked) and that's where I was born. Someone asked my father if he wanted to go to Dallas, America, my father accepted it, but his boss didn't because my dad is already a senior worker and all the other workers were juniors and all the senior workers were gone. So my father and his family stayed in Aceh and moved back to Jakarta later.

When my dad moved back to Jakarta, someone in Qatar e-mailed my father to work in Qatar Petroleum. My dad was worried and surprised at the same time and e-mailed them back asking for more time to work in Qatar. My father delayed his trip so many times, for almost 2 years! But when my dad finally wanted to go to Qatar, my mom was pregnant, and the baby was my little brother (of course). This was in 2003. The airport authorities needed permission from a doctor for my mother to fly along, so my dad went to the doctor for permission and finally we flew to Qatar.

In Qatar, we stayed in the Ramada Hotel for a few weeks/months and we finally found a house to rent for 2/3 months. At that time, my little brother was born. After 3 months we went to move to a two-storied house for 1 and half years. Then we moved to a single-storied house and we still live there. In Qatar, my father (as I have said) worked in Qatar Petroleum and he worked hard and was promoted to the maximum possible for an expatriate.

My father and I didn't really spend time alone together, because (as you know) my father has 5 children including me and needs to spend time with all. But sometimes, my dad and I will have time together when going to the cinema, in the park, but sometimes with my other brother(s). Yes it is brother/brothers. My dad is my hero; he (of course) is one of the best role models for me and can sometimes be annoying (like most children think of their parents) and mad at me because I do unnecessary, yet bad, things. Well that's actually my fault without a doubt, unfortunately. My dad always tells me - when he is mad at me, he will say "I'm mad because I care about you" and he always says this, always.

My dad wouldn't let me buy any games or even a game platform (Wii, PS3, Xbox etc.) because all my dad would say "Would it help you in your education?" or "A computer with internet is enough" and I always get mad at this and just reply a normal "Ok" with a sad face and leave, and act casual (as usual).

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Love Of A Father

By: Sashmi Dunusinghe

She rested her head on the gratifying grass, widely staring like an eagle at the silhouettes of the shimmering stars present in the gloomy, blue sky. Just then tears of melancholy crawled down her pale, colorless cheeks when her sudden, despairing past came across her absent-mind.

She was in elementary school, dressed in a livid red dress, clear white socks and bright black shoes with a scarlet scarf around her neck, holding on to her dainty bicycle. As she turned around she saw an aging figure, who, lively gaited towards her and laid out a hefty, tanned hand instructing her tiny hands to grasp it. He picked her light body up and placed her on the triangle shaped seat, insisting that she becomes completely focused on the tarnish, rugged road and balances herself proportionately. He held on to her and gently shuffled by her side, while he taught her how to ride the bicycle. His uneven voice assured her that she would succeed and one day; ride on her own across the beautiful countryside.

As the time flew by like a stream of water, she grew into a charming, innocent teenager. He slowly opened her dark, brown eyes to a deeper knowledge of the world. Because of the presence of her father, sitting patiently beside her, guiding her throughout the heat of the day, and the cold of the night, the intense pressure of understanding, the equity of her life outside home, was as facile as counting to infinity. His companionship had always brought in happiness, guidance and safety to her life, also supported her when she had complicated issues on handling the foreign world. Yet his smile, was the most gracious and satisfying characteristic. Whenever she would see that divine and illuminating dimples on his cheeks, it continually meant that he was proud and fond of what she had performed.

The tinkling chimes with a blaring ring and the golden sun rays through the unstained windows awoke her, alarming; today was the most significant day of her life. Two disinteresting hours later, she was dressed in a vintage, pure white, laced long dress along with two red, refined silk gloves. She pinned a net veil onto her hair and held a bouquet of soft, pink roses and bold, white lilies. As she looked in the clear mirror, her father appeared behind her in an outstanding black suit. He held her hand and walked her down the aisle. When she stood beside the man she will soon belong to, her father felt dismal. He desperately wanted to hold her tight and never let go. He desperately wanted to take his beautiful daughter to the park, once again and push her on the swings. He desperately wanted to wish that this day would never arrive. As he paced back to his seat, next to the altar, he started to produce tears, thinking about the joyful moments they had together. She then excitedly treaded to the carriage with her husband by her side, until she looked back. Her relationship with her father then began to hazily grow apart. She morosely hastened towards her father and hugged him while sobbing on his hunched shoulders. He then wrapped his shivering arms around her and spoke to her, thanking her for being such a wonderful daughter. Her beautiful eyes were drenched in tears when she whispered in his ear, "you can let go of me".

Time has crinkled; now his bare, wrinkled hands cannot protect his lovely daughter any longer. He was to accept the bitter fact that his daughter, now, has her own fresh life far beyond his sight that she was willing to go through without her father's reach. Each and every day was a day to question. They now do not feed the petite, yellow ducks in the pond anymore, they now do not talk much as before, changes were happening which made her father feel paralyzed, yet her; she hadn't realised.

Four busy months later, his successful daughter received an abominable phone call from the hospital around the neighborhood. Straightaway, her expensive cell fell on the marble floor, and in a psychopathic phase, she made her way to her sparkling, silver car, and drove as fast as possible until she reached the hospital. Loud, tapping sounds of her heels hastened across the hallway, past the reception, entering through a wooden door, to her father's room.

She held his hand tight like he held her hand when she rode her bicycle. It was extremely depressing for her to see her father lying down, on the bed with wires connected onto his body. Her eyes turned blue, filled with tears of sorrow as she sat there full of hope. He opened his drowsy eyes as she raised her head. She was more than glad that he was now able to function. He held her close and stammered "you can let go of me", she then, unfortunately lost her father a few long seconds later. Her heart was pounding like a ticking bomb, her hands were covered in goose bumps and her eyes staring still, shocked at her father's shut face. It was only then she had realised what a father would do just to protect his unappreciative daughter, to provide her with countless things, to guide her so his angel would be a responsible adult, to stay by her side like a dark shadow, to light her candle of faith when it was extinguished by the wind of disappointment, to help her in certain sad situations and mostly, to make sure she feels happy, all the time.

It was now too late to thank him for everything he had provided her with. It was now too late to bring him back to life. She had only one choice, which was to hope that her father lived, as a king in the world beyond the horizon. She now opened her tearful eyes while lying on the green grass, and for a moment, he was there...

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My (Grumpy, Tyrant) Loving Father

By: Satya Prasad

The year was 1973. We were staying in Hyderabad, Vijayanagar Colony, to be precise. He was very tall - my father - six feet plus and physically fit. He was an avid tennis and hockey player and loved to walk. He drove an Austin of England and loved the English language. For the major part of his life he worked for the British. On a few occasions I tried to walk with him, but I could not keep up to his pace. His strides were so long. He was very particular about physical fitness and I do not recollect a single occasion wherein he succumbed to a cough or fever. There were nine of us; five sons and four daughters. He ran our family the way a General runs the army- very strict, very disciplined. The first quality, most of us discarded and the second, some of us acquired. I still remember how terrified my friends used to be of him. The first question they would ask me over the parapet wall was "Is the tiger at home "?

He had three loves - the first son, the Austin of England and the English language. I once asked my mother "Does he have only three children?" She said "He has eleven. But he does not show love to all of them. That is the way he is. Accept him." I tried but failed. How much I had wanted to sit on his lap. How much I had wanted him to take me for a walk and teach me things. How much I had wanted to hug him. I always had the feeling that the more I wanted to get close to him, the more he would push me away; an impression that was to change later on. Privately, I nicknamed him "Grumpy". I always had the feeling that he was just hovering around - the bread winner.

I remember the routine. After coming back from school, we were given an hour and a half to play. We had to get back by half past five, wash our feet and sit with him. He would then take out the newspaper and ask us to read. After which, he would explain the various meanings of words in different contexts. At the age of fourteen, I knew the difference between 'in spite of' and 'despite'. My best education was outside the school- with my father. He would take out the English Language Primers which the British published to make the natives learn English. Today, I do not know where it is – a priceless heirloom. I suppose all of us realise the importance of things and people, only after we lose them.

Come summer, we used to sleep on the terrace in Hyderabad. My father, who could not sleep with any light on, used to string his dhoti on the clothesline to keep away the moonlight. He would spend the entire night shifting the dhoti to keep away the moonlight, albeit unsuccessfully. I remember, once when I, my younger sister and brother were at home and Father had gone out. It was hot and we decided to run the ceiling fan, which my Father would have disapproved of. Anyway, after an hour or so, we heard the car and switched off the fan. We thought we were clever. He came inside the room and held the regulator. It was warm. He was cleverer than we were. He was also extremely fond of cashew nuts. He used to get tins of them and lock them up in the almirah. Somehow, we always did manage to lay our hands on them. Invariably however, he used to find out and the consequences were disastrous- a smack on the head, for me, my younger sister and my younger brother. We never minded them though.

It was June 1971. I had passed my SSC Board exam and obtained the National Merit Scholarship. He came back with my mother, one day, late in the evening and said "Today, we were Satya's guests". I knew he had taken my mother out for dinner with my scholarship money. I put my arms around him and he gave me a hug. It was my first. I was seventeen. How I wish I had more.

His greatest handicap was the Hindi language, which he had never learnt, being the hardcore Telugu Brahmin he was. However he would come with some uproarious one-liners. He would ask "Erpat kare ki?"(Have the arrangements been made?) and when the car tyre got punctured he would ask "Tyre thuss ho gaye ki?".

Later, I joined the Reserve Bank and led a peripatetic life. He settled down in Trichy with my eldest brother. I got married in Delhi in 1991. He could not make it for the marriage. How much I missed him? I used to visit Chennai for my training programmes at our Staff Training College and I always made it a point to go to Trichy. I knew that his favourite colour was lemon yellow. I said to myself, "why not pick up a T-shirt of that colour for him?" I did, and when I gave it to him, I saw the glow in his eye. To me, that was one of the most beautiful moments of my life.

It was January 1995 when my brother called and told me that our Father was no more. I made the arduous journey from Delhi to Trichy. By the time I and my wife reached he was cremated. I felt cheated. I did not even get the chance to see him. If only...A month later I received a package from Trichy. In it, was his letter to me "The Pleasures of Walking ".What else? He wrote "My dear son, you were as dear to me as the others. Read Rudyard Kipling's poem "If". I did and cried.

A lot of people would say he was a tyrant. A few would say he was a miser.

I would say...

He was my father.

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Watching Me Grow

By: Saurabh Mathur

While I played in the park with other kids,

Running, fighting, falling, getting up and walking

Scoring runs or diving to take that catch,

I knew you were somewhere there, watching

While I studied hard, burnt the midnight oil,

Fighting with sleep, with all my will, and falling!

I knew somebody would pick me up and take me to bed

'Cause I knew you were somewhere there, watching

When I needed to burst out and vent it out

Or just needed that walk where I do all the talking

When I wanted advice, a different view,

I just knew you'd be somewhere there, watching!

When I met with success and wanted to celebrate

When I looked for someone with whom I could sing

Or when I failed, and looked for that healing shoulder,

You were always somewhere there, watching

You've watched me grow up

Become a man that I have become today

I've seen the value of my successes in your eyes

And that's where I would always want it to stay

I don't cry so often, but yes, I do,

With joy, when I know I've made you proud

But when you're shrouded in grief and pain

Is when my heart can't help but cry out loud;

I love you dad, for always being there for me

For helping me know the right from the wrong

When I needed you most, and when I thought I didn't

For making me grow and feel soulfully strong!

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Lessons In Courage With Dad

By: Shajeedha Ameerudeen

Dad had always been pushy. Ever since I was little, he would make me to do things that were frightening, seemingly impossible and border-line crazy to me. I would find myself about to do something I never thought I would do in the wildest of dreams (or nightmares), with one of his pep-talks (which included everything from the You-have-nothing-to-be-afraid-of chant to the I-just-don't-want-you-to-make-the-same-mistakes-as-me voice of concern) ringing in my ears.

My worst experiences were with public speaking. I would be shivering, feeling the tickle of goose bumps erupting on the back of my neck, desperately swallowing saliva and trying to moisten my dry mouth at the same time. I would think of my dad a monster at that time. He was a monster who could not stop talking about courage. My insides would scream, begging him to understand that I was happy not standing out and not pushing my boundaries. But he never heard my silent agony. And even if he did, he ignored it. With a pat on my back, he would send me off to the arena armed with nothing but a microphone, leaving me to gain balance on my wobbling knees while bracing myself for the attack of the hungry unblinking eyes that would follow me. I would close my eyes. "I'm going to break down and make a fool of myself; I just know it. This is the end of me."

Funnily, that end never came. Every occasion I thought that, I was sure of it. I believed with all my heart that I would not be able to make it without making a scene and scarring my self esteem forever. I gave my first speech in front of an audience that did not just include my parents and siblings when I was about eight. I spoke feebly, stammering a little and willing the sweat on my brow to disappear. When I mumbled my "Thank you" and returned to my seat next to Dad, I was devastated. Dad had spent so much time with me, helping me to get the voice modulation and the gestures just right, and I just messed up. I did not deliver. Disappointment crept over me. I looked up at Dad, expecting it to be mirrored on his face too. There wasn't a hint of it. He grinned proudly, and exclaimed "I told you that you'd be great! You were brilliant really! Oh! someone's walking home with a trophy tonight". He just sat there, grinning like a little boy who found the last cookie in the jar. At the wise age of eight, the possibility of Dad's reaction just being an act to cheer me up brushed past my mind, but it was swept away instantly. The sureness that Dad spoke with was worth more to me than any trophy I ever won. I stumbled, but it didn't matter because I managed to finish what I started. I didn't win (I suppose Dad did exaggerate just a little bit), but it didn't matter because I conquered my fears. I showed courage.

Despite moments like these, when I was truly glad that I did something I was uncomfortable with, I largely detested the atrocities my dad made me go through in the name of courage. "What is up with courage anyway? What's the big deal Dad? I don't want people to notice me; I don't need that." I would protest. And every time, like clockwork, he would repeat "Courage is about yourself and yourself only". Easy for him to say! He's not the one who has to stand there every time, drowning in a sea of gnawed on nail fragments. I have to. I didn't understand Dad. I didn't know why he made me do these things instead of just being happy about my grades or my drawings like all other dads. He said "courage", but it was garbage to me. I only went onstage again and again because he made me.

I trudged along, picking up crumbs of confidence with every obstacle I overcame. But then things started to get a little less intense and a bit more fun and Dad didn't have to make me do things anymore. I was a lot more comfortable with myself and it showed in all aspects of my life: I made more friends, interacted with people and contributed more in class. I became popular, and for a child (and adults too, I guess), popularity equated to happiness. I reckoned I would have given in more easily if my dad had said I'd be happy. But no, he always said "courage". I still didn't get why he just kept repeating that word. So I decided to ask him.

I remember the incident like it was yesterday. We were in the kitchen one afternoon. The sunlight was streaming in and the tap was dripping. I was eleven years old then and still believed colour-coding my Foot Loops was an important ritual to follow. Dad walked in for a glass of water and asked me the usual questions about school before sitting down at the table. He reached for some of the yellow Foot Loops (he knew I didn't like them) and popped them in his mouth.

Then I asked simply, "What was the most courageous thing you did Dad?"

At first, he was a bit taken aback. He scrutinized my face with a peculiar expression across his. Slowly, stroking his beard, he asked "Do you know why we came to Qatar?"

I shook my head. We had come to Qatar when I was six, but I had never thought about why we left Sri Lanka.

Hesitantly, he said "When I was in the Navy, I came across some documents that would have exposed fraud committed by a multi-million-dollar company. That money rightly should have gone to government welfare, so I notified a senior official". He twirled his glass of water. "We had to leave Sri Lanka because the people there didn't let us be".

I was silent for a while. Only the steady dripping of the tap could be heard. "Did you know that we'd have to leave?" I inquired.

"I was sure of it". More silence. Drip-drip-drip.

"A multi-million-dollar company..." I continued frowning, "So were you like... a secret agent?"

Dad laughed, looking relieved. "No... no, I wasn't. But you don't need to be anything special to do the right thing"

"But you need courage."

He nodded. "Yeah, sometimes it's tough. And every bit of you will tell you to take the easy path and just do what's convenient. But that's not right." He picked up a couple more of yellow Loops. "You need to be able to believe in yourself and trust yourself to do the right thing."

I didn't grasp the significant impact that talk had on my life until years later. Dad helped me to see that courage doesn't mean that you have to move a mountain; sometimes the smallest things need the most courage. And most of the time, no one else knows that you have overcome an obstacle because it is an internal one, one that you have to face every day.

I see now that the fears that I overcame when I went onstage were nothing compared to what my dad felt when he made me go there. Constantly, he would have been tempted to let it go instead of taking the risk of pushing me too far. He would have had to worry about me not forgiving him if the task got too hard. He would have been afraid of scaring away his little girl so she never spoke to him again. Dad had a lot more to lose than I did during our lessons of courage. But he kept at it because he knew (Dads seem to know everything) that they were important for me.

Dad is the embodiment of courage.

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On A Flooded Day, With My Father

By: Sonita Ann Koshy

It was in 2002, while I was a 5 years old kid. I was studying in UKG standard at Seventh Day Adventurist Higher Secondary School in Kerala State, India. My school is situated on a mountain, where lot of plants and trees are seen everywhere. My teachers were very helpful to make me understand the difficult portions. My friends too were very cooperative which made my school days very happiest ones.

I was enjoying my holidays by playing games and roaming around there and here. It was a rainy season. I was unable to play any games outside the house and hence we were playing only indoor games when there is rain. My mother told me that my father is coming on a one month holiday. He was working at Dubai during that time and was coming on an annual leave. We went to the Trivandrum International Airport to receive him. I sat at one side of the car door to see the outside views. Due to heavy rain, there was a heavy water flow in and around the roads which made our travelling difficult. We saw many planes take-off and landing. It was really a very interesting time there. Finally, he came out of the airport with some heavy bags. I assumed that there may be chocolates and toys in it.

He brought lot of chocolates and toys for me and my brother Santo Jacob Koshy. He brought some new clothes with different designs too from abroad. Myself and brother played snake ladders, ludo and several other games with my father whenever we get free time. We visited many of our relatives during the 30 days vacation time. Also we visited a water theme park at Cochin, wherein we had lot of funny time at the water park. There was lot of funny water games and parks there. We spent the whole day there and had lunch at the park while watching at the beautiful park and its views. We visited an elephant cage at Konni, which is near to our house. There was a very small elephant at that time, which made our visit very interesting. We gave coconut tree leaves and banana leaves to them. My father climbed on to one of the elephant too with the help of the guard there. That elephant shook its body when my father was sitting on its top. My father too was little terrified. But anyway there was nothing to worry as these elephants were well trained and friendly elephants. There were lots of elephants of various sizes from small to big. We spent lot of time there to see all the elephants.

One day, my close friend Jesty was leaving for Mumbai with her parents after her vacation time at Kerala. She was travelling by a train. My father and I went to the railway station to give a farewell to her. It was a very busy and crowded time at the railway station as usual. We travelled with her in the train to the next railway station and thereafter she continued her travel to Mumbai. She is my best friend with whom I used to play every day during the holidays. We used to play many games and visited our nearest paddy fields, rivers, gardens and followed butterfly etc., which was a very memorable time.

When the train left the station, we left from there and came to the nearest bus station in order to come back to our house. He bought a juice and sweets for me. While standing at the bus station, we saw a circus tent, which was announcing their next show. They advertised that there are lots of shows with many animals like lion, elephant, horses, cycle games etc. I was very eager to see the circus. To my happiness, my father took me to the circus tent. He bought a ticket (I think as I was a small kid, entry was free for me). When we entered the circus tent, there was lot of music. We saw so many animal shows. Elephant was sitting on a chair and was playing football. There was a monkey and parrot show too which was very wonderful. I wondered how these animals are trained to do same as the instructor's instruction. It was very interesting and amazing time there. I really enjoyed a lot. Due to the distant travelling from house to the railway station, I was very tired and felt sleeping. While I was sleeping, rain started increasing and they stopped the show. I was fast asleep on my father's shoulder. He told me that there was heavy water flow there. It was flooding in that whole area. He was unable to come out of the tent to the nearest bus station. He asked the guard to hold me and took out his banyan (inner cloth inside the shirt) and put it on my head to protect me from rain and started heading towards the bus station slowly. Some guards in the tent helped him to come out of the tent. There may be some pits around there. Anyway he came out from there safely. When he came to the bus station, luckily he got a bus which was going towards the area near to our house. He was holding me tightly to his chest to protect me from cold too. I was still fast asleep on his shoulders and did not feel any difficulty during my sleeping. When we reached the bus station, he got an auto rickshaw to the house.

When we reached our home, my lovely mother Anitha Koshy, my dearest grandmother Leelu were eagerly waiting for me along with other close relatives. My mother took me from my father's shoulder and dried my head and body with a towel. She gave me a lovely kiss too as usual. By God's grace, we are finally safe at home. I woke up and prayed to God for protecting us. It was still raining throughout the night.

I love my father, caring mother and my friendly little brother.

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My Lovable Father

By: Sony Raheja

My father is an enthusiastic and large hearted person who always has the answers to every question that we - his children ever asked of him.

He was born in Sind (now a part of Pakistan) in the year 1933. His family moved to India some years before India became independent. He gave up studies after high school to give a helping hand to my grandfather in his start up business. He always feels his life would have been different had he completed his education. So he made sure that all his children got good education because he believes that education is the only asset which will help you stand on your feet in any situation. He personally saw this when India became independent and educated members of our Sindhi community who migrated to India during independence were able to restart their lives quickly whereas the not-so educated ones went through a lot of struggle.

My grandfather started the tradition of helping those who were less fortunate – whether human beings, animals or birds. This tradition has been passed on from generation to generation. At our house, feeding crows and pigeons is a daily ritual.

My dad has had a difficult life bringing up 5 children with limited resource. But that has never stopped him in giving his family an enriched life. My parents have taught us that money is not the only means to live a happy and enjoyable life. What also matters is honesty, love, sharing and caring for others. During our childhood vacations, we toured India with our cousins and stayed at dharamshalas (charitable institutions). Whenever we get together, we recall the fun we had on those holidays.

His hardships taught him some valuable lessons that he shared with us. All the money that we all earned was immediately put into investments. So before we could even think of using the money, it was out of the bank account. This was at a time when there were no ATM's and one had to stand in line at the bank to withdraw money. Thus he taught us to save and at the same time built a secure future for each of us. Today we are financially well placed because of the hard work he put in investing our money. We can afford to go with dad on luxurious holidays and we take pride in sharing this joy with him.

My dad has given us everything to the best of his ability. He considers no job too small and does every task no matter how small, with enthusiasm. When we were little, he helped my mother in household jobs and he is a better cook than my mom. His attitude of treating people equally endears one and all to him. He has no malice in his heart and hence does not see it in others too.

He loved my mom very much and had an excellent partner in her who supported him very well. My mother died due to medical negligence. He was totally shattered but even in his sorrow he did not give up. He dedicated all his energies into court cases and won a landmark judgment which allows patients in India to get access to their medical papers. In spite of being a layman he fought a bitter battle to get justice. Unfortunately the court case has not seen the light of the day even after 20 years!

My father lives a much disciplined life. His timings for eating, sleeping etc are fixed. His motto is "Everything should be had in moderation" That's why he is so healthy and active even at 77 years of age. He is so positive and always willing to learn new things. He even did white water rafting on a recent trip last year.

He is a force to reckon with – he is my lovable father.

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..........

If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

............
A Letter to My Dear Father

By: Sravani K.P

Dear Papa,

How can I thank you for the unconditional love that you have for me? Every day with you, creates a very special memories!

Today, when I think of all times that I've had to spend with you, I feel so lucky to have you. As a child, just three years old, when you were working in Surat, I used to feel sad when I watched my friends with their dads. Still, your love for us was so strong that you couldn't stay away for much longer and you came back soon to see Mom, brother and me. I don't remember a single situation when you scolded or beat us. When I felt sad when mom had scolded me, you would remind me that it was because of her love for me. You also told me that parents always scold their kids to guide them onto the right path. You were always correcting us with love. Every day on the way to school you would make me recite slokas and manthras. Even today, when I feel moody I recite those slokas to reduce my sadness.

You are the most hardworking person I have seen. Though you had lost your job, you never misused your time. You took up petty jobs and started your career with just 450 rupees. And today, you continue to work hard to fulfil our wishes. Whether it was a small wish or a big one, you always fulfilled it.

As I grew up, my love and respect for you also grew. When I was learning music during my Intermediate, you would drop and pick me up from my music classes. In times of heat, heavy rain and even the bitter winter, you have always encouraged me to learn music.

You always say that I'm not your daughter but your mom and sometimes you call me AMMA! When I got selected for Infosys, you didn't express your feelings. You just said, 'congrats'. But, when I heard you telling others how proud you were of me, I felt so happy, papa. In everything that I did, your support has always been there. Often you have quoted that "A girl child is the Goddess Laksmi of the house". I'm so proud to be your daughter.

I pray that God will give you good health and peace.

LOVE YOU PAPA,

Your loving daughter,

Sravani K.P

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Our Role Model

By: Sunitha Shyam

To the best father in the whole world...my Hero!

My dad is wonderful – intelligent, kind, trusting, loving, generous, encouraging, devoted, and courageous. A man of principles, he leads by example- our family's role model! I hope we have caught on at least a small percentage of his qualities!

He was young - just 23 years of age, when my parents first had me, their first child. At 28 today, I am not sure if I have the patience and maturity to have a child yet! But, they somehow managed to be great parents even at that young age! As a child, I loved being given baths by him, food tasted extra delicious when it came from his plate...it never mattered that I had already finished lunch/dinner, I would always be ready when he started eating for a few more mouthfuls from him. He always patiently fed me before beginning to eat and I have never seen him impatient, even though I am sure, he was very hungry every time I did that!

Memories I have of him are more of the subtle kind; many of his words have stuck with me and I like to think I always act by them. I hope he feels the same and is proud of whatever my brother and I do.

Two incidents will remain very close to my heart:

Firstly, I had participated in my first college level elections and was a nervous wreck the whole week and more so, during the final days before the results were announced. Finally, after we had the results, I called home excitedly and told my father that I had won! He, in his signature calm voice told me, "We always knew you would win; only you were tensed. Come home soon, we have reserved tickets to go for a movie tonight, to celebrate!" Could I have asked for a father who trusted and had more faith in me; my own father?

Another incident I remember is coming home angry one day after being teased by people in buses who made fun of me as I walked. My father calmly told me to slap any guy I wanted to on the road for any bad behaviour and immediately give him a call and, he would be there in few minutes. This was indeed a unique advice amidst that of other parents who always tell their daughters to keep their heads down and not get into 'unnecessary' trouble! Or worse, blame their daughters for any issues!

His wide knowledge on so many varied subjects including legal document readings, current affairs, and his plain old good common sense made him an advisor of sorts to so many relatives, family friends and neighbours alike. Today I know I can always consult him on anything and we would always come up with a list of pros and cons which would help us decide what to do!

He owns all kinds of tools and takes care of all the repairs in the house by himself; my husband is amazed at his collection and at how handy he is with all work around the house. My father is also a very helpful husband; he can cook, clean and knows exactly how my mother likes things to be done around the house. An ideal man, isn't he?

During the very tiring times when he was fighting cancer, he stayed as brave as possible, of course with my mother's perseverance and optimism. He always walked into the operation theatre bravely and took things as they came. I am very glad and thankful to God for saving his life and giving him back to us. The world needs such good people to remain around for longer!

Thank you for being you Appa. I love you very much.

You are our pillar of strength!

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Outside The Shadow Of My Father

By: Tarek Shamma

At one point (however late) in a man's adult life comes the realization that the spirit of his father has been over him all his life. Some keep on chasing it; others run away from it; some are protected and inspired by it. Others, like Hamlet, do not know what to do with it: they don't know if it is actually there, or if they are imagining it, and what it wants from them; they're alternately inspired and frightened. My own experience has been a combination of all these. Indeed, I have found it to unfold in the form of a progression, which may describe the experience of many men. First, you want to be your father; then, you try to avoid being your father; and, finally, you realize you are your father, and you embrace it.

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First, you breathed meaning into existence. You were the guide amid its puzzles and bewilderments. I came to you for everything, and you had all the answers. It was great to have someone who will support you when you leap into nothing, when you spread your arms and let go. It was the time when everything was in place, when every question had an answer. You held the world in your hands and wrapped it around me like a warm blanket. What is more, your strength, your omniscience did not make you an unfeeling god: I knew you had that soft spot inside. It was not simply that I discovered that you loved me (I knew that already), but I felt it in so many tangible ways.

***  
When was the first time I realized you were not a super man? Perhaps it was a moment of uncertainty (when you did not seem to know completely everything on that trip to the capital), when the motel we stayed at left a little to be desired, when you had to ask around and inquire of other people about things you did not know. We were small-town people trying to find our way in the big city. Perhaps it was when I discovered we were not the richest people around. Perhaps it was a moment of hesitation. When a neighbour quipped that you were too—reticent? Too formal? Too mysterious? Even then, I knew it was well-meaning (it was apparently all right for adults to joke around). But then something didn't sit right, because I knew even then that you were ten times the man he was, and perhaps because you did not return the compliment, but just smiled vaguely, which indicated—I don't know—superiority or embarrassment, or both (perhaps it should have been more on the superior side. Perhaps that would have made me feel better).

When trying to re-place the battery cover on my son's toy a few days ago, I inadvertently aligned it the opposite direction, and he exclaimed: "You made a mistake!" Was that the beginning? I didn't detect any signs of disillusionment afterwards. But I know it's coming one day. It's a little scary, but since it's inevitable (and eventually necessary), isn't better sooner than later? Should I prepare him for it somehow, try to cushion the blow? Will this be the moment of his transition into teenage tribulations? Is this then when you begin to think you can, or you should, do better than your parents? When you start to find something wrong in almost everything about them?

I had the same respect for you as ever— your integrity, your humility, your moral fortitude, your unfaltering sense of fairness, your patriotism, your brave rationalism in the face of rampant superstition, your treating us as full persons, who are entitled to their opinions and judgments, your respect for mother, and women, your searching, inquisitive mind and insistence on rethinking everything, your refusal to submit to dry-and-cut judgments, your subtle sense of humour, your knack for storytelling, your subtle sense of humour. And above all, your genuineness, your refusal to sully your soul with falsehood, your unfailing commitment to the truth, and nothing but the truth.

But I started to notice other things too. I began to realize what you could have been, what you should have been. I started blaming you because, after a long and successful struggle to lift yourself from the difficult circumstances you were born into, you suddenly decided to stop and settle in. I don't know what triggered that. Was it your intended goal all long? Did you have no further ambition? Or did the struggles of the early days finally take their toll and were you simply tired? Whatever the reason, I started to think that things could have been better. We were not poor, but not the richest people around—actually, more on the poorer end (something it took me a long time to grasp). Perhaps I'm also blaming you because you did not ask for more, did not realize how much you deserved (or perhaps you did, but balked at the risk). May be it was also those occasional hesitations—my conviction that, at least in some cases, you should have been more assertive. It's not courage that you lacked: you defied forces and authorities before which other, more assertive, men would grovel. It wasn't weakness of character, not lack of intellectual fibres. It was some kind of self doubt, some lack of social adjustment. I don't know where it came from, and it's probably not my place to ask. Yet, I couldn't help blaming you. But "blame" is not the right word. Perhaps it's my feeling that this could have affected me too, could have somehow influenced my relationships with others. Perhaps it was just selfishness.

But I think what affected me the most was a certain distance. It is not that you were cold or withholding. I remember many delightful discussions, where you treated me like an equal, and a few trips to the park. But there was this reservation deep down, your unwillingness, or inability, to let go. It's not that you did not have emotions; you had a lot of them, but, for some reason, you could not express them, you could not let them out. I saw boys going out with their fathers, fishing, shopping, and watching football matches. What was given for others seemed unthinkable for me. I had resigned myself to this distance, this separation, not knowing there was any better. But when I discovered what I had been missing, that was not the only order of things, that our relationship could be more intimate, I felt bitter and a bit deceived (although it was all so subliminal: I didn't even confess it to myself, so it surfaced only later). I needed a pal, a friend. But you were not there. Was it that hesitation, your advancing age, this recoiling into yourself, your reluctance to grapple with practical matters—to be simple and spontaneous like the people who were not as smart as you are? Once I came across a letter written by some leader, or somebody, to his father, explaining his plans and expressing his feelings. His father, he said, was his long-life confidant and pen pal; he had always guided him and supported him and inspired him. It left a vacant feeling inside me, and I didn't know what to do with it, how to fill it. I could only try to ignore it and distract myself with something else.

You thought, I believe, that you did not have to gush out your feelings, but could convey them—implicitly, but more genuinely—through your actions, as you did. You assumed that everyone else is as rational and level-headed, and good on the inside, as you are. But, as I'm coming gradually to discover, not everything in life can be weighed and explained rationally. Some things just need to be done: you have to do them because they feel right, and you know it, and you don't need to explain it or justify it or think it out. There are things that just need to be said, regardless of how well you may think they're implicitly understood. Sometimes, we just need to take a leap of faith, to act on an impulse.

It was, of course, much better than if you hadn't had this affection (I certainly recognize the difference). Or if you rained us with phony clichés, just because this is what a father should do. When they came, we knew these moments of affection were genuine and sincere, that they came deep from the heart, and we appreciated them even more. But I can't deny that they were few and far between, that they took long times to re-emerge: the spaces in between were sometimes desolate and bleak, and a few words of comfort (I wouldn't have asked for more) would have made a lot of difference. I just wish you were a little closer—that's all. Maybe it was simply the general temperament of your generation, but I have a suspicion that that was not all. There was this same reservation, this locking up, that stopped you at the last moment (except for some sporadic excursions). Where it came from, I do not know. Perhaps it was the way you were raised, perhaps some life experiences, perhaps it was part of you nature. You were not there when I had that "depression" on entering junior high. You must have noticed, but I don't recall you did a thing. You felt it, you knew it, you worried for me, but you refrained, as you often did. You see, this is what bothers me: that you had all these feelings, all that tenderness inside, but you always locked it in: you never let it out except occasionally, when it slipped out, as if by mistake. But I know it wasn't intentional; you just didn't know how to do it. Yes. You just didn't know how to express your feelings.

For a while my view of my future was a negative copy of what you were. For a while I thought all I got was your library, your intellect, your eyes and forehead, and, possibly, a mild OCD. I was determined not to repeat your mistakes, to avoid your failings. I only saw what you were not, what you could not be. I did recognize how much you had achieved; I knew the extent of who you are. But I could only see the gaps in you, and I was determined to fill them up in me, if I ever suspected a vestige of any of them. I was building my character partly to be your opposite. Where you stopped at a certain stage, I was determined to preserve to the end; where you shut yourself from others, I wanted to open up to them. This was my hidden plan for a long while, and it seemed to be working.

***  
Then I had to face real life—alone in a strange country, struggling with moral, professional, and emotional dilemmas. It was only then, slowly and gradually, but ever so steadily, that I started to realize how much you had given me, how valuable all your lessons had been, even when you did not try to hammer them into me. You taught me (I discovered); you inspired me, just by being who you are. You never tried to beat your own dogmas into me. This was pure love. It wasn't need. It wasn't some frustrated insecurity, the attempt to fashion someone in your own image, to produce better clones of yourself to make up for your deficiencies, so they can do for you what you have failed to do yourself—not all that selfish, egotistical, needy self aggrandizement that passes for paternal guidance. It was honest, unadulterated love, from one independent human being to another: no demands, no expectations. It was truthful and candid, like everything you did. Your spirit is intact; you could never keep up any pretence. It wasn't always easy for you, and it did cause you trouble, but you never budged.

As I found myself in those situations where you have nothing to trust but your inner self, when you have to grope for that core at the centre of your being, and lean on it as your only means of support, I knew how much you had taught me. I discovered how right you were, on almost everything. (You noted once, with some frustration, that you were giving the cream of your experience, but that it wasn't always appreciated. This really touched me then, but I knew I had to find my own way, to discover my truths on my own. You knew that too, and you didn't try to push it at any moment. You were just trying to save us time). It was inspiring, though somewhat surprising, to discover how your knowledge and observations and culled wisdom (which you simply demonstrated with example) helped me in foreign places, when you had never set foot outside your small country.

All what I had submerged—out of youthful inexperience, pigheaded defiance, wishful iconoclasm—began to surface. Part of me, a great deal of me, was you, and I was proud of it. Things began to make sense again. You could not, would not, force your beliefs on me: I had to forge my own (you wanted me to do that, even when they deviated, as they often did, from your own). You were not perfect? Well, I wouldn't want to labour under the yoke of glorious perfection, inevitably to discover that it was a pathetic illusion.

Now I could see you for what you are, not for what you should have been. I could see the substance, not the imaginary gaps.

It was only then—after so many years—that it suddenly dawned on me, that all this while I wanted nothing but to get your approval, to make you proud of me. I know what makes you proud: not cowering to petrified dogmas that you passed for supreme truths, while they were your own selfish choice, and not any material acquisitions (though I think I'm less idealistic, or more practical, here. This is one of my improvements), but just being a true man, and, above all, a true human being. I don't know if I got there, but I can at least say I'm doing my best. I hope it makes you proud. You see, I know (though you never said it) what profession, among other things, you secretly wished I would choose (you genuinely thought it was right for me), but you never said it (and maybe I'm just speculating here). But when I did choose my profession, and you knew this was what I wanted, and this is what I was good for, you not only accepted it; you embraced it. I knew you were proud of me then, as you are now.

But there was something more to it. It wasn't only that I wanted you to be proud of me. I wanted to make up for you, to complete what you had started, and (I can't find a better word) to avenge you, to get your revenge on all the things, the circumstances, that wronged you, the people who could not, or did not want, to appreciate you, and for that thing inside of you that held you back, that stopped you from becoming what you could have been. Yes, at one point I realized this is one of the things moving me through life, one of the incentives of my ambition, that I wanted to make up for you, to complete what you had started but could not, for some reason, purse to the end. We are a continuous line, and I needed to finish the work you began—not because you asked me to (you never did), but simply because it deserves to be finished. And so this is how it works: I try to rectify your imperfections in myself (as my son will try to rectify mine in himself), without forgetting the many perfections that I'm grateful for. This, I suppose, is progress.

But I have moved even beyond that—beyond judging you. Can I blame you for whatever imperfections I think you had? Is it because I think they were somehow transmitted to me? That they were thrust upon me at a time when I was helpless? But this is unfair. For how much, how much more, can we demand of our fathers? First we ask them for everything, we want them to be everything. But we come to realize, sooner or later, that they are humans, just like the rest of us. I can't blame you for being a human, especially such a good one. There are certainly much more imperfections that could have been unknowingly thrust upon me. God knows you did your best, and more (you stepped beyond yourself sometimes, just for us). So what right do I have to ask for what was obviously beyond your control and circumstances? We can't help being who we are. Whatever problems you had you could not help them, you did not choose them. You should have probably dealt with them, and you certainly could have.

But, then again, what you could have done is your business, not mine. You did not impose your expectations on me, so why should try to impose mine on you? Strong as the bond that joins us is, each of us, every human being, is somehow, in some deep place, on their own. Gushy fantasies aside, each has to figure it out for themselves, to fight their own fight. I have come to see you, and appreciate you, for who you are, and for what you have given me. But I have also realized that I don't want to be a copy of you, or of anyone else. That is what you would want—for me to be my own person, though a good deal of it comes from you. So, thank you for giving me space, for letting me develop on my own, for allowing me not to live in your shadow, for leaving me something to finish. Do I dare to say I have forgiven you? For what? For not being a God? You never pretended to be one, and for this (for your genuine humanity) the grownup man is deeply thankful.

Now, I can fully appreciate what it takes to be a father, and what a son should be. Now that I liberate myself from that dependence, that bondage that locked both in its grasp, now that we're not only father and son, but two human beings, regarding and admiring each other: gratitude, however deep, is not the same as dependence. Accepting you was also, quite simply, accepting me.

***  
If the word "love" has not popped up so far, I hope you have felt it infused in every word: you cannot separate things from their colours. But I'm going to say it anyway: "I love you dad". I hope my two sons will be as lucky as I have been. I'm trying to give them the same type of apprenticeship—but with some advancements and updates. When they are old enough, I'll take them to a football match.

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My Beloved Father

By: Thangamma Thomas

My name is Thankamma, but my beloved father always addressed me as Thangam, means gold lingua franca. My father's name is Varghese. Six months back my beloved father died at the age of 92 years. My father worked as Head Master in our local school at Tiruvalla, a town in central Kerala-India, before his retirement.

It is impossible for me to forget good things my father did for me as well as for my elder brother and younger sister. He always got us new dresses on all occasions and took care of all our needs liberally. My father was teaching at the same school I studied when I was young. It enabled us to have lunch together every day. If I liked to have something special any day, he ordered it from the nearby restaurant and made sure I enjoyed my meal to my satisfaction. During the lunch break too he used to enquire about subjects we were taught that morning, give me practical advises; so much was his interest in my studies.

He was quiet a great lovable leader at home. Our every morning invariably began with family prayer, all of us sitting together. Soon after that we were to do our daily chores and other activities. One thing to be certain in the list was going through the day's news papers to update our general knowledge and to discuss their headlines later during the break-fast. We had to say grace for our food at each time and no comment of any sort of lapses if anyone felt so.

I was married after my school education. My husband was a central government official working in a distant place. My husband's father was long dead and so my father had the privilege and necessity to guide and support us in all our needs from a father's stand. I remember each and every situation my father had his support and cover on our life lavishly extended, like for purchasing new property, securing our income in profitable securities, raising my children and arranging schooling for them while my husband was away, and what not?

After my father had retired as a Head Master, he continued his associations in every matters of social interests, church related activities, helping the poor, visiting sick people and consoling them, etc. all these without any grumbling of any sort or for any returns. He received a lot of respect from people he interacted with because of his special way of association. In almost all domestic affairs, he had consent of my mother who had great respect for her husband and that helped us to enjoy our life fully as a family.

My mother passed away at the age of 83, leaving my father lonely and helpless to a great degree. He sat in his room alone spending his time reading Bible or such books and news papers without any other companionable person to talk to, most of the time. Gradually his memory began to fade to the extent that he could not properly recognize his own children or grand children, a very pitiable condition, emphatically. But, whenever I go and meet him and remind him our stories and incidents of the past, he seems gathering them somehow, throws a gorgeous smile as if he is enjoying hearing them and comprehends them which make me happy to some level. Such expressions could have been perhaps natural reflections or out of habitual fondness of his erstwhile pleasing nature with which he amused all of us throughout life. Occasionally he sang hymns alone as well as in our company, because they were well inhibited in his mind.

At a later stage in his life, he has cultivated the practice of acting upon like a small child whenever my brother, who looked after him or any one of us, asked him to do some indispensable routines, even a brief walk, without hesitation or a word against. This was because people like him needed advices in everything, even for doing their chores; eating, bathing, whatever, a common setback to people with Amnesia disorder which my father had. When we pay a visit and sit beside him now and then, he used to lift our hands and kiss on them, smiles, and in spite of his reminiscence incapability, he profoundly enquires whether we were happy or not! And, in that he was perfect and it often dampened our eyes.

When I met him last, he ate the chocolate I gave him and bid good bye as if it was in a premonition. But I never thought that would be the last time I meet my father alive. The next thing I heard was of his death.

My husband and I flew in to our native place from Madras where we lived, to pay our last respects and attend the funeral. The site of my frozen father being pulled out from the mortuary cove was very difficult for us to bear. We were told, even on the day he died, he was physically fine that he had his lunch with others at the dining table and even asked his daughter-in-law for a tea slightly before it was tea time, and soon after that he felt tired, lied down on the bed and breathed his last.

I am unable to bear the loss of my father even though it was a natural death at old age. That is what it matters to children; the loss of a loving father forever.

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My Experiences with My Father

By: Yumna Ali Khan

It would probably be five o'clock in the morning, and we'd be able to hear the sounds of traffic outside our window that'd be muffled by the soft fog that winter months brought sometimes to Qatar. The small peninsula was at one time called Qatarat, for that was the Arabic word for "drop" and since Qatar is roughly shaped like a water drop, it was very fitting. But that got shortened to an easier word.

We'd both be sitting in our living-room, with our eyes begging for sleep, but our wills refusing it. I would be in Year Five and alone with my father. Intent on making known all my unique ideas to someone who was very logical, I could not fathom the thought of sleep at a time like this. And so we would talk, until my father himself would seem close to dozing off instantly.

One of these days, we would have yet another discussion, based solely on my not-so-childish ideas, and explained and extended by the currents of millions of neurons in his brain.

He would look at me thoughtfully, as though surprised that I, of all us five children, would have made such a comment. He would open his mouth, then close it, wondering how to best approach the matter. I would smile shyly at his speechlessness. He would smile back; and I'd be able to tell he was smiling by the slight twitch of his moustache and the creases that his soft smile created around his eyes; he was relieved to know that he was, after all, talking to an 11-year-old child.

"Yes, Yumna," he would say. "It is true that humans can see through objects, but-"

"Only to a certain extent," I would say quickly, forever determined to show my intellect and awareness.

His smile would either widen, if it had been there while he replied to me, or it would not be there and I would still be able to tell he was proud of me. Every father is.

"Yes, to a certain extent." And then there would be a pause, waiting to see if I would again burst forth with my explanation. But I wouldn't. Because, he would already know that I knew what he was going to say, and of course because he knew I respected him enough to let him have the pleasure of explaining to me in his turn of the discussion.

"Why to an extent? Because we have two eyes in two different positions on our face, not one eye in one position. Therefore, we see things from two different positions that join together to make it seem as though we are seeing a solid object that obviously cannot be seen through." I would be able to tell how hard he had tried to simplify the science for me. He himself would look away into the distance for a while, at times like these, as if unsatisfied with the simplified result.

"Now, if a person closed one eye and looked only with one, they would see only one side of the object. If you tried the same thing with the other eye closed and the first one open, then you would see the other side of the object and therefore see through the object with your second eye showing what was behind the object that you could not see with your first eye. That, as I am sure you've figured out long ago, is how humans can see through objects...to a certain extent."

I would sit there, nodding to whatever he had said, waving my legs back and forth as they dangled above the floor whenever I sat on the high chair. My father would look at whatever was in front of him, below his knees, usually the table; and habitually crack his knuckles and toes. I would watch him for a few seconds, and then look either at the lines engraved in my own hands, showing the Arabic numbers for 99; or reflect him and look at the table, cracking my own hands and feet joints all the while; or stare at the wall or tube lights that pointedly glared at us for not giving them their rightfully deserved night's rest.

And then I, unable to control my childish thirst for appreciation by an adult, would pipe up another idea unique to me, and we would discuss that too. But since we would have already spent five hours discussing, he would make this one short, and when we were finished, ask me to write down everything we had discussed so that I would remember it. And I would agree.

We would not have a discussion like this for several days, weeks, even months. And I would wait patiently, having cleverly stored some facts unrevealed to my father in my head. He too would wait.

I would remember in Year Ten, the assignment that my Year Six class had been given: to interview our fathers. I would remember rushing to my father at the first chance of him being at home, and interrogate him. I would remember not being sure what I would expect, only that what he would give me would leave me speechless and dumbfounded. I would remember that his answers would be too advanced for my innocent brain to comprehend. And I would always be thirsty to remember the minute details and facts that he provided in his complex answers to the simple questions I had created for him. And then he would laugh, that loud wall-shattering laugh that would force my mother to tell him to shush it and my younger brother and sister to roll about laughing on the floor, clutching their little stomachs as my father would suddenly sneeze unexpectedly and cause me to flinch horribly, as the sneeze would leave my ears scarred for quite a few minutes. And then he would take pity on me, and give ridiculously simple answers that even I would find degrading yet hilarious. But at the end he would always make my work easier for me and give me an answer on the level I required.

I would remember presenting the assignment to my class and feeling elated as my teacher appreciated the effort I had put on creating a single unique question and my father's utterly ridiculous answer that would make the teacher laugh, but leave my classmates blank and untouched by the humour of it.

If my behaviour would displease my father, then he would tell me so, plainly, and with the correct tone depending on the seriousness of my actions. He would always want me to volunteer more inside and outside school and my whole family would support me on my successes and encourage me to strive harder when I received slightly degrading marks.

I would listen, often, when he would speak of the news and history and philosophies with my elder brother and sister and my mother. I would watch, shifting my eyes from their attentive and immersed faces and my emotions of impatience and frustration at not being able to understand what was being said; to watch my younger brother and sister as they played with one of those mega-large soft toys that I had been gifted on my tenth birthday, and I would laugh at them as they trumped about the living-room with the toy hanging pathetically from a stick to which its fore and back legs were tied to, making wild whooping noises as they carried their kill to be cooked and eaten. I would occasionally join in the seniors' discussion with a tiny simplified explanation of what my father had just said. All four would acknowledge it. And I would be grateful enough to leave and play with my younger siblings.

But all of these things would have happened; me and my father would have discussed; we would have discussed until morning; I would have remembered taking his interview; I would have remembered my frustration and my scolding and my happy moments. If only any of these were real.

My father and I share a bond that words cannot explain. I need not reach back into the stores of my memories to find an experience with my father that I can share. For I can make up my own experience, derived from all the details that a young girl noticed growing up with her father, learning his habits, his answers, his humour, even learning to read his emotions that resided beyond his moustache. I create experiences from all of these details and know that they could be real to almost the last detail. He and I do not need to speak to convey, nor illustrate to understand. The blood that flows through our veins, is enough a medium for all that is said and all that is not while we are in each other's presence or even far apart. I do not recount a real experience for that is unnecessary when I have all the substances to make up one. I know what he feels, what he thinks, what he hides from children and what he displays. I believe I know him well. He is my father.

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My Roving Father

By: Zaid Khider

My father aged 56, born on the 21st April 1956 works as a mechanical engineer. His name is Mohammed Yousef Khider. My father lived in London - England, for more than 20 years. He used to work in a car repairing company called 'kwik fit' as a manager. Today he works in Qatar petroleum. Also, his father died when my dad was eight. His mother suffered blindness and could not walk. She died recently. My father now suffers diabetes. My father loves his work and stays there until late. My father also loves gardening and takes care of his plants. He has 4 brothers and 2 sisters. When my dad was young, he used to be friendly and had lots of friends, but sometimes he got into fights when he gets called a bad name by other class mates who were not his friends. My father also has a British passport but his nationality is Iraqi and so has my mother.

My dad is really kind to all my siblings and also really funny. My dad also likes to go to work smartly and dressed nicely. My father is special to me because, he is the one that will be there for me and he will be the one that will worry if I am lost. He also got me all the things that I have right now and I am really happy about that. He also pays for the school for me. If my father did not like me, he would not pay a lot of money for me. My dad was really clever at school and his favourite subjects were math, science and P.E. He loved science because of its practical experiments.

My father did not behave properly and was naughty when he was young. He was given a lot of letters sent home regarding his behaviour at school. When my father was young he loved Lego and he used to build cars and airplanes with it. He was very creative and loved building things. My dad also loved gel and lost all of his hair using gel. He had long hair and kept growing it until it was very long which took about 4 years. He also started university at the age of 18 and was there for 4 years and then started working as an engineer. My father got married at the age of 25 and got married again after his wife died at the age of 39. My father and his siblings were very naughty, together they almost shut the whole of the electricity in Iraq when they were 12 years of age and much more. He likes cooking. His favourite dish is steak. He enjoys travelling and goes all around the world. He is also energetic and loves to work his body by exercise and gardening. His favourite country he has been to is America. He has been to many countries such as: France, Italy, America, Bahrain, China, Japan and other major countries. When my father was a teenager he wanted to work as an architect but as his brothers were going to be mechanical engineers he decided to be the same as his brothers so they can all help each other. His older brother was like the father after his father passed away.

My father lived in Iraq for more than 30 years and while living there bought a big house and now is deciding to sell it. My dad also owns a house in Lebanon and London. When my father lived in London he used to own a company. The company was for fixing cars if they are damaged. My dad also loves smoking. He smokes about 24 cigarettes a day and then coughs a lot. He always gets blood pressure. When my father was young, he used to love playing football. It was his favourite sport and also his favourite hobby. He used to be a goal keeper for an under 13's football team and also was the captain for his performance. He played in many tournaments and became man of the match often.

My dad also changed his name a couple of times but then did not like them, so then changed it to his original name. Sometimes he thinks of changing his name again. My father also loved going to the zoo and the aquarium; he loved animals. His favourite animal was a giraffe. He loved its neck and he also loved the Llama. He wonders how kind they are. His favourite fish was a clown fish. He loved the colours of it. As he loved the film 'Finding Nemo' he loved the fish and he has always wanted to buy one. He also loved dolphins. When he was young he went to Portugal for holiday and swam with dolphins and took many pictures. He also loves dolphins from how calm and friendly they are.

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If you liked the stories in this book, why not treasure them forever by buying a Hard Copy edition available online at https://www.createspace.com/3618100

Perhaps you could gift a copy to your father or to someone else?

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