I saw a little bit of him in each of the faces. He had this oval face, always lively, not smiling so often. But almost in a meditative state, and sometimes worrying, sometimes just neutral. And as he aged ( his hair was still black by the way, just a little additional detail ), his face had become thinner, making his face more towards a symmetrical eclipse. He was not that tall, had become thinner, and was always troubled by the worry of one or the other. If you would go, check on him if he had his dinner, the most probable answer would be an inquiry, so have you eaten kiddo? His face had wrinkles, owing to the age, and to this fretting about the well being of each one of us. It looked tired, concerned, yet focussed and beautiful. His beard was white, and his face looked fuller, and brighter along with it. Unusual energy, light, calm, and peace, would have been your first thought if you ever saw him drinking his raabdi or chai. He loved his chai and loved us all.

And yesterday, I saw him, in each one of the faces on my father, my brothers and my uncles. They had all shaved their heads, as per the rituals after the demise of a person in a family. And this made their faces close to ovals, like Baba’s face was. And worrying, grief over the days, had worn down the faces, and I felt in each of them, he was still alive.

I realized, over the years, in each of our actions, the way he taught us to live, is reflected. He raised us all with love. I am proud of the humans I have got in my family. And I know the care, the love, they show for me, for everyone else, is deeply rooted in the way Baba raised them. My father is awesome, but while growing up his mischiefs knew no bounds. He was then living in Samod, the village he was born. Samod had got a lot of bageeche. He would sneak out at midnight to go and steal fruits, or sometimes to go and watch Ram Leela. And Baba would have to go out and watch for him, in case he realized my father was out. Then Baba would make him come home, and my father would be all sad after getting some mild chiding, and say I won’t eat dinner for today and sleep. Maa Baba knew well enough their kid, and would leave extra bread and food around the kitchen, corner easily accessible. And every morning the bread would have been eaten by someone ( hint of course by my father ). Baba hated fights, his policy was if someone needs it more, they can have it. As Maa says, “zameena se matlab kone, minaka se ch” ( lands, property don’t matter, being alive, having you all kids, who grow up and become better humans is all that matters). When one of our houses was getting built, he supervised the entire construction. No one was allowed because there were some chances of a dispute with neighbors. None of his kids were allowed near the construction, lest they might provoke a fight.

And we all get it from him, from loving chai to skipping meals, to working hard, to not liking to fight with people, to loving people, he taught us all. It is so inherent, now my father finds it too difficult to ever scold me, he was not taught how to. We are all allowed to make our mistakes, and learn from them. Like Baba allowed his sons to follow their hearts, doing whatever they liked, we all kids are allowed to craft our paths. And this takes a lot of courage, to allow a kid, allow them to follow their heart. Baba did it for his kids, and his kids are now doing that for us.

It was never about how well off you are, and you have to be, it was always about preserving this inherent goodness and kindness, which Baba asked us to keep always.