The Good The Bad and The Ugly.
That was the first movie that I went for. Baba took me to New Empire for an evening show.
New Empire reeked of heritage, cinema and booze. It was only ice cream that I could smell the first time though. My first ever mint flavoured scoop!
I’m not sure why Baba took me for THAT particular movie. It was the kind that a thirty something year old would watch with his friends and not his five year old son. He probably wanted to make friends with me like in one of his favourite movies. I’m not entirely sure. Which reminds me I don’t even know what his favourite movie was.
I was never really friends with Baba. No major heart to heart bonding, no late night adda, no listlessly shared silence.
He was my hero, till sometime. Strongly built, heavily moustached and a fluent speaker of English, he was everything that I was not ( I do realise while I write this that I wasn’t meant to be any of that in the first place, I was only six years old).
We drifted away, with time, for myriad reasons. Strong reasons. Some made of reason, some made in the mind.
I am writing this down without purpose.
Or probably because Baba is no more.
He passed away a couple of months back, quite alone and cold. I wasn’t around. I had left the city some years back.
He had sent me a friend request which I had never responded to because, you know, who wants to let parents in on your private social network?
I’d never discussed it with him. Never asked him whether he was extending an olive branch. Whether he was trying to be friends like he did, halfheartedly, some twenty five years ago.
The request still shows in my request list on facebook. I don’t know whether to delete it or to just let it be.