This painting is not actually a part of my memory.
Its more like what i would like my memory to be.
I don’t have much to remember as baba spent most of his life abroad for his job.
His coming for holidays were a celebration at home.
And his leaving was heartbreaking.
But we were aware of his presence every moment.
When maa was doing everything to look after us, protecting us, educating us..
Making us what we are now,
Baba spent years alone,working hard to earn money for us,so that we never faced any trouble.
Its not about who is doing what,when and how.
Its all about how precious the relationship is.
I remember the letters baba wrote me,he drew little things at the end of each letter,may be i got that from baba.
This painting is a part of my imagination.
How i feel we could have been!
Its just he can’t carry me like this now!😅 A father daughter relationship is special.and it needs no extra beautification.

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