My Father’s Chats Are Helping Me Survive the Pandemic

Dad jokes, witty responses, and a lot of love

It is Father’s Day in Nepal today.

I am thinking of rows of women in red saris, baskets dangling from their hands. The baskets and bags overflow with fruits, sweets, and gifts, as the women excitedly head home to meet their fathers.

We are not a family that is particularly big on celebrations. But on this day I would definitely have visited Buwa, and chatted with him until he shooed me away to get back to his beloved books. For my father, who grew up with an unquenchable thirst for erudition, words on paper are more important than words in conversations.

Four years ago, we knew Buwa would be all right when he picked up a novel immediately after his surgery.

Thousands of kilometers away from Buwa, I look through his photos on my laptop. Sixteen months since I have seen that dear face in front of me.

In March last year, when I told Buwa about my assignment in the United States, he said, softly, “It will be lonesome, and difficult.”

I thought he meant it would be lonely for him, but no — he was thinking of me.

Even today, he asks me, how are you doing, nanee? Do you have enough money, do you have good food to eat? What are you reading, are you practicing your writing? When are you going to publish a book? Isn’t it time to head back?