my father

my father was a quiet, brave and humble person. somehow i feel that i have inherited these personality traits from him. he died in 1992. standing at approximately five feet hexad inches, he seemed like a big person. in actual life, he was a shy and namby-pamby guy. like galore(postnominal) an(prenominal) of his countrymen, he had an oval spunk with sharp features. his eyes set deep in the boldness were healthy and bright. his reddish face was covered with a well-trimmed beard. his well- kept thick moustache completedhis vulnerability of a typical sikh with a nicely polish turban on his head. i will never obstruct the turban incident that happened years ago. i have bury all the chit-chat we had, simply the bedtime stories are still vivid in my mind. rustum and shobrah, sakuntala, heer-ranjah, dara singh, subhan chandra bose, mahatma gandhi, mohamad ali jinnah and many opposite heroes were first introduced to me in these story sessions. at that time, the idea of re ality or fantasy had no core on my concentration. what i wanted was a story, an adventure told in an elaborate authority and laboriously. that he provided superbly until someone kept placing his right alternate in his mouth. my elder buddy had the clothe of doing that. instead of drink his thumb himself, he would expertly grade it in my fathers mouth. my foster son, kevin does the same thing today.

some of the other things that i memorialize are not so such(prenominal) of his words but his deeds. the constant rides to indoctrinate, every school day, every morning and every evening. he would take my el der brother to school in the morning and the! n continue with his daily duties. in the afternoon, he would take me to school and on his way home, fetch my brother. in the evenings, he would take my brother to school for some surplus mural activities. late in the evenings, he would take both of us back home. we would sit comfortably on the iant postman at the back of his bicycle. a a few(prenominal) years later, my jr. brother joinde us. he would sit on the front flat bar of the bicycle....If you want to get a full essay, rewrite it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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