This is personal, almost as if a diary entry. I was feeling emotional. It is also quite long, bear with me.

I can’t help but wonder if everyone has these relationships that they are born into and thus have a predetermined way of acting in but somehow the relationship has developed into something deeper and you don’t know if the limitations of the norms and expectations will allow you the space to act the way you wish to in them. Am I making sense?

Not to jinx it but I have an amazing relationship with my father. He was not as present as I would have liked him to be when I was younger but he was there for all important events; annual concert performances, vaccine days, birthdays, first pms, all of it.
And irrespective of his physical presence, he was always emotionally present. He was a friend before a disciplinarian, a fantastic teacher and my most trusted confidant. I am a 20-year-old girl living abroad and still, he was the one I wanted to have my first drink at midnight with on my birthday. You get it right, that man is my best friend.

So don’t be surprised when I tell you I have seldom had any other father figures in my life which is absolutely weird because I grew up in a house with both my father’s brothers. They were active participants in my childhood and often played the role of a dad but I guess there just wasn’t any space for a father figure in my life.

I was closer to my younger uncle, considering he had the latest touch-screen mobile with Shakira’s songs downloaded, lol. He was talkative and interested in what I did at school every day.
My elder uncle, on the other hand, was the silent one. He barely ever spoke, not just to me but actually to anyone at home. He was quiet and gentle and kind and serious. He was always in the background, observing the chaos, ready to step in only when things got out of hand.

The very first memory of him in my head is from when I was a baby and I would play with his cute paunch. We didn’t really spend much time together, him and I. I was closer, actually obsessed with his wife, my sweet Margi kiya. I was always in his room, getting my nails painted, hair combed, and make-believe facials done and though I remember him being there, he would just laugh at my drama.
I loved him then. He is family, you always love your family.

And then life happened. I grew up and even more distant. But one unfortunate day, Kiya left us. Their son, my brother wasn’t here. So naturally, I tried to fill his void. I had to, no? You’re family, you do what is needed for the family. I remember sitting next to him on the hospital stairs as everyone else looked at us from a distance. I could almost feel his pain, I guess that is what happens when someone you love is hurting. He is my uncle, of course, I loved him.

I became so busy trying to hold together my family that I barely processed my emotions until one evening when they put her picture up on the wall. I was eating dinner, I could not even swallow the bite in my mouth, I broke down. Everyone tried consoling me; mom, dad, and my cousins. I just couldn’t stop. It all got too real suddenly. It wasn’t until when he walked up to me, put his hand on my head and said it was going to be okay.
I knew I wasn’t okay, but neither was he and still he found the courage and love in his heart to come console me. I loved him a little more that day.

We got very close in those months of grief and healing. He would make tea for everyone the way I liked it and buy my favourite snacks for his house. We would call each other and cry randomly, talk about my aunt and how she did things as if it was her world we were all just living in it. And when I told him I was moving away for a 6-month internship, he got mad and very upset. I could hear it in his voice on call but he still pretended to be happy for me and so so proud of me.

And now that I am oceans away from home, he texts and calls. Asks me if I am eating well and if the weather is bearable. He tells me how he bought a new shirt and got the sofas at his house cleaned. I tell him about this guy who makes great tea and this professor who is very annoying. We talk about so much in our 5 minutes catch-up calls, I say everything except what I really wish to-

I love you. Not just because you are family, not because you are my uncle and you have seen me grow up, not because it is expected of me.
I love you because you are a wonderful human and I love spending time with you and I worry about you and I want all the happiness in the world for you.

I want to say I love you but I wonder if you would say it back
I wonder if you know how much you mean to me
I wonder if you feel the same way about me
I wonder if the traditional boundaries of the relationship of uncle and niece will ever allow you to

But either way, I love you kaku and I wish to make you proud just as much as I wish to make dad proud.

I guess there was space for a father figure in my life after all.