There are those wispy winter evenings or sultry summer evenings in our wide courtyard, I and my brother used to wait eagerly for Deuta(Dad) to come back from work and bring something for us to eat. Piping hot samosas to aromatic dry fruit ladoos from the local joints. After years of moving to the USA, when I visit my parents, Deuta eagerly waits at the airport with the happiness of meeting me in teary eyes looking at my face steadily and lovingly. All these 18 years, I often and always talked to him but never had the urge to wish him father's day. Probably in our generation, growing up in India celebrating father's day was not a norm, though my two children here in the USA celebrate father's day with so much zeal with their wonderful dad. Deuta was always there in my failure in my success in my happiness and my sadness. It has been almost six months since losing him, life has suddenly felt barren and empty. Though I tried getting back to the normalcy of