“Acha” in Malayalam means father. And my Acha… he is everything. I love him more than words could ever express. I love him deeply, endlessly, and unconditionally. Being picked up from work by him still gives me comfort, even at the age of twenty-five. I am aware of my independence. I am capable of driving myself. I can take care of myself. But there's something special and precious about being with your father, knowing that someone so strong and dependable is supporting you and guiding you through life in the most basic yet deep ways.
I will never forget the day I started Standard One. I was terrified. I didn’t know what to expect. I couldn’t even understand the language fully, having grown up speaking English and Tamil. My school was Malay-medium, and all the exams and tests were conducted in Malay. I didn’t understand the language. I didn’t know what to do. But there was my father, standing beside me, whispering, “Don’t worry. Just do your best. Acha is here. Everything will be fine.”
In order for him to observe me from outside, I recall sitting at the window. He guided my shaking hands and silently showed me how to write by pointing out the letters. The teacher saw and informed him that I had to do it on my own and that he couldn't help. I recall crying, losing all sense of direction, and breaking down. Even so, I thought, “He's here,” as I looked at him. I am capable of doing this. He's with me. I learned a lesson from that experience that I will never forget: having your father by your side makes it easier to overcome fear.
He has been my best friend, my rock, and my haven throughout my life. He listens with all of his heart, not just courteously. He is, in my opinion, the best listener I have ever encountered. He comprehends what is being said, not just hearing it. He constantly pushes me toward endurance, patience, and prayer in ways that are both compassionate and firm. He taught me to approach life with humility and responsibility and to make time for the things that are important.
He has been there, steadfast and unflinching, even when life has been harsh, whether I have experienced rejection or heartache. I can recall my first significant heartbreak. I was naïve, young, and severely wounded. It seemed like nothing would ever feel normal again, and the world felt unfair and heavy. I went out with my dad. I loved the small things he got me. He patiently opened my eyes to the wider vision with his words. "This occurs," he stated. It's alright. It's a reality of life. You'll get stronger. You remain who you are. More than anything else, such straightforward yet insightful comments helped me heal.
Even when I was struggling, he was always my biggest supporter and secretly pleased with me. I recall how Dad hailed my accomplishments as if they were enormous, even though they could have appeared insignificant to others. He shares my development and accomplishments with everyone, including friends, family, and even strangers. Even the little things, like my work, my academics, and my little victories, make him smile with pride. It is a gift, that pride. It serves as a reminder that someone has such faith in you that carrying the world jointly makes it appear lighter.
I learned the importance of making sacrifices from my father. He has contributed a great deal, sometimes in silence, without protest, and without acknowledgment. He puts in a lot of effort to make sure our family has all they need. He still takes care of us at the age of sixty in ways that are insignificant to the outside world but enormous to us. He makes sure we eat breakfast every morning before heading out to work or school. Every action he takes, no matter how minor, is weighed down by love, commitment, and duty. I can see his sacrifices more clearly today than ever before; they are incalculable and irreplaceable.
His strength is what I admire most about him. He doesn't gripe. We are not burdened by his suffering. He shields us from the harshness of life by bearing any difficulties he encounters in a peaceful manner and displaying love and joy. I've seen him handle challenges with poise and never let the burden of responsibility overcome him. As a result, I've learned to value his contributions, respect him, and never take his presence for granted.
He has been a mentor without being controlling, even when it comes to my personal decisions. When necessary, he is rigorous, but he also understands when to compromise and when enjoyment must come first. I recall handling a significant relationship while in love. When someone treats him disrespectfully, I can't stand it. I don't see how anyone could minimize the worth of a man who has given everything, made all the sacrifices, and received nothing in return. He's my dad. My guardian. My instructor. My mentor. He is a guy of unwavering love, profound insight, and quiet yet great courage. Because of him, the foundation he laid, the lessons he taught, and the sacrifices he made, I am who I am today.
There are moments when I regret not being able to reciprocate to him with everything he deserves. In order to appreciate his sacrifices, love, and steadfast support, I want to do something very significant for him. However, I am aware that a life dedicated to raising his children will never be totally compensated for by even the slightest act of gratitude or recognition. I can only make him proud in meaningful ways, live a good life, and work to be the best version of myself.
I've learned from my father what it is to love unconditionally, to work without complaining, to lead without dominating, and to care without seeking praise. He has been the silent driving force behind all achievements, joyous occasions, and life lessons. I've learned compassion, patience, and resiliency from him. He has taught me the importance of family, commitment, and unwavering love.
I now see a lifetime of sacrifices, advice, and unwavering love as I think back on all these years. I see a man who has been our best friend, our defender, our guide, and someone who has protected us from harm while bearing the burden of responsibility with dignity. Even at the age of sixty, he still gives. He still loves. He is still a teacher.
I want to express my gratitude to my father, my Acha. I appreciate every lesson, every sacrifice, every embrace, and every piece of guidance you have given me. I appreciate you teaching me the meaning of love, compassion, and strength. I am grateful that you supported me when I was afraid, helped me get back up after I fell, and had faith in me when I doubted myself. I appreciate you being the greatest father I could hope for.
I swear to live a life worthy of your sacrifices, even if I may never be able to completely repay you. I pledge to uphold your teachings, embody your principles, and make you proud at every turn. I've been formed by your affection. Your advice has made me stronger. Your selflessness has inspired me. I will always love you, and I will never forget any of it. You are my hero, my anchor, and my Acha. And I am incredibly thankful for that.
I like to finish this up with a poem
Father, daddy, Acha
A name I’ll never forget,
The one who lifted me up,
The one whose love I’ll always cherish.
You’ve been my guide, my constant,
Motivating me through every fear,
Always there when I stumbled,
Always saying, “I am here.”
From my first uncertain steps,
To the 25-year-old adult I am today,
You’ve respected my every choice.
And bravely led the way.
You made my dreams your mission.
Never once saying no,
Fighting battles silently,
So my life could bloom and grow.
No words, no “thank you” spoken,
Could ever show the weight of my heart,
But still I say it now, with love:
Thank you, Daddy, for everything.
I LOVE YOU ALWAYS….
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