My unexpected father: How my Khalu became more than an uncle

Photo: Courtesy

As I scroll through my social media feeds on Father's Day, I'm met with a sea of heartfelt tributes to dads. Friends share stories of guidance, love, and support, recounting the significant influence their fathers have had on their lives. But for me, Father's Day has always been a bittersweet reminder of an absence. 

It's one of the nights in the year when I have trouble sleeping. Losing my father at the age of eight left me too young to fully grasp what it meant to have a father, to feel his influence and presence.

But life has a way of surprising us. 

When my mother decided we would move to the apartment above Moon Auntie's, my maternal aunt, everything changed. Her husband, my 'Khalu,' entered my life just when I needed a father figure the most. Despite his demanding role as a top government official, he always made time for us, filling a void I hadn't fully acknowledged.

One of my fondest memories is of the little journeys we used to take from time to time during holidays. On one such trip, I experienced traveling by plane, train, and ship for the very first time! 

The thrill of each new mode of transportation was exhilarating – the rush of takeoff, the rhythmic clatter of train tracks, the scenic car drives, and the majestic expanse of the ocean from the ship's deck. 

As we explored new places together, I felt a sense of freedom and joy that I had never experienced before. However, my Khalu was not one to coddle or spoil. 

During my teenage years, I was often more trouble than triumph. I struggled academically through sixth and seventh grade, fixated on a foolish dream of becoming a football player despite my dismal grades. 

One day, after receiving yet another poor report card, Khalu looked at me with a blend of humour and wisdom and said, "Back in our day, we called them progress reports, but yours looks like a regress report!" His words, though humorous, carried a weight that made me reflect deeply even as I laughed.

I still laugh when I think about the time I was obsessed with getting a pair of expensive Adidas signature series Lionel Messi boots. I was convinced that wearing them would somehow magically grant me Messi-like skills on the football field. I nagged Khalu relentlessly, believing those shoes were essential. 

His response was a lesson in priorities: "Focus on getting branded grades before chasing after branded shoes!" Even though I can afford those pricey football boots now, his words echo in my mind, guiding my choices and reminding me of what truly matters. Yet, when I was made captain of my school's football team, he was the first to buy me a pair of football boots.

When Covid-19 hit, the pandemic brought a new chapter in our relationship. As the world moved online, I became his assistant, setting up Zoom meetings and helping him with his presentations. These tasks, though simple, gave me a glimpse into his world. 

During one Zoom meeting, I listened to him discuss the importance of access to justice for marginalised communities in Bangladesh, and how the lack of transparency in the legal system perpetuates inequality. Witnessing him navigate these complex topics with clarity and compassion was transformative. I remember watching him speak with such passion and conviction, feeling a sense of pride and admiration. 

Those hours spent listening to him discuss law, politics, and ethics were enlightening. He often emphasised that justice isn't just about the letter of the law but about its spirit—ensuring equality and fairness for all. I was struck by his dedication to understanding the human impact of policies and decisions. 

He taught me that life's challenges often exist in the gray areas, where right and wrong are not always clear-cut. His unwavering commitment to justice and equality inspired me to think more deeply about the world and my place in it. I began to see the power of empathy and understanding in creating positive change, realising that even small actions can have a transformative effect when guided by a commitment to justice and compassion.

Beyond academics, Khalu imparted invaluable life lessons. He taught me the importance of integrity, kindness, and the beauty of small joys. I remember how he would often take us to events where he was invited to speak, passionately advocating for others' rights. Watching him in action was inspiring, and his impact on students, colleagues, and the common people was profound. 

This very inspiration even led me to apply to my university's law programme despite my background in mathematics and sciences in high school. Although I am studying engineering now, he taught me that each of us can contribute meaningfully in our own way, and that is enough.

As I reflect on my own experiences, I'm reminded of the significant impact my Khalu has on my life. When friends express their desire to be like their dads, I understand deeply. I've seen how they look up to their fathers, aspiring to emulate their strengths and values.

 I often tell my friends that if I could be even ten percent of who my Khalu is, my life would be well-lived. He has set a high standard, one that I strive to meet every day. His wisdom, patience, and love have left a lasting impression on my life, guiding me toward the person I am today.

Father's Day can be bittersweet without one, but having someone as amazing as my Khalu more than fills that space. His guidance and kindness have greatly influenced my journey. The things he did for me, even when he wasn't required to, have shaped who I am today. For that, I am forever grateful.