Gratitude to My Father – Who Turned Limitations into Duty

He was not the father who hugged me. Not the father who softened his voice. Not the father who said, “I love you.”

But he was the one who stood like a pillar. And in his own way, he shaped the fire inside me.

He did not carry warmth in his words – but he carried structure in his silence. He was the mountain I pushed against… so I could become a mountain myself.

He stood tall. Sometimes too tall. Stern. Focused. Exactly.

He didn’t ask, “How do you feel?” He asked, “Did you finish your duty?”
And through that constant call to responsibility, I learned:

“Love isn’t always a feeling. Sometimes it’s a frame. Sometimes it’s a structure that keeps you from falling.”

He Carried Duty… Without Complaining

He couldn’t see clearly in daylight, yet he taught me how to see life with clarity.

He didn’t have wealth to give, but he gave the foundation – language, letters, numbers, and character.

He gave me discipline – not to restrict me, but to shape me.
And even when my path didn’t match his vision, he never denied my direction.

He worked alone, carried my family when my mother couldn’t. He did more than his body could hold.

He did not have riches, but he had a routine. And from that routine, I learned sacred rhythm.

His Voice Was Regulation

Every day, he asked me: Did you eat? Did you study? Did you take your tablet? Did you go to temple?

Not to control me – but to install a rhythm of responsibility.

He didn’t raise me to chase applause. He raised me to chase a purpose.

He didn’t speak like a philosopher. But every command was a silent lesson in willpower.

He Was Devoted – Inwardly and Outwardly

He was a temple worker, a devotee, a man who held spirituality not as a title, but as a routine.

He never called himself a teacher. But he taught me how to walk with posture.

He never asked for recognition. But his structure became my internal compass.

He was not affectionate. But he was always present.

When I rebelled, he didn’t collapse. When I shifted paths, he didn’t punish me.
He just stood. Still. Watching. Silent.

“He didn’t silence me to suppress me. He silenced me so I could grow louder within.”

He Didn’t Understand My Path – But He Never Abandoned Me

He wanted me to become something recognized by society. Something formal. Something certified.

But I walked a different way. A quieter way. A deeper way.

Even if he didn’t understand my decisions, he remained the ground I walked on.

He believed in results. I believed in rhythm.

Yet still… I know everything I now carry came through him. Through his structure. Through his stubborn protection.

He taught me not how to dream – but how to execute.

Not how to celebrate – but how to show up.

He was the first form of alignment I met.

Before He Left, I Gave Him My Word

I told him: I will fulfill my duty. Even if it takes time. Even if it takes everything.

I will carry your name with purpose. Your generation’s essence. Your silent strength.

I will do my work – not for the spotlight, but for soullight.

And though he is gone now, I believe he is watching.

Not waiting to be impressed… but witnessing me stand.

Thank you, Appa.

You were not a perfect man. But you gave more than you had.

You shaped me – not with softness, but with sacred pressure.

I carry your discipline in my spine. I carry your rhythm in my breath.

And everything I build… stands because you held.