As you would have noted in my earlier blogs about my father, he was an intelligent, calm, empathetic and compassionate individual. An eternal optimist, he always saw the glass as half full. Growing up, I believed that I was his favourite daughter as I could get away with murder when he was in the picture.

When Ravi and I decided to get married, I knew my parents would have issues accepting the match due to the difference in our castes. Given that I had always managed to get Papa on my side, I believed that I would eventually win him over and then my mother would follow.

I was in for a big surprise — not only did he not come around, he continued to hold his stand till he passed away.

Given how close we were, this continues to be a cause of deep regret for me.

Nearly 20 years after he passed away, I felt the need to find a way to bring some logical closure to this issue.

In early 2025, while I was reflecting on this matter, a thought occurred to me — perhaps the answer to why he behaved the way he did lay in his roots. I decided that I should visit his village, see our ancestral home, meet our family there and hopefully, decode Papa’s behaviour.

On his birth anniversary, March 17^th’25, I went to the village where he was born. It is a small village of about 3000 people in UP, close to Kanpur.

He came from a family of wealthy landowners and was part of the first generation to pursue higher education and move out. He had lived there until he finished primary school, but he continued to visit the village every year.

This was my first visit to the village and I wasn’t sure what to expect. But what I saw as we travelled there took my breath away. There were lush green wheat fields stretching as far as the eye could see. Clearly, the region was fertile and prosperous.

Then we reached the village and I caught my first glimpse of our ancestral home with its four annexes. Papa was born in one of them. The main building was over 250 years old, built by my great grandfather’s father. At the time the foundation was laid, a temple was also built in the compound and it continues to be a practicing temple even today.

I met several family members who knew me simply as Papa’s daughter. Even though we had never met before, they welcomed me warmly into their homes. I spent several hours with them and heard many stories about the things Papa had done for them over the years.

As we stepped out to see the main building, a distinguished Muslim gentleman approached me. He too had received help from Papa. He walked us through the main building and regaled us with stories of its past grandeur.

On our way back, I found myself quietly mulling over the day. What I had learned about Papa merely reinforced the strength of the man I already knew. And yet, I still felt that I had not fully found the answer to why he had taken such a firm stand on my marriage.

But somewhere during that visit, a realisation had begun to take shape.

The trip had given me a glimpse of his roots — how family values that had been shaped over centuries were deeply ingrained in him. Evidently, these formed an important part of his identity as a staunch Brahmin.

I guess there was a side to him that I never saw — like the dark side of the moon. I had only seen the part that glowed, the part visible to me. But there was more to him than that.

Perhaps the answer simply lay in accepting that he was a phenomenal father, and that he had his own reasons for taking the stand that he did.

I realised that I needed to let it be and not judge him on this count. Perhaps understanding someone does not always mean agreeing with them. Sometimes it simply means accepting that their truth was shaped by a world very different from our own.

And in learning to accept that, I feel I have finally made peace with Papa.