A WHISTLE ON THE LIPS.

I remember fondly, the small blue round box with a cake of hard white soap firmly encrusted inside it. It was an ubiquitous part of the middle class houses.The shaving soap was symbolic of the struggle of our yester year lives. Times would change but the box would occupy a permanent place in our lives.

I remember my dad using a brush vigorously to work up a lather and apply it on his day old stubble. We used to call him old man Santa Claus and giggle. At times, he would playfully dab his soapy brush on our cherubic faces and we would spend time looking in the mirror wondering when we would grow up to be big like him and shave in front of the mirror. It was a matter of pride.

I do not recollect a single day when we saw our dad with a stubble. He was a clean shaven man and always took utmost care of his appearance. After the shave, he would splash his face with cologne. He would often whistle old songs with pursed lips while shaving. We would dance to his melodious tunes. We were his die hard fans.

Last year in September, I saw my dad for the very first time in a stubble.He was in the ICU and simply refused the incessantly pleading barber. He used to joke that the ICU is shaving off his wallet. One day, Chaitra and Prithvy came to see him and Chaitra reprimanded him for the beard, she said that she would kiss him on the cheeks as soon as he shaved. Prithvy failed to recognise him with the stubble. The very next hour, he was back to his clean shaven self. Children are miraculous in their convincing powers.

A few days passed and he lapsed into a comatose state never to wake up again.

We lost hopes and our prayers failed us. I lost faith in God. I had a premonition about his death.

On his last day, I called the barber and asked him to shave my dad's stubble.

I wanted my dad to meet his creator the way he would have wanted to.

Radiant smiling face, spic and span, with a merry song whistling on his lips.

The small blue round box and his razor blades lie untouched.

A faint whistle echoes in my now empty house.