my father was a quiet, brave and humble person. somehow i feel that i have inherited these personality traits from him. he died in 1992. standing at approximately five feet half a dozen inches, he seemed like a big person. in sure-enough(prenominal) life, he was a shy and namby-pamby guy. like many a(prenominal) an(prenominal) of his countrymen, he had an oval spunk with sharp features. his eyes taper deep in the brass instrument were healthy and bright. his reddish face was covered with a well-trimmed beard. his well- kept thick moustache completedhis flick of a typical sikh with a nicely attired turban on his head. i will never end the turban incident that happened years ago. i have bury all the chit-chat we had, simply the bedtime stories are still vivid in my mind. rustum and shobrah, sakuntala, heer-ranjah, dara singh, subhan chandra bose, mahatma gandhi, mohamad ali jinnah and many new(prenominal) heroes were first introduced to me in these story sessions. at that time, the idea of reality or fantasy had no center field on my concentration. what i wanted was a story, an adventure told in an elaborate office and laboriously. that he provided superbly until someone kept placing his right alternate in his mouth. my elder associate had the manipulation of doing that. instead of drink his thumb himself, he would expertly short letter it in my fathers mouth. my foster son, kevin does the same thing today. some of the other things that i memorialize are not so oftentimes of his words but his deeds. the constant rides to educate, every school day, every morning and every evening. he would take my elder brother to school in the morning and then continue with his day-to-day duties. in the afternoon, he would take me to school and on his way home, fetch my brother. in the evenings, he would take my brother to school for some surplus mural activities. late in the evenings, he would take both of us back home. we would sit int imately on the iant postman at the back of ! his bicycle. a fewer years later, my jr. brother joinde us. he would sit on the front flat bar of the bicycle....If you want to get a full essay, rewrite it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com
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