At first my fingers were awkward. They fumbled carelessly and sloppily like uncooked French fries. As a child of three I first dipped my fingers into the endless ocean of expression and allowed my hands to grow a voice and this is how I started interacting and learning from my idol.
             As a child I always admired him for his adroitness and would with utmost curiosity try to figure out that even when God had gifted me and him with the same number of fingers, how come he could always solve the mathematics problems faster than me.
             A person who adhered to a strict schedule and at the same time was very comfortable with it. He would get up at five, go for his morning walks, come back have his morning tea and then for about half an hour he would associate himself with all the aspects of the outer world. Once the last page of newspaper was read, then with a gratified look he would get up and carry on with his daily chores.
             Though at that age I rated myself, as an excellent actress he could always make out that with closed eyes his daughter was wide awake. Then in the form of a morning fairytale he updated me about the happenings of the world from his vast repository of knowledge.
             He successfully replaced all that was ignorant in me with curiosity and tolerance. Then he took my open mind and opened it even wider so that various aspects of life could be appreciated from a very young age.
             The best asset of his personality was that he could always get his work done in a way that the person on the other side felt happy doing it and at the same time did it with a desire to learn. At the end of the execution of the assignment at hand, the final outcome was always better than expected. Though as a child my sole target was to be as high as him in the physical sense and be a brisker mathematical wizard than him, in the later stages of my life it transformed into a desire to be as high as him in the mental stature.
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