Losing a father is like losing a cornerstone of one's life, a guiding presence suddenly absent from the landscape of everyday existence. September of 2023 marked not just the turning of another calendar page, but the irrevocable loss of a man who had been a constant, silent force shaping my world. As a hotel management student immersed in the rigorous demands of training, the news of his passing felt like a sudden gust of wind threatening to topple the carefully constructed structure of my life. Amidst the hustle and bustle of kitchens and front desks, his absence echoed like a haunting refrain, a reminder of the void left by his departure. This piece is to reminisce the days spent with him and celebrate his everlasting warmth.

In those moments of solitude, surrounded by the cacophony of hotel life, memories of him flooded my consciousness like a tidal wave, each one a testament to his unwavering love and support. He may not have been one to express his emotions through words, but his presence spoke volumes: a silent symphony of gestures and glances that conveyed more than mere language ever could. Not for once did I get the chance to sit with him and have a talk about life and everything that was going on during those four months. His absence left an indelible mark on my heart, a silent ache that reverberated with every step I took, every task I completed. There were no final goodbyes, no chance to utter those words left unsaid, only the lingering weight of regret and the bittersweet sting of memories cherished.

Yet, amidst the grief and longing, there also bloomed a newfound sense of determination, a resolve to honor his memory through my pursuits and endeavors. In every dish I crafted with care, every guest I greeted with warmth, his spirit lives on, a silent presence guiding me forward in the labyrinth of life.

Reflecting on happier times brings a sense of solace. I remember the Sundays we spent together cooking up new dishes and trying out new recipes before making it for the family or just listening to music on our now old home theatre. Sometimes on random evenings, he used to call and say he's craving for certain dishes and I used to order them or bring them back with me while returning from college. On weekend mornings, we used to take a stroll in a big stadium ten minutes from our house and have a hearty talk with everyone present there, and it was a good time spent indeed. He never was the vocal type for anything but his actions did speak louder than his words ever could. We both used to love cricket and I too planned to take him to a World Cup match that was scheduled to happen in our city the very next month, and I had saved up for it too. But, oh well. Life had other plans for me.

And though the ache of his absence may never fully fade, his legacy endures: a beacon of light in the darkness, reminding me that love transcends the boundaries of time and space. So, as I navigate the winding path ahead, I carry his memory in my heart. These memories are a silent companion whispering words of encouragement and love, guiding me ever onward towards the horizon of possibility. In every joy and success, I see reflections of his love and the happy moments we shared, a testament to a bond that continues to inspire and uplift me.

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