An ode to the man who raised me

THERE is something heartwarming about the Dubai advertisement featuring Saif and Sara Ali Khan. It’s not just another glossy tourism commercial; it’s a poignant glimpse into the beauty of the father-daughter relationship. Sara’s affection for her abba shines through.

When they get on the rollercoaster, Saif looks a bit uneasy. Sara reaches over and holds his hand, saying, ‘I got you, father.’ There is tenderness in those words. As a daughter, I have felt that shift, that moment when the roles reverse, and it’s your turn to be the pillar of strength for the man who once seemed invincible.

Growing up, my father was the strongest man I knew. He was fierce in his love for us, his care unmistakable in everything he did. He was protective, a disciplinarian who made sure we knew the difference between right and wrong. All three of us siblings were a little afraid of him, not because he was unkind but because he set the bar so high. He was methodical and hard-working, always learning and achieving. In many ways, he was a hero — our hero.

There’s a certain universal truth for many daughters: your father is your first hero. He sets the standard by which all men who come after him will be judged. I remember those old commercials that used to run with the tagline ‘My Daddy Strongest’. At the time, it seemed like just another catchy line, but now I realise how deeply it resonates with me.

However, life has a way of shifting the balance, often in ways we don’t expect. For my father, it was a late diagnosis of glaucoma that changed everything. His vision deteriorated, though his body remained strong and his mind sharp. Over time, the dynamics between us changed. I started noticing the small things — a stumble here, a hesitant step there. He needed support, and it was both heart-wrenching and humbling to know that the man who had once been my rock now leaned on me.

That’s why Sara’s simple words, ‘I got you, father,’ moved me so deeply. They echoed everything I have wanted to say to my father as the years have passed. I want him to know that I’m here, that no matter what happens, I’ve got his back just as fiercely as he had mine growing up.

There’s beauty in this new chapter, in realising that the love between a father and daughter doesn’t diminish with time. It evolves. It deepens. It becomes a source of strength for both sides.

So, dad, in case you are reading this: I got you. Always.