It is the summer holidays. The days might be blazing hot, but the nights are extremely cool, especially towards dawn. I am sleeping on my bed near the window which is open. Cool breeze blows in and cools my warm skin. I snuggle under my 'godhadi' - that soft covering which is just right - neither too warm, nor inadequate. The soft touch of my mom's sari - that is what the godhadi is. A godhadi is basically a patchwork quilt made of old sarees. A very effective way of recycling, while ensuring the soft touch of the person who wore it. The years go by. Everytime I go home to visit my parents, I take out all of mom's old sarees and pester her to find someone to make a godhadi for me. So I collect something like 4-6 godhadis which I treasure and use regularly. They soon wear out, the fabric fraying completely and giving way in various places. Simple. I just make sure I use that side up, so as not to get my foot stuck in the tear. But I can't get myself to give it away. My mom has a pile of sarees, many of them never worn. All gifted to her. She barely ever bought any sarees for herself. Only to gift others. Now that she isn't here, her house is sold off and many of her belongings are given away. Except some sarees. My sister makes them into 2 godhadis each for her son, her daughter and for me. Yesterday I have received the very last godhadis I will ever possess out of mom's sarees . (They are a bonus. I did not know who I could find to make godhadis of them for me.) The first one is immediately commissioned into use. As I look at the four sarees they are made of (3 of them, my favourites), I can picture my mom wrapped in them and the softness of their touch which envelopes me brings a feeling of happiness and security. I always thought I was Daddy's girl. So what did I receive from dad that gives me the same feeling, I wonder this morning. Then I realize - all those Gita classes, lectures by Chinmayananda which made me think and still do (the consequences of which all of you face at regular intervals - my sincerest apologies!!! ) and which give me strength in the toughest times were the 'godhadi' which he spun around me for a lifetime. Memories of just the two of us going for Marathi plays, walking back laughing over the funny dialogues, of us enjoying food together, going with him to his office and taking the lift as a 5 year old for the very first time in my life ..... those are some extremely fond and priceless memories. And then the whole import strikes me. Much as I think of them all the time and feel their presence around me, the actual extent of their presence with me, around me and IN me is more than the actual sum of the 50% DNA from each of them. Their warmth and their wisdom are an integral part of my existence and will continue to be with me for the rest of my years. A heartfelt prayer goes out: may I always have such solid parents in every lifetime to come. I hit the jackpot in this life. May my lucky streak not be over.