I was eagerly waiting for my father to come. He visits us only twice a year, on Holi and Diwali. Sometimes he can't make it if something important comes up. But he always makes up for it. He is in the Indian Army and every time I tell this to anyone, it makes me feel proud. I can go on and on about his heroics without a hint of exhaustion. He was involved in the rescue operation when Uttarakhand saw a catastrophic cloud burst. So, anyway since he didn't come for Holi, we were even more excited about his homecoming. Subhi was particularly excited about his visit because she just had got admission in a local school. With each day passing, our excitement was building up. Maa was working hard to be done with Diwali preparations before he came so that we could have some quality family time. We cleaned every room. We even got the store room organised. We whitewashed our small puja room. I did the lighting decorations with decorative light bulbs we had bought last time. It was Diwali morning already, but he hadn't come yet. We started worrying about him. Maybe his leave had been cancelled or he was just stuck somewhere due to some railway issues. We kept asking Maa about his whereabouts and why he had not come yet. She kept telling us that he would come soon and there was nothing to worry about, trying to conceal her anxiety which was so apparent in her trembling hands which could not make a single perfect laddu which my father loved. And suddenly the doorbell rang and Subhi ran for it. There he was – my father – standing at the front gate with a large bag on his back. Subhi jumped on him at first sight, making him tremble a bit. There is nothing better than being wrapped around your father's loving and caring hands. A hint of a smile spread on Maa's face radiant with love and affection. And I sighed a sense of relief.