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So, between work and fighting off an annoyingly persistent bout of cold, I’ve fallen deplorably behind in my reading. But, on the bright side, I’ve finally gotten around to writing this post for Father’s Day. (I have good intentions! Unfortunately, they don’t get implemented immediately!) So taking a break from the Reading List, here’s to my dad… My father – well where do I start – there are so many instances I remember from my childhood; instances that have defined our relationship in many ways. I always enjoyed running errands with my dad. My earliest memory is of standing beside him with my arm around his neck as he drove his Mahindra Jeep in Muzaffarpur. I think that’s when I developed a love for jeeps. He had a phrase that he used to describe me, (which I only understood when I was older!) – “Three years old and three feet tall.” After we moved to Hyderabad , I remember many rides, sitting on the petrol tank of his Yezdi. With the wind in my face, and my dad behind me, that