What We Remember of Our Fathers

When I was a child, my father would hold my hand every time we crossed the street. He still does. I don’t need him to, but he does it anyway - instinctively, gently, like muscle memory. I’ve grown up, but in that moment, I feel small again, safe again. That hand has come to mean something more: a lifetime of trust, comfort, and the kind of love that doesn’t draw attention to itself.

It made me wonder what moments like that meant to others, the quiet gestures that stay with us long after they’ve passed. So this year, when we spoke about Father’s Day at BW Businessworld, we asked a simple question: What’s your fondest memory of your father? And the answers that came in weren’t stories of grand achievements or dramatic lessons — they were quiet, vivid, and deeply human. They reminded me that I’m not the only one carrying these small, powerful memories.

Bhuvanesh Khanna, CEO - BW Communities, took us deeper into a life that continues to inspire, even after its physical absence.

He didn't hold back his emotions and took me on this journey filled with values and nothing but respect, "In the private vault of memory, where I keep the most sacred recollections, none gleams brighter than that of my late father, Rajesh Chander Khanna — a man I hold in the highest esteem."

"In countless ways, knowingly and unknowingly, wittingly and unwittingly, I have tried to mirror him. In the way I speak, write, dress, carry myself; in the way I see the world and expect things of myself and others — he remains my benchmark, my original," expressed Khanna. 

A child of Partition, he lost everything but never lost himself. Schooled in Urdu, fluent in the Queen’s English, elegant in speech and style. He talked about how his father had set a standard that he has spent his life trying to match. His writing, his tailoring, even his choice of pipes and pens — nothing was accidental. Everything reflected his belief in dignity, decorum, and self-respect.

His sense of style was no less refined. Fashion for him wasn’t trend-driven — it was timeless. His suits were tailored, always bespoke...

“He didn’t just raise us. He raised the bar — in everything. And just when you thought you were catching up, he would lift it higher still... They don’t make them like him anymore. The mold, long broken.”

While his words paint the portrait of a man etched in refinement, values, and quiet command, Vivek Mittal, Sr Vice President – Business & Operations, BW Hotelier & BW Travel, shared memories rooted in shared passions and everyday joy. 

He expressed, “Fond memories of my father involve his presence and his interaction with me. The moments which are deeply cherished and evoke feelings of happiness and nostalgia."

Driving and cars have always held a special place in my heart—not just as a passion, but as a bond I shared with my father. It was he who first sparked that interest in me. I still remember the way his eyes would light up whenever we spoke about engines and road trips. For him, driving wasn't just about going from one place to another—it was an experience, a freedom, a joy. And he passed that love on to me. Patient, calm, and always encouraging, he made sure I understood the responsibility that came with holding the wheel. That bond over cars is more than just a shared interest—it is a thread that still ties us together.”

That thread of calm guidance and unspoken trust is something many of us carry, sometimes without even realising it — until a memory brings it back to the surface.

Aanchal Sachdeva, Assistant Editor at BW Travel & BW Hotelier, shared a memory that stayed with me for another reason. It was sharp, emotional, and deeply telling of what fatherhood can look like when it’s rooted in respect, not control.

Years ago, while on a family trip to Shimla, Sachdeva found herself in a situation that made her feel unsafe — a group of men staring and making comments. Before she could decide how to react, her father had already stepped in, confronting them firmly. But what mattered more was what he didn’t do afterward. He didn’t lecture her. He didn’t make her feel guilty or restrained. He made sure the moment didn’t define her, or limit her.

“What touched me most was not just that he stood up for me, but that he never turned that moment into a restriction,” she said. “Travelling with him sometimes feels like two different generations navigating the same world with different compasses. But somehow, we always end up having the best time.”

For Sanu, fatherhood is defined by constancy. Not the loud, performative kind — but the kind that stands in your corner, quietly.

“On Father’s Day, I reflect on the quiet strength and unwavering love my father has always shown through his actions. His steady presence, wise words, and tireless efforts have shaped my values and guided me through life’s challenges, especially in my career. Whether through small sacrifices or simple encouragement, he has been the anchor in my life. His fondness was never loud, but always felt in his protective gestures, belief in my dreams, and silent support during tough times. Today, I honour not just a father, but the backbone who has always stood by my decisions.”
— Sangeet Kumar Sanu, Correspondent

A steady presence. A believer in your dreams. Many of us recognise that figure — the one who doesn’t say much, but whose support is always there, firm as ground.

“Being carried in his arms from the backseat of the car to the bed, while being completely unaware, has to be the fondest one. Even today, I miss that moment, purely because I still carry the scents and how that made me feel. To hold on to a memory you never fully witnessed but deeply felt, is it an irony, or am I a serial consumer of nostalgia who is dying to be alive in that moment, again?”
— Kishan Singh, Junior Correspondent

Singh's memory captures something many of us feel but rarely express: the power of being cared for, wordlessly. There’s a deep kind of safety in knowing someone was there for you, even when you weren’t aware. His words are a reminder: some of our most lasting memories are the ones we didn’t witness with open eyes, but still carry with us, fully felt.

That’s what stands out in these memories — the restraint, the instinct, the way fathers protect us without dimming our light.

“Every day with my dad feels like a new memory, but our road trips are the ones I hold closest to my heart. The best part has always been the last-minute (but the most successful) plans, like Kedarnath in heavy rains, Nainital on a cloudy day, or our recent spiritual trip to Varanasi and Ayodhya, have given me memories for life. Travelling with dad and my family feels calm, joyful, and full of love.”
— Kumud K, Junior Correspondent, BW Hotelier & BW Travel

Her memories take the shape of winding roads, spontaneous trips, and family time that feels grounded and whole. There’s a freedom and peace in those moments - something as essential as any life lesson. Sometimes, the best memories are born from plans that weren’t planned at all.

What stayed with me most as I read these reflections was this: none of us picked a perfect moment. We chose real ones. Ones that sit quietly in our hearts, waiting to be remembered. Because sometimes, even as adults, we find that the smallest gestures - a hand reaching out, a steady presence beside us - are what stay with us the longest.

This Father’s Day, don’t look for the perfect tribute. Just notice the moments. The quiet ones. The ones that don’t ask for attention, but mean everything.