This memorial website was created in the memory of our loved one, Dattatray Parab, 73, born on December 18, 1938 and passed away on October 31, 2012. We will remember him forever.
Tributes
Leave a tributeVashi secctor 6 will always remind me
As I have never forget memories along with you in my heart God give peace in heaven
Samir this is my number 9867520503
Hameed from sector 6 vashi
mannacars@gmail.com
Happy Birthday to You !
We all miss you. I still remember the weekends we used to spend at the Vashi house.
I am sure you are at peace up there, watching and blessing all of us...
We do remember you on every occasion !
Happy Birthday to You !
You are always there in our heart !
Happy Birthday to You !
We miss you dearly
Ani, Sachi, Beth and Sameer
Leave a Tribute
Vashi secctor 6 will always remind me
As I have never forget memories along with you in my heart God give peace in heaven
Samir this is my number 9867520503
Hameed from sector 6 vashi
mannacars@gmail.com
Happy Birthday to You !
Sameer Parab
A Gentle, Compassionate and Kind Human Person… These are the words that resonate with me when I think of my father. His contributions to Navi Mumbai and many other charitable organizations are exemplary. I want to write a few words on my relationship with him as his son. Our relationship had several chapters throughout his life, each at different times…enriching in unique ways.
As a young boy, I remember his encouragement for me to learn, to enjoy and to experience everything that life has to offer. From Sports to Arts…from School to Movies…the sky was the limit. I have fond memories of my walks with him, holding his hand, every Sunday morning to the local mutton shop to buy meat for our favorite mutton curry, a dish we enjoyed together a lot. I have memories of him teaching me to play cricket in the small terrace of our apartment in Sector 1, Vashi. On some weekends, we used to ride the Harbor train together all the way to Fort, watch movies, go to the Rani-Bagh (zoo) and have a fantastic time eating Vada-Pavs, Pav Bhaji and downing Coconut juice. These were happy times with my father, which I cherish and miss a lot. His loving and protective hold on my hand will forever be etched in my memory.
Then, came my teenage years; and for my dear friends and family members who know me during those times, you will agree that I should start off by tipping my hat to my father for tolerating me so well amid my acts of mischief, mayhem and a penchant for rebellion. There are some things I did that my father did not know, and God Bless his Soul, it is better that way. His rules were simple: Keep your grades high, and you get more freedom. Looking back, I think I ran with the latter putting less credence on the former. He played a principal role in guiding this angry teenager towards adult hood. Do not react to immature adults who tell a chief town planner’s teenage son, “Cidco Building Teda Banatha Hain (Cidco makes crooked buildings)”. When my response would have been “Tere Berojgaar Baap ko Bhej Building Sidha Karne (Then, send your unemployed father to make the building straight)”; he taught me to maintain dignity and silence and win people over with kindness and understanding. I will admit I am still learning this trait, which he exemplified with stoic courage and self-belief. While my teenage years were not too different from others growing up in India at that time, with academic, peer, social and all kinds of pressure, I was lucky to have an understanding father. At around this time, my father also pursued an active interest in paper-machie sculpture. There were many artistic creations from him, and one particular making – a monolithic abstract “Ganesha” has become his signature gift to friends and family members. It stands as a testament to his artistic abilities and creative genius in keeping things simple and beautiful. While I did not inherit his artistic abilities, the motivation and principles reflected in his work serve as a source of inspiration to me every day.
Later on, when I was trying to gain a foothold and establish a new life in the States, I felt his absence profoundly. Although, he was not there physically, his gentle voice on the phone and encouraging letters gave me confidence to push ahead despite setbacks. I remember how he embraced my wife, Beth into the family at our wedding, by referring to her as his own daughter. We cherish his loving, playful times as Ajoba (Grandfather) to my elder daughter, Anoushka. Alas, his health deteriorated rapidly in the past few years, and while I wish he could spend more time with us and both his grand-daughters, I know he is no longer in pain and suffering.
I will miss him dearly...Rest in Peace, Baba