I waited until I was 15 years old to have my first major disagreement with my physicist dad. We were living in India, and I had just been elected (note, not appointed) captain of my high school. Shortly before I “assumed office”, he was offered a coveted position at an American university. My teenage self was incredulous that he would put his career over my popularity.

My pleas to stay back at boarding school were to no avail. My father made no effort to reassure me that the massive geographical and cultural shift would work out. Instead, he said we were sailing uncharted waters and would have to make the best of our situation. So off we went to freezing Minneapolis where we spent a year before my dad’s reputed lab was invited to move to Pittsburgh. My exasperation was complete.

Recently my own teenager asked what that time was like. I replied that my dad’s decisions had been the making of me. I fell from the height of popularity to being a nobody and was forced to make friends. In the process, I developed a lifelong appreciation for the underdog, curiosity about people and a thirst for American universities that pulled me back as an adult.

Today, my dad turns 80.

When my children note that I never say I love you (and seldom say thank you) to my Indian parents, I shrug that what’s implied doesn’t have to be said. But today it feels apt to take stock of the things he got right.

More than anyone else, my dad........

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