"Ghano kharcho na karje maara uppar" (don't spend too much money on me), dad said when I was talking to him randomly one day about death and last rites. There was earnestness in his eyes and yet, I dismissed it as another one of his rants on being frugal, and not wasting money. Over the course of the next few months, his cancer progressed rapidly. The doctor gave him a month to live when we found out. "Stage 4, terminal", the doctor said. Nine months later, dad and I were having the same conversation on frugality. By then, I had already spent a considerable amount of time with him, coming down to Bangalore twice in a span of four months. In those moments, he had given us access to all his bank accounts, and made us nominees everywhere. Set his affairs in order. I always looked up to dad for his patience, and resilience. He was my totem pole, my North Star in all its shining brilliance. What does one do when they lose their guiding light in life? I find it so difficult to not be able