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A tribute to one of the most influential voices in Hindi cinema, written by his child. My dad is an amazing human being. Not just because he's my dad, but because he's always been so much more than that. An inspiration, a beacon of light and hope for the future; someone who never took anything for granted and led his life with grace, forgiveness and generosity. Someone who always did everything possible to give back what he had received himself--that was my dad's way of living; be grateful, be humble and do all you can to help others in need. This man who gave me life--he was like love embodied--was taken from us too soon after battling illness bravely for two years... So, with the help of my mother, I tried to keep his memory alive by writing this book. There's nobody in the world like my father. He was larger than life--so much so that he could have had a thousand lives and still wouldn't have been able to experience everything that his destiny had in store for him. He lived more in 65 years than most people do in 100 lifetimes. Here is the journey, beginning with its very first beat... Pran was born in a village named Nangal Choudhary, which was about 50 miles away from Amritsar. He had a tough childhood. But what I remember most about him from those early years is how happy he was... We spent our days playing in the fields, eating fresh vegetables and sleeping under the stars. My earliest memories are of my father singing for us--beautiful melodies that seemed to come straight from his heart. I don't think there could ever have been a more beautiful song than the one he made up for me when I was born--Soniye Hiriye Teri Yaad Aaendi Hai. I was so happy at having a new brother, and I still remember how my father tried to teach him the words of this song. In the midst of our joy, I wish my dad had been able to enjoy his childhood more. He was just two years old when he came into the world. His mother had died at childbirth, leaving him an orphan. So, Dad spent most of his early life living with relatives who were responsible for bringing him up... He never got much education because there were so many mouths to feed... but he could look after himself pretty well for a young man living alone in the countryside. At 12, he left home to earn his living in the city of Amritsar. He got a job in a factory by lying about his age; in those days, nobody asked for proof of age. So my dad became the personal assistant to the factory owner, which allowed him to lead a much better life than when he was growing up. While he was growing up, Dad had fallen in love with an amazing woman named Prakash Kaur; she was three years older than him, and she taught him how to read and write. When they were both 16, they got married and moved into a little one-room house on Church Road. cfa1e77820
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