Hyderabad, Sept. 5 -- Your mother is your first school. Absolutely true. Your mother is one who braved the untold hardships ever since you were a mere bump in her belly. She is the one who breast-fed you, cleaned when you burped and rocked the cradle and sang lullabies when you cried. She did a lot more for you. Which is why the ancient idiom "the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world" holds true even today.

Amidst all the justified praises for mother that we express, I think somehow the father gets the short shrift. So, as yet another Teachers' Day approaches, I want to talk about my father who was also my teacher, philosopher and guide. Through him I celebrate all the fathers everywhere.

My father was my hero. How? I will explain...