In this first-person account, facilitated by Nishtha Kawrani and narrated to The Better India, Devanshu Srivastav reflects on his late father and explores the idea of fatherhood beyond biology. He shares how his uncle stepped in as a father figure when he needed one most, and how, in turn, he became like a son to his uncle to help save his life during a critical medical illness.
Every year, I see fathers and their children celebrating Father’s Day, whether through social media posts, family gatherings, or simple moments on the streets of Delhi.
While these celebrations bring joy to many, they also remind me of a loss I experienced when I was just nine years old.
My father passed away during my childhood, leaving behind a void that no Father’s Day message or memory could ever fill.
For years, I found myself wondering what life would have been like if he had been there to guide me through school, adolescence, and adulthood.
The feeling wasn’t limited to a single day in June. It stayed with me throughout the year, surfacing during important milestones, difficult decisions, and moments when I needed a father’s advice.
Yet, life has a way of redefining relationships. In the years that followed, I came to understand that fatherhood is not always determined by blood. Sometimes, it is defined by the person who chooses to stand beside you when life becomes uncertain.
The uncle who stepped in to become ‘father’
I grew up in an ancestral home in Jaunpur, Uttar Pradesh, where three generations of our family lived together.
My grandparents, parents, younger brother, uncle, and I shared the same house. Like many children, I did not think much about money or how the household ran.
My father loved us deeply, but he remained unemployed for most of his life. Due to a lack of formal education and the influence of the wrong company, he was unable to build a stable career. Despite his struggles, he always tried his best to fulfil our wishes. Whether it was a toy from the market, a packet of sweets, or taking us out for an evening, he rarely let us return disappointed.
However, the financial responsibility of supporting our joint family largely fell on my uncle. Even before securing a government job, he contributed to the household through scholarships while pursuing his studies.
His uncle stepped in as a guardian, providing care, education, and medical support, showing that fatherhood is defined by action and commitment, not biology.
Later, as his career took him to different cities, he continued sending money home.
I still remember waiting for him to come home during Holi or Diwali. He was strict, and I was slightly afraid of him, but I also knew he would arrive with gifts, sweets, and stories from Uttarakhand and Himachal Pradesh, where he spent time during his education and training.
In 2007, life took a tragic turn, and I lost my father.
For a long time afterwards, I searched for him everywhere. Even today, there are moments when I wish I could wake up and find that none of it happened, that it was all just a bad dream.
In the middle of that grief, my uncle held me close and told me that he would take care of me.
At the time, I did not understand what those words would come to mean, but years later, I could.
More than an uncle, a father figure
The years following my father’s death were not easy. My mother was illiterate, and although she did everything she could for us, I began struggling in school.
Subjects that once came easily became difficult, and for the first time, I found myself falling behind academically.
In 2010, another challenge arrived: I developed an autoimmune condition that affected my legs to the point where walking became difficult. At first, I thought it was temporary stiffness, but the condition gradually worsened.
When my uncle learned about it, he immediately called me to Lucknow for treatment. For nearly three months, he ensured that I received proper medical care and bore all the expenses for my treatment and recovery. The treatment helped me recover physically, but my uncle was equally concerned about my future.
By 2011, he had noticed that I was struggling with studies and lacked the environment I needed to grow. He asked me to move to Lucknow permanently and continue my education there.
That decision changed the course of my life.
Lucknow offered opportunities that were difficult to access in my hometown. Better schools, a stronger academic environment, and exposure to a different way of life helped me regain confidence.
My uncle took care of every educational expense, from school fees and uniforms to books and other necessities. He often reminded me that there was no alternative to hard work, a lesson he repeated throughout my school years.
But what I remember most is not the money he spent.
It is the feeling of belonging, every evening, we would sit together for dinner with my grandmother, uncle, and aunt. Those meals may have seemed ordinary at the time, but today they represent something much deeper.
After losing my father, I found a home where someone continued to worry about my studies, my health, and my future.
My uncle never claimed he was replacing my father. He simply showed up, year after year, and did what fathers often do.
The future he helped me build
By the time I completed my schooling in Lucknow in 2015, my uncle had already spent years investing in my future, both financially and emotionally.
His support went far beyond paying fees or buying books. He wanted me to become independent and capable of facing life’s challenges on my own.
After school, he encouraged me to move away from home for higher education. While it would have been easier to stay within the comfort of family, he believed that independence was an important part of growing up.
With his guidance and support, I got admission in a government pharmacy college in 2015.
Throughout my college years, he remained my strongest support system. Whether it was educational expenses, advice during difficult phases, or encouragement when things did not go as planned, he was always there.
In 2019, I completed my undergraduate studies and stepped into professional life. Looking back, I often wonder how different my journey would have been had my uncle not stepped in at crucial moments after my father’s death.
For more than a decade, he quietly helped me rebuild a future that once felt uncertain. Then, in 2020, life tested him in a way none of us had expected.
A chance to give back to the man who raised me
In May 2020, my uncle called me from Lucknow and told me that doctors had advised him to undergo a liver transplant. It was the only option left to save his life.
Hearing those words was difficult, but my response was immediate. I offered to donate a part of my liver.
For me, it was never a complicated decision. The man on the other end of the phone was not just my uncle — he had helped my family through difficult years, paid for my treatment when I could barely walk, supported my education, and stood by me after my father’s death.
Initially, he was hesitant. The transplant required multiple medical evaluations, government approvals, and months of preparation. But as his condition worsened, the need became urgent.
By September 2023, I moved to Lucknow to complete the donor process. For nearly a month and a half, I followed a strict diet and prepared myself physically for surgery.
Years later, Devanshu repaid that love by donating a part of his liver to his uncle, completing a journey of care, sacrifice, and the enduring bonds of chosen family.
On 30 October 2023, we were admitted to Medanta Hospital in Lucknow together.
The surgery was successful, but the recovery was difficult, and I stayed in the hospital for about 15 days. The next day, I was allowed to see him — still critical, recovering from a more complex procedure. Yet seeing him there gave me hope.
Weeks later, he returned home. In January 2024, I returned to work in Delhi. Today, both of us are doing well.
People often ask me about liver transplants. But when I think about my uncle, I do not think about hospitals, surgeries, or recovery rooms.
I think about a man who chose responsibility when he could have chosen convenience. A man who supported his parents, his brother’s family, and later a young boy who had lost his father.
He never spoke much about sacrifice, nor did he seek recognition for it. He simply did what he believed was right.
Father’s Day reminds us to celebrate the people who shape our lives. My father, Alok Kumar Srivastav, gave me love and memories that I continue to cherish. My uncle, Rajesh Kumar Srivastav, helped guide me through the years that followed.
Long before I donated a part of my liver, he had already given me something far greater: the chance to build a future.
This story is part of our Father’s Day 2026 collection, where we spoke to Indian dads about what they learnt, what they sacrificed, and how they grew themselves up when they had kids.
All images courtesy Devanshu Srivastav
