Undergraduate / "father's strict religious rules" - My dad's impact on me [6]

Write an essay in which you tell us about someone who has made an impact on your life and explain how and why this person is important to you.

please tell me if i answered the question, and point out ways to improve grammar/structure.
be as critical as needed.
thanks:)

"I'm not going!" I screamed at my mother after she asked me for the hundredth time to visit India with my father. "What did he do to you, Vaishnavi? Why do you despise him?" my mother replied. "We don't even talk." I said, "We haven't talked in years. And that's why..." I stopped abruptly when I saw my father's head out the slightly open door, and reluctantly agreed to go to India so I wouldn't hurt his feelings. Although my parents are not divorced, I don't have a proper relationship with my father. My father is an orthodox Hindu Brahmin (the highest and most honorable caste in Hinduism) whose strict rules never appealed to me; my rejection of our religion made us grow apart, and I sometimes even forgot that I had a father. However, on my trip to India, my father's conservative Brahmin lifestyle and spirituality captivated me and changed me into a disciplined, hardworking, and devoted Hindu.

When I arrived at the small and forgotten little village of Athirangam in Tamil Nadu, I watched my father take his shoes off before entering our house (it is a Hindu religious custom to do so), and compliantly did the same; I didn't want to get into an argument about his religious beliefs this early in the trip. While I silently complained about the inferior quality of the bed's mattress, I accidentally made eye contact with my father. The awkwardness of the brief stare made us turn away, and I shook off the look of longing I saw in his eyes. "Wake up at six o'clock tomorrow, we have a lot of work to do," I heard my father say as he walked into the restroom. "Ugh." I sighed to myself, "I can never have a break!"

To my father, six o'clock means six o'clock, and I wasn't surprised when I saw him with a bucket of water in his hands by my bed after my alarm rang persistently for three minutes. As soon as my father saw I was awake, he turned, said something under his breath, and left the room. After I got ready and my father and I walked to the village temple, I saw people preparing for a celebration. My father led me to the back of the temple where an enormous parade chariot sat with Lord Vishnu's statue on top. I approached the magnificent golden chariot and turned to see my father's expression; he looked admiringly and reverently at the majestic statue, and smiled when a man in a dirty white shirt asked him to help carry the chariot. "Why would he willingly carry such a heavy thing?" I thought as my father clenched his teeth and struggled to carry Lord Vishnu on his right shoulder. He motioned me to help him, and I did as he told without any of my rude comments; my father's devotion softened my heart and I became curious about the festival. "What are we doing, dad?" I asked him. "Today is the day that Hindus celebrate the birth of Lord Vishnu, and only Brahmins have the right to hold the weight of the Lord on their shoulders," he replied. "Dad, why do Brahmins have so many restrictions and rules? The other castes don't," I said. "You have to remember," he said while he grunted under the weight of the chariot, "that Brahmins are born from the pure mouth of Lord Brahma. So, all of our rules and restrictions are to maintain that purity. Everything we do must be done in a certain order, and those who stray from the path are punished." My father's words rang in my ear as I struggled to keep up that holy chariot.

Thoughts suddenly flooded my mind; I remembered that my father didn't cook until he bathed, he never allowed anybody to wear shoes inside the house, he never washed dishes that we ate from in the kitchen, he never let us eat meat, and now he bared the weight of an enormous chariot-all for God. When I realized all of his rules and perseverance had meaning, something inside me stirred, and I wanted to have a goal in life: to be pure and closer to God. Because of my father, I wanted to be devoted, disciplined, and hardworking. I wanted to do everything in my power to uphold my Brahmin status. I gazed at my father in admiration; his strict nature prevented him kept him from showing signs of fatigue. In reaction to this, I mustered up all my strength to carry the chariot, and I smiled away my pain while thinking the words, "This is for God."

The next morning, I woke up before my dad, bathed, and started the ritualistic household prayer. My father woke up to the smell of burning incense and my voice chanting the prayers he taught me as a child. By the time my father came out of the bedroom after his shower, I was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. His apparent shock amused me as he ran to the phone and called my mother to inform her of my transformation. "It's because of you, dad!" I screamed. My father turned to see the sweat on my face from the hot kitchen and smiled; he liked what I became.

Because of my father, my quest for purity continued even when I went back to the United States. My friends stared in amazement at my religious devotion: I avoided meat, didn't let anybody touch my backpack with their feet in order to maintain the holiness of education, and stopped sharing food because Brahmins aren't allowed to ingest the tainted saliva of others. In addition to my new religious morals, I also developed a strong, somewhat puritanical work ethic. That helped me improve from a C student to an A student.

Although I wasn't fond of my father's strict religious rules, on my trip to India, his devotion to religion captivated and transformed me. Without this impact on my life, the purity and closeness I feel to God would be gone, and my life would be devoid of a passion. Not only did my father impact my life, but he shaped the lives of my posterity; I will continue to carry the weight of the spiritual chariot so I may pass on this gift to my children.