My Father, His Story

 They gave birth to me and with me they were born too- my father and my mother.
 I needed care and attention,they wanted love and affection this has bounded us beyond the traditional protector-provider relationship into a much desired confidence and a confidante relationship today. I have evolved into a better human being and they have helped in my evolution by evolving themselves.

Put in place Sigmund Freud's theory of OEDIPUS COMPLEX or cite the example of Janak proposing the most difficult task to be qualified to marry his beloved daughter Janki. The father-daughter relationship has been glorified since time immemorial. The sole idea of being a woman is based upon the ability to nurture and deliver another life which further propagates the idea of superiority that a woman often enjoys at the behest of the society over and above a man. The fact that no one but a mother alone has the courage as well as the patience to expand her tummy to adjust her little one, without fearing distortion of her body  and the excruciating physical trauma of delivering a human being does not in any way belittle the role of the father who without going through the labor feels the pain of it.  If the mother celebrates the joy of  watching her child take the first step it is the father who prepares himself to run with him/her in the long race that  life will offer. It is not always about the mother it is not even an overdose of fatherhood but it is just about a father hence MY FATHER,HIS STORY!

                   The concept of a new life isn't new, the cycle of birth and death is a sign of continuity for a society. Its only when you have a little one who's name and responsibility gets correlated to yours, the shrieking cries and pangs of hunger keeps you awake till late at night making snoozing alarm go vintage, the toilet behaviour has to be figured and sorted out by you thats when the new life starts to enchant you. The tiny palm clutching your finger so tight and the joy of nursing the softest thing you had touched hitherto. How is that feeling of feeling that someone in this big world recognises only your touch? You probably cannot verbalise it, because its a feeling of ecstasy that captivates you absolutely. My father might have felt the same when he had held me for the first time, a tiny human being with hair on head wrapped in a neat blanket sleeping so calmly in oblivion.

 People have their own reasons behind the names they choose for reference, my father emphasised upon being called DADDY in a time when everyone around had normalised PAPA over PITAJI( may be). I don't know about them who imitate for the sake of being Unique but for daddy, the idea was inspired from the movie DADDY where the protagonist singer finds his voice again through his daughter. May be i was that new lease of life he knew wasn't temporal.

                  MY father is not a batman or a superman he is a normal imperfect human being who has struggled and toiled to be what he is today.  From kisses, hugs,and chocolates for pampering us to holding us up when we were fast asleep on the scooter in motion to throwing us in air and tickling us till the sounds of our laughter echoed the house. He has loved us, he has cried with us, tried new food,places and even today our struggles tantalise his sinews more than exhausting our mind. He has relived his childhood with us and has influenced us to be generous in all walks of life.While my birth was a rejoice for him his birth was just another addition to be fed from a meagre income. Amidst the chaos of a hand to mouth life where recreation was little thought about, he was a GOD"S CHILD . Studious, bright and charming befitting the perfect definition of a good son who brought home respect rather than ruckus.

A child who studied when everyone was dreaming in their slumber, palmed his mouth to suppress the screeching pain when the skin of his tender arm got crushed between the gap the table had developed, ran in the morning to fetch milk for an old neighbour to get some kerosene in return to light his study lamp and studied again even as everyone was wide awake. Books were his best friend and Munshi Premchand his favourite author. If today you call him arrogant then may be you are less educated or you have struggled not to be where you are today! because "abhav ke prabhav se bhi insaan bohot seekhta hai".

When other fathers were worried about numbers he was satisfied with our knack to learn. I guess thats what good education acquired through hard work tends to serve. Children at the cusp of teenage often develop a habit of excusing themselves for the over smartness they exhibit, it is during these formative years that the role of the father becomes more prominent than the mother's who generally are emotionally fragile. It is the father who can wisely explain the subtlety of the difference between the right and the wrong, the good and the bad. When i come across kids with  extrapolated demands which causes massive embarrassment to their parents I feel glad, not because I wasn't one of them but because my father was different. I never made an excuse or denied conceding a mistake because i knew daddy would understand. He taught us what books did not- kindness, politeness and the ability to empathise which are not just the adjectives that fetch you 2 marks in an english exam these are the magical qualities that make you acceptable thus loveable. Hence we are loved not because we came first but because we were moulded to be loved.

                 My father was as much a cumulative success as I m a cumulative failure today! Many years ago he had to be felicitated for standing first in his school, his teacher did not allow him on stage because he was violating the dress code. He was asked to remove his pullover, I cannot imagine how helpless and humiliated he might have felt in confiding that his shirt was torn therefore he cannot take off the pullover. The teacher was adamant ,may be he didn't know he was teaching perseverance to my father. He buys himself shirts from exclusive showrooms today and makes sure to buy few for his father too (an appreciation he seldom gets nevertheless he fulfils his responsibilities ). The principal did felicitate him that day and he didn't have to take off the sweater. His hard work has proved its metal. His name written in golden letters still finds its place on the list of toppers. Ironical may be! I have managed a second rank but I never topped! 

             Daddy's life sounds amusing when he narrates it in his humorous style of storytelling. Sitting on a comfortable revolving chair, wearing crisp clean uniforms and having access to everything( almost) keeps me aloof from experiencing the hardships that scarcity brings, yet I have been taught to be humble. Money can buy the luxury of materialism but its never enough to completely satisfy your satiety for more, your more will always be less for some and your less will be more for a few.

 It was his humility to not react when he was mocked for sharing details of his dream house,abstaining from hatred that one develops for being criticised he made the impossible a reality thus, SAMRUDHDH-SRISHTI! his brainchild and the so thought ambitious dream which he has named after us-his daughters. 

          We have imitated the west blindly through blue denims, ATMs and iPhones but we remain orthodox at heart. A lot of people ask my father why aren't you marrying your daughter or if you don't marry her today she will slip out of your hands tomorrow. My father has not loved me by virtue of being my father only, he has also loved  me for what I am. When we talk about EQUALITY we do not imply role reversal. A man in any advanced society cannot bear children God gave this opportunity to women alone. EQUALITY simply means EQUALITY OF OPPORTUNITIES that many fathers do not provide their daughters with despite loving them to the moon and back and much more. He has not stopped us from realising our dreams for he has faith in us. He did not send us away from home because it is a trend, he is aware of our abilities, and I owe my skill of writing to him.

 A father is not a huge mountain who protects his children, nor is the pharaoh( Egyptian king) who gratifies the family needs . A father is as sagacious as a mustard seed who keeps his family together despite the differences the members develop due to differences in their individuality. Today when amazon provides us everything from needles to pins to sofas and car we define individuality more in terms of segregation. If there are two children in a family they will have their own likes and dislikes, easiest apparently is to offer tangy flavour to one and cheesy flavour to other respectively validating the difference further. A more rational way is to fuse them and offer flavours of both in a new flavour altogether.

   Dear Daddy, you are the best father because you didn't not protect us from the dark instead you showed us how to rekindle the fire within and be our own sunshine. You are a great husband not because you are liable to protect the dignity of your wife but because we have not seen her cry because of you. You are a good son because your mother blessed you even in her death and you are the most wonderful man because you love your children and they love you more with each passing day.

     Dear daddy, there would be days when people will misinterpret your actions for arrogance but you don't feel let down. You will be misquoted by your kin someday don't feel defeated. They will never know you, they will never make the effort to learn about your good intentions. The world is selfish it shall be. If a single rose can be our garden,our family our world.You are my father and this is OUR STORY.

signing off

Srishti