The Founding Fathers of Our Lives

Everyone is celebrating Father’s Day today. The social media is abuzz with posts and photos hailing fathers across the world and thank god, fathers are getting their fair share of love and attention in some way. Otherwise, the foundation stones of every child’s life are rarely celebrated. They just stand firm at the base holding everything with poise and grace, without complaining that they are being ignored. I firmly believe that a father is not given due love and affection that he ought to get. Mothers are always idolized in films and pop culture. Films and songs centered on the bonds of mother and son are in plenty but very few films have been made on the relationship of father and son/daughter.

If I talk about Bollywood, there are just a handful of films that come to the mind and this is something that noted lyricist and writer Javed Akhtar also accepted in one program. But he also said a very remarkable thing about the bond of a father and daughter. He said that a son cannot take as much liberty with his father as a daughter can and I feel it is quite true. If you have seen the movie “Piku,” you would realize it instantly. The frankness with which Deepika Padukone (Piku) speaks to her father and overrules him is something that a son can never do 🙂

In real life too, I believe that a father and daughter are far closer than a son and father. Nevertheless, there is always a line between a father and child which only grows stronger as both age. Maybe it is because fathers do not show their affection the way mothers do. They are not as expressive as mothers but then it is not their fault either. Societal norms have restricted their role to that of a provider, a giver who sits on the sideline and watches his better half showering their progeny with warmth and love.

They are not participants in the show but then pillars have never been participants. They have always been the organizers who ensure the building stands tall and firm while the show goes on and this is not an easy task at all. It requires immense strength, courage and sacrifice. So, as the world celebrates father’s day, I sincerely wish all the fathers of the world who have been there for their child and seen them through thick and thin. Lastly, I would just quote the words of psychiatrist Sigmund Freud that will always ring true in all ages and times.

“I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father’s protection.”

When the Father Spoke a Different Language

Father’s day is past and I have already narrated the fable of my father. But there are some people who I cannot help but remember as dear father-figures. HareKrishan uncle is one such soul. He is not related to me in any familial way but he showered me with great love and care when I stayed in his house in Shimla.

He was the landlord of the PG. Well, it would be wrong to call him landlord as the PG was not his brainchild. It was his wife’s idea and she ran it. Uncle was a kind, quiet and retired man. He mostly kept to himself and rarely intervened in her matters. Aunty ruled and was quite good at ruling. A sharp, authoritative and loud Punjabi lady, she mixed well with all the boys and girls and all seemed to be in awe of her. But no one spoke much to uncle, neither did he.

So, I was a little surprised when he sent for me one Sunday. It was the first Sunday after I had come to live in his PG. He must have thought that I would be feeling lonely as all the locals had gone to their homes. A little surprised, I went and there he was with aunty, sitting in his drawing room. He had ordered jalebi for me 🙂 He asked me in Punjabi, what I had been up to. I said I was reading newspaper. He smiled and then ordered his maid to make tea and pakoras. He spoke to me, but only in Punjabi because that was the only language he spoke.

I could understand only half of the things. Aunty translated some for me. She spoke Hindi well. It was a somewhat funny conversation. I was surprised to see him speaking because in all those six days, I had never seen him speaking much. It looked like he did not like to talk. So, it was quite a pleasant surprise to see him narrating a number of stories. After he had narrated a good deal, he said “Hor suna, Deeksha (tell me more)”. I heard “Horse laa,” and wondered how could I bring a horse to the PG 🙂 When I told aunty what I had understood, she gave a loud laugh and uncle also laughed heartily.

After that day, whenever I would pass by his gate, he would ask me how I was doing. It felt nice as he always gave me a warm fatherly vibe. When I told other girls about it, they said I am privileged. I remember one day, when I reached the PG a little late, I found out that he had sent the boys and girls to look for me, saying “kudi akeli haigi (the girl must be alone)”. It was raining heavily and I had not returned. When I did, others chided me a good deal, about not informing in advance that I would be late. But, uncle was calm, as always. When he saw that I had grown upset listening to their rant, he came to me, just like a father would, to comfort a sullen child. He said things, which I don’t remember but all he meant was that I should not think about all this and have my dinner.

When he learnt that I had sinus, he called me and gave me some wooden acupuncture stuff, explaining to me in Punjabi, how it cures sinus. I did not understand much, but kept it. He used to give me all the newspapers that came to his home, saying “le jaa, le jaa”. He remembered, I read newspapers. Despite the differences in our mother tongues, I think, we understood each other a good deal. He never asked anyone for anything but when it came to me, he never shied away from asking me to make tea for him. Just like a father would ask his daughter to prepare tea. And I liked doing the same for him.

In all those seven months of my stay, he looked after me just the way a father would. He was never very expressive and it did not matter at all. The way he cared in small ways and protected me, spoke volumes of his affection. This is why, when I was leaving the place for good, I wanted to avoid him, but aunty told me to meet him. She asked me to hurry up as he would leave for his daily walk. So, reluctantly, I went.

Told him “I am going” and he just nodded, thinking I was going for a holiday and would return after some days. So, I had to tell him that I was going permanently. I mumbled “I will not come back, it is forever”. For a moment, he looked blank. I thought maybe he did not understand and I was really in no mood to explain further. So, I bent and proceeded to touch his feet, but he stopped my hands midway. I was a little shocked at the strong grasp of his old hands and looked at him, wondering if I had done something wrong. He gave a weak but understanding smile, patted me on the head and then hurriedly turned away from me, walking off swiftly from the drawing room, without saying anything.

That was the last I saw of him. It has been two and a half years and I do miss him sometimes, especially on Sundays, when my father brings jalebi for me. I don’t think I will ever speak to him again or meet him in future, but if I do, I would be really glad to hear him say “Hor suna.”

How My Father Framed My Life

Father’s day is here to honor one of the most underrated figures in the world. But it is good that at least one day will bring out the soft feelings and emotions of children for their ill-famed father. Otherwise, fathers rarely get lucky. A father is not celebrated with much fanfare in many societies, especially in a patriarchal society like India. Indian fathers rarely show emotions and most of the time, find themselves forced into the role of a disciplinarian while a mother is considered to be the fountain of emotions; one who loves and spoils her children.

The poor father has to fit into the unpleasant role, society has decided for him and I personally feel that it is very unfair. Anyway, wishful thinking never gives us what we want. So, better to focus on what we have and if I talk about what I have i.e. my father, I would say that he also fits into the stereotypical role. I have been brought up by a strict, disciplinarian and orthodox father. But I have also seen his softer and weaker side. I do not support everything he does. Still, I do admire him for certain things.

First and foremost, I like his simplicity. He is a simple man. No airs, no showoff, straightforward and simple. He is the least materialistic person I have seen and that is a quality I hugely admire. I often wondered ten years back why didn’t he dye his hair, like other men of his age, but he would always say, it does not matter. What one is, one should look like. I have never seen him spending money on fancy clothes, accessories or other such things, not even in moderate amount. I know of many people who earn way lesser than him but lead a fancier life. But Papa never bothered to bother about such things.

I also admire him for his perseverance and honesty. In all these years of his job as a bank employee, I have never seen him taking work casually. In fact, he is a workaholic. Papa likes to work and does more than what he should. Sadly, I have seen people taking advantage of this trait but I have also seen people respecting him for it 🙂 He has done his job with great sincerity. In fact, sincerity is a quality I learnt from him. Whether it was a math problem or a chore like ironing my dupatta or rolling out round chapattis, he would always ask me to do it sincerely, to work hard on it and I would get it right.

Lastly, I like that he is good-hearted. I have seen his gentle attitude towards the less privileged folks. I remember once we had gone to Allahabad for an exam, and while passing through a posh area, he pointed out the jhuggis on the sidelines, telling me how stark income inequality is in our country. I also remember how he bought locally-manufactured snacks (despite the displeasure of my mother) from a small shop because the man had started his business and needed sales. He is grateful for the life he has got and is quite a content man. And I have learnt from him how important it is to appreciate the value of a fortunate life and be kind to those who are not as fortunate.

Well, this is all and I feel it is a lot. Of course, he has his share of flaws and I do wish he did not have those qualities. Sometimes, I feel very disappointed with him. He irritates me and also makes me angry and not in subtle ways. We have major disagreements, but then, his goodness somehow outshines his weaknesses. And whenever I feel frustrated with him for doing or saying a thing that I do not appreciate, I remind myself of his plus points. It does not work always but sometimes it does.