For you, Dad.

It was Monday morning after an exhausting weekend. I was in the toilet with today’s The Hindu - Metro Plus in hand.

“Kids who spend a lot of time with their fathers are better learners and have higher self-esteem than those who get just ‘quality time' “ read the beginning lines of an article.

The lines caught my attention. It was an article titled “The togetherness quotient” authored by Geetha Padmanaban on the influence of fathers on the upbringing of their children. I read the whole article, it was beautifully written and I agreed with almost everything which the author had to say. As I was taking my shower, I tried to contemplate how much of my dad was I.

So, contemplating.....

I was 4 years old. I was going to Bosun’s school, the nursery school where I first learned how to write the letter A.

One line - /

One line - /\

And cross it - A

A!

I loved the school, always wanted to go back but that’s a different story.

Dad used to take me to school in the bus every day. He didn’t have a car back then, he still doesn’t have one.

“I don’t need one” he says

Anyways, this one day we were going to school as usual by bus. The stop for my school had come, dad got down first so that he could carry and put me on the road. He always let me walk, he never carried me to school. Just as I climbed down one of the foot board steps, my dad waiting with his arms outstretched to gather me, the conductor blew the whistle and the driver moved the bus. Suddenly fear gripped me, I stared at my father. His outstretched arms went down, eyes widened, he started screaming running after the bus. I didn’t know what to do, I kept looking at him, I could see his lips moving but I couldn’t hear anything. I was overwhelmed with fear, I was too small to think that the next stop was a few meters away and I could get down there and my dad would come and collect me there. It was like I was being taken away from my dad forever, tears rolled down my cheeks, I gripped the handle of the bus tighter in fear and my father was still running after me, shouting. Suddenly the bus stopped, may be the conductor finally heard him and stopped the bus. Dad finally got there and grabbed me. I realized that I just started breathing again. It was only a couple of seconds, the bus would have traveled about 20 meters but it felt like an eternity to me. He wiped my tears, I clutched his shirt.

‘Sorry Sir’ I heard the conductor saying to my dad. The bus left.

Dad was panting, sweating profusely partly because of the sprinting and also because of fear and anxiety.

‘Got scared my boy?’ he asked smiling

I did not answer. I smiled back at him

He put me down, held my hand and let me walk along with him to school. I couldn’t have felt any safer in my life!

I looked up to my father in everything I did, I still do.

He showed me how to walk straight like a man, without stooping forward.

He always told me listening rather than talking made you a lot wiser. Something I’m still trying to put to practice. I’m just not getting any wiser.

He taught me how to knock the door and enter into any room even at our own house.

He has one of the most brilliant minds I’ve ever known. His math is unbelievably quick and sharp and his grammar is immaculate. I still feel he has passed on a little of his grammar gene on to me but the math gene...not even a bit!

Once, both of us went to Coonoor to shop for new dresses and shoes for my birthday. I don’t remember exactly how old I was, should’ve been nine or ten. We finished buying the stuff and went to a restaurant for lunch. On the side of the road leading to the restaurant, there was a very old man sitting begging for alms. I expected dad to give him some money but he just kept walking even after seeing him. I tugged at his shirt telling him to give the old man some money. Looking at me slowing down my father, the old man grew louder. Dad shushed me and told me to walk along. I was upset and angry with him and reluctantly walked looking at the old man who was still staring at me with wanting eyes. I did not talk to dad at all as we went inside the restaurant and found a table for us.

‘What do you want to eat?’ he asked me

‘I looked away’

He smiled and ordered for both of us. I kept quiet staring into the wall as we waited for the server to bring our food

The food arrived and we started eating.

When we had finished, dad called the server and said “Please pack another full meal”

I turned and asked him ‘Are you buying for mom? It’ll go cold by the time we get home and anyways she can make her own food’

He smiled at me without answering. And then it struck me. I smiled back

‘He’s hungry, he wants food, not our money’ dad said

I nodded.

We finished our lunch, picked the parcel up and walked back. I was praying the old man should still be there and he was there. I snatched the parcel from dad’s hand and ran to him and gave the pack to him. The old man opened it, saw the food and looked back at me, his eyes were filled with gratitude, the amount of which I wasn’t able to comprehend. He signalled me to bend low, I knelt in front of him and he blessed me laying his hands on my head saying “nee romba kaalam nalla irupe thambi” (you’ll have a good and long life dear boy). I thanked him and got up, dad came there by then. He looked at dad too and said “romba nandringa aiyaa” (thank you so much Sir) dad smiled at him and the both of us walked away as the old man ate to his heart’s content.

‘And remember one thing’ dad said as we were walking

‘Yeah tell me’ I was almost running to keep up speed with him

‘Always help only the old and the physically challenged people. Don’t ever give alms to the others who are too lazy to earn their food’

‘Okay’

‘And another important thing’

‘Am listening...walk a little slower da’

‘No, you keep up with me’ he said

I continued running.

‘Your left hand can never know what your right hand gives’

‘Huh?’

‘You should never talk about what you did for the poor. Just do it and keep your mouth shut’

‘Okay but I’m gonna tell mom this’

‘To her you can’ he said.

The birthday function went well the next day.

The best thing I like about my father is his sense of humor. We just can’t stop laughing at his jokes. My mother always says that the secret to her sound health is nothing but all the laughing she’s done in their thirty two years of marriage.

I was in my ninth standard when this happened. Quarterly exams were going on and I had math exam the next day. I left home that morning to play cricket, I told mom that I’d be back in the afternoon and would prepare for the exam. Math was not something I liked to do and so I never felt like coming back home. It was 8 in the evening when I got home. I didn’t realize it until I was playing but just when I reached home, the gravity of the situation dawned on me. I was suddenly terrified of what was awaiting behind that door. Mom didn’t show much mercy when it came to studies. I did not want to step inside the house, I wished I could disappear...I wished my mother would disappear...I wished her memory would be wiped off or something...I wished there would be a lot of guests at home and they would never leave until my mom forgot about this day...I wished for the world to end at that moment. I went inside to find out that none of my wishes had come true. Mom was standing there waiting for me, she was furious.

I kept looking at her, I knew what was coming. She came close to me, I held guard still daring to look into her eyes.

‘I’m too angry to even do anything. Let your father handle you today’ she threatened me

Dad came with the same look in his face

‘Look at your son. There’s math exam tomorrow, he left home at 10 in the morning and has just come back’ she registered her complaint

‘Where were you man?’ asked dad

‘Was playing cricket’

‘What about tomorrow’s exam?’

‘What are you doing asking questions? Give him nicely so that he won’t do it again. He doesn’t listen to me anymore’ mom shouted at dad

Dad caught me by my hand and pulled me into the bedroom and shut the door behind us. Mom was outside.

He removed the belt out of his trouser from the hanger and looked at me. I guess I wet my pants that moment, had never seen dad that angry

He raised his right hand with the belt, I closed my eyes and turned away having given up all hope and surrendering myself to the hands of destiny

‘THUD’ I could hear the whipping noise of the belt but surprisingly I felt no contact between and the belt. I slowly opened my eyes to see what had happened

Dad had whipped the bed with the belt and was smiling at me. I started laughing, almost jumping at him

‘Sshhh sshh quiet, your mother is listening. Come on scream now, we need some effect’ he said

He gave another shot at the bed and I screamed

‘Appaaaa’

One more shot at the Kurlon foam bed

‘Ammaaa it’s paining. Daddy stop hitting me please I won’t do it again’

‘Hey don’t overact’ he cautioned

‘Okay okay’ I whispered

Mom was silent for the first couple of hits

Dad hit the bed for the third time and I screamed louder this time trying to fake a cry too

Now mom was banging at the door. She couldn’t take it anymore

‘Stop it stop it. That’s enough open the door. Open the door now’ she was screaming from outside

We were jumping inside, I was having the time of my life. Another shot and I screamed even louder

One more. And another one. I was enjoying my act.

Mom was getting hysterical, she was banging at the door so hard that we couldn’t concentrate on our act anymore

‘Shall we open the door? Guess I’ve punished you enough’ dad winked at me

‘Okay. Poor thing, let her in’ I said

He opened the latch and mom came rushing inside

She grabbed me and started yelling at my father

‘What are you doing! I just asked you to threaten him a little. Have you gone mad....’ she went on for a while, I don’t remember most of what she said to him

Dad listened to everything quietly and finally smiled

‘What are you smiling at? What’s wrong with you?’ she was still hugging me, tears in her eyes

Dad looked at me, I nodded

‘Thud’ he hit the bed with the belt

‘Ammaaa’ I screamed

She looked at me, she looked at him and she let go off me

‘What? Have you been? You didn’t? Bed?’ she stuttered

He hit the bed again and I screamed again and this time the both of us were laughing uncontrollably

‘Idiots...brats...both are just the same. You keep doing this to him and he’ll grow up just like you’ she couldn’t be angry anymore

We had one of the longest laughs that night.

I scraped through that Math paper with a decent 64. More importantly, I never went home late again.

I can’t remember the last time dad raised his voice, on me or my sister, not even my mother. I have memories of a million lashings from my mother when I was small but not one from my dad. His composure and patience is another thing I’m just not able to imitate.

‘Studying is very important’ he said, ‘but only as long as you learn something out of it. Remember those are two different things’ he said

He always insisted that we go to bed early. He also never failed to wake up in the middle of the night and wake me up to watch my favorite football team playing live.

He got me whatever I asked for but he also said ‘Never flaunt your possessions, not all your friends would have the same opportunities as you have. Friends are the one of the most important people in your life, you need to have a good bunch of them’

Dad loves my mother as much as he loves me or my sister, if not more. He has never treated her with any kind of disrespect, even the most subtle of them.

‘Your mother loves you more than I or anybody else does. Never make her unhappy’ he said.

One thing my father never taught me was how to make a lucrative career, because he himself did not make one. He had a good education but did not want to work as a salaried employee. He started a couple of businesses but failed. He was never good at confronting people. He lent a lot of stuff on credit but never managed to collect what was due. That way he was never going to succeed in doing his own business. He took up to agriculture just like my grandfather – we grow tea.

Dad always gave us the freedom to decide what we wanted to do with our lives. He made sure we were well aware of the choices and the resulting consequences but the final decision was always left to us. Right from the clothes we wanted to wear to the courses we took up in college, it was our decision, mine and my sister’s. We will always be thankful to him for that, to our mother too.

Finally, from whatever I’ve seen between my father and my sister at home, I believe that the father is a girl child’s first ever relationship with the opposite sex. He’s the first man she meets and spends time with. He represents the whole masculine side of the world to her. So, it more or less shapes the girl’s attitude towards men in general, her respect for them and her behaviour towards them for the rest of her life. And I’m pretty sure my father has done a wonderful job out of that too. My sister would definitely agree.

We can’t choose our father, but I couldn’t have asked for a better one!

'Dharshan.....'

‘Dharshan...open the door. What are you doing inside so long?’ Sathish was screaming outside banging at the bathroom door

‘Chill man...just a little flashback’ I said getting out

I got ready and left for office.

I just want to finish with these lines from the same article –

“When a mother picks up her kids she snuggles them, there's love and warmth. But when a father picks up his kids, he carries them on his shoulders from where they can see the world!”

He's special!