Thursday 26 February 2009

Daddy Dearest!

I remember taking giant leaps to keep up with his pace; walking with him always meant trouble to my skinny legs. He would take me to a nearby sports club for some exercise which was always of primary importance to him. Being a kid, I had trouble focusing on his explanations; sports talk is something that demands tremendous amount of patience. At the end of a tiring session, he would playfully lift me up and jog back home to get me dressed for school. That’s daddy to me, a sports champ and a thorough athletic package. Apart from that, one of the greatest time freaks I have ever witnessed in seventeen years of meager life. (That’s because he’d get started for our 10 minute journey to the educational institution an hour before its commencement!)
Biology being his favourite subject, he’d enjoy giving sermons related to the subject even when least required. One of his biggest lectures was on the external structure of heart and its internal functioning (which dates back to 1998, when I was a confused fourth grader). His knowledge was finally put to use in a science project which apparently turned out to have a great impression on my teachers. Those were one of the few, rarest of occasions when I acknowledged his affection as a father. A staunch believer in educational qualifications, he inculcated principles of basic knowledge and its significance, yet we (i.e. my brother and I) were never confined to academics. I was always pampered to a degree greater to my elder brother, who unfortunately, was the innocent one amongst us. He took pride in our achievements in a very queer manner; a manner that stood completely invisible to us till the time we were made to realize of its existence.
There came a time when it clicked me of his introvert nature, gradually enfolding itself. Being an exact replica of him myself, I despised his ruggedness and conservative conduct. I rooted various reasons to burst out on him, yet, he guarded respect, never stormed out directly to prove his point and till date stands out to be extraordinarily consistent in preserving that quality. Today, I feel extremely remorseful, never having acknowledged of his pertinence, protectiveness or even his mere existence without which my presence would have been practically impossible.
If the above sketch is a dry imitation of his own self, then let me clarify that the potential emphasis lies in this particular phase of his character- duties and responsibilities, all of which comprises of his shoulders that have abundant strength to fulfill them and immense practicality to perform them rightfully. His love for his family is in every way, as ordinary as anybody else’s could be. Yet, he has the power of doing what people are fretful to consider as one of their responsibilities- the power to initiate duty for the sake of it, not as a means to achieve anything out of it. The only reason that saddens me of him is, of all that he did for his dear mother, he was left with little or no time to grieve for her. I couldn’t help but feel proud and sorrowful for a loss that affected him more than it did to anyone else. It was as If the stretcher carrying her was the entire world crashing down on his shoulders. He was broke, yet he fought his grief to accomplish final rituals, a traditional quintessence for the soul of the dead to depart in peace.
How much ever I write about him, words are still few. This is one of the little ways of appreciating his support and his love for us. WE LOVE YOU DAD!