To my Father

"He did not tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it." 

Dad,

You are good. The last I sat this patient to write a letter to you was in 2002. It’s been 10 years since then. You sent me to the boarding school, and those people at the school provided me with a letter pad and envelopes to write letters. Those were the times when I was asked to write letters, even today, I’m. My heart is asking. No other means in this tech-savvy world would be apt to meet my purpose. I love you and I wish, you feel how special you are to me. 

In a fortnight I will be Twenty Two. But I will never grow in your eyes. The early nineties, I was a kid and you took me to your field visits. I sat in the car. You did your chorus. I held the milk feeder in my cozy palms sitting silent in the car. You came back and the bottle feeder was still in my palms. Upside down. You smiled. I winked. That innocent wink for you cared so much. 

Did I really read newspaper for you when I was just three? True, because of the upbringing you and Mumma put in me in my early formative years. You both didn’t search for the telephone directory in those days; I was your directory for I had all the phone numbers on the tip of my tongue.  You remember? You sat with me on the terrace for long hours after the dawn. We played a game. You said a number and then another number and asked me to add them. I did it in fraction of seconds. And then a third number, the fourth number, one more number and one more, you continued. The game stopped only when I did a wrong addition. I remember, I lost a chocolate that day. You taught me the constellations in the night sky. I slept beside you while learning this. And then you carried me downstairs on your shoulders to my bed. I love you.

I grew a little older, in my own eyes. I had learnt a bit of science by then, in my school. You bought me a book of Science Experiments. I tried many of them at home. Mumma scolded me once for having broken the thermometer in her cup of tea trying to measure its temperature. I was curious. I aspired to become a scientist. I was a  Fourth Standard student.

I debated once on the pronunciation of “Use”. You said, its ‘Yooz’ I said, its ‘Yoos’. And then, Mumma said, its ‘Yoos’ when used as a noun and ‘Yooz’ when used as a verb. She taught me the power of forgiving people. She used to say.

“You forgive and You make an army of loyal.”

She taught me the lessons of honesty and smart work. She taught me what self-pride is. She had a dream that she wanted me to fulfill. She was the world to me. 

Her tenure was short. Almighty had other plans. This setback would have meant an end of the life for me. You stood with me in those times. You tried your best to give me strength. This was a bigger loss to you. I recall, You broke into tears at times. I gave you my shoulder. How matured I was at 10. We tried recovering the loss. We stayed with each other. I had learnt a lot of lessons in my life in those days. A major part of what has shaped me, comes from my learning in those days. You are special to me. 

One day, God fell on his knees. Probably he realized the extent of loss. He tried sending a replica to her. There is no replica to anyone in this world. Everybody is special and everybody is bestowed with virtues. Everybody is unique in their own kind. And a new chapter began.

I feel special. She loves me and she respects her. She loves you and she respects her. 

I owe a lot to you. I love you too. I grew a little more. I was in Tenth standard. You taught me a lesson. I recollect the sentence,

 “Distractions of the life come in these two years. You get through this period cautiously and you’ll emerge as a Victor”.                  

You gave me numerous examples and anecdotes. You asked me to care for my addiction if any, of the three Ws. Wine, Women and Wealth. You believed, that was not the right time for me to be distracted towards them. May be this is a spine of your life. 

A child is always a child for his father, no matter how grown up he feels. You shared a lot of experiences from your own life. The cherishing ones, the darker ones, also those, which with other people you would have hesitated sharing. And you never realized, I learnt a lesson from each of them. I’m definitely not perfect but, I’m heading in the right direction. 

Did I turn very much sentimental? No matter what, it’s a day. I love you. I recollect, once, I suggested a cellphone for you and asked you to buy that for yourself. And you were so loving,  that you gifted that to me on my next birthday, a week later. God knows, how you sensed, that I actually wished you to gift that to me when I was asking you to buy it for yourself. My goodness, how many other times this had happened when I tried cheating you. I feel grown up now. After all, you are my father. Smile. 

I know, you care for my decisions. You have started believing, I no more think only nonsense. I do have a vision. I see, at times you seek my help when you feel low in making decisions. And I understand, you respect me a lot. I feel so special. I have much more to say but I have to stop somewhere. 

My first salary is due in a couple of days. But don’t make me feel content with the fact that I’m earning for myself. You should ask me to search my horizons. I will not be satisfied with anything less than my potential. We call it an underemployment. There’s a lot to do for myself. There’s a lot to do for the people around me. Self-Pride is the prime motto. A job in any kind never looks lucrative to me. Why can’t I hire people to make my dreams come true? It is easier said than done. I know. 

- Ishu

I walk to you. I feel, you patting my shoulder to say, “Son, You have the potential. Go ahead.”

"I sighed as a lover, I obeyed as a son"