Wearing badge of fatherhood with pride

F ather’s Day will be here on Sunday. Though everyday is a celebration of blissful togetherness with parents, yet an opportunity to express gratitude to who we revere should never be missed.

There is no prayer stronger than parents for their children and no advice greater than the one your instincts give you about your children. In A Prayer for My Daughter, poet WB Yeats reflects on the admiration, affection, care and concern of a father. ‘O may she live like some green laurel, Rooted in one dear perpetual place’. Though times have changed since Yeats wrote the poem, a father’s prayer for his daughter’s safety and security in a world of growing disorder and increasing human misery remains the same.

Sometimes memories improve with age. The distant past looms before us and events and anecdotes come alive. My mother, as told by my grandmother, was the coy bride from a small town who got married in a family where things and people strayed. The place was not a temple of decorum and restraint. My father, even as a boy was different from his siblings and cousins. He was first in his family to venture outside, make a humble beginning with an engineering degree, and write his own story of life.

Together, my parents nurtured a charming home. Years went by and daughters were born. We were a happy family that bonded through the ups and downs. We never felt the pressure of gender, parental authority or expectations and disappointments, which most of our friends complained about.

Childhood comes as a repeated happy motif when cities were laidback with no real entertainment except movies, parks and fairs. Such events brought out families in hordes with excited children in tow. Visiting the Ambala City Park, clinging to my father’s firm hand, reaching to swings and stalls, partaking of delicacies and softies, laughing and talking, we reached home. My sense of elation and pride were heightened by observing and listening to dad.

My father wore the badge of fatherhood with pride. Multitasking, his hands were full, soaked in sweat and sacrifice to give us the best, in the best tradition of a dutiful father. Soft-spoken and unassuming, he was always there for us as we grew up.

In my teens, I wanted to pursue a different career than study English literature. He patiently bore my nagging, putting me on the pilgrimage of scholarship and my tryst with literature continues. The doors of memory open and I find him standing misty-eyed and ecstatic, as I got selected as a lecturer at MLN College, Yamunanagar. I owe my doctorate to him. It was his dream before it was mine. Giving wings to my imagination, he encouraged me as a brother, advised me as a teacher, complimented me as a mentor, and kept my secrets as a friend. He’s the man who shaped my future.

I am emotional yet strong, caring and compromising in having fun yet within limits. I believe in standing my ground and respecting myself so no one can take away my dignity. Whatever I am today, I owe it to my parents; a strong mother, who made me self-sufficient, and a father, who is the epitome of serenity and humility. Today, when I see my father heading an educational institution post-retirement and being given overwhelming love and regard, I salute his selfless spirit and sagacious sensibility. My mother’s memories are like a mutual friend to me and him, it has made our bond stronger and firmer.

Happy Father’s Day!

GIVING WINGS TO MY IMAGINATION, HE ENCOURAGED ME AS A BROTHER, ADVISED ME AS A TEACHER, COMPLIMENTED ME AS A MENTOR, AND KEPT MY SECRETS AS A FRIEND. HE’S THE MAN WHO SHAPED MY FUTURE