Dad

My relationship with my dad has been a very turbulent one. As a kid I had a sort of stoic relationship with him. Most of all, I used to fear him. During adolescence that fear changed to anger & rebellion. I used to hate Dad for every small thing he used to do. “Why cannot we spend extravagantly? Why does he always have to right? Who is he to decide what I should be doing?” But there was still some fear & I would generally comply with him. As I started maturing further, I started crystallising my own thoughts. I started realising why Dad did what he did, why he said what he said. There is no fear now. But there is respect. Why this respect? Because Dad has taught me…

....that you conquer your fears by facing them head on
Whenever we kids showed any signs of fear, he would immediately make us do the thing we feared as many times as it took to get rid of the fear. He always used to give example of Tantrics, & how they conquer their fears. He recounted how they lived in graveyards, how they drank from human skulls & how they lived a life that was unimaginable. He maintained that the so called power that they had was not of divine nature but the consequence of them living in those surroundings & just being too used to them to be afraid.

....that a broom has to be given as much importance as a pen
....why a mochi (cobbler) has to be treated with respect
A broom cleans your house. It removes the dirt in other places by dirtying itself. It serves a very important part in your life. Do not disrespect it. A cobbler makes your shoes that protect your feet. He charges money for something that you need. Treat him with respect. Some beliefs or practices of our past look down upon dirty things/people. People who used to be referred to as “Bhangi” or “Chamaar” were the ones who used to do all those essential but messy jobs that we wouldn’t dare do. Yet there was a general aversion to them. Dad taught me why it was important to respect them. I have & I always will respect all the cleaning women, dhobi’s (washer man), mochi’s, waiter’s with as much respect as I would any other person. I refer to them as “aap”. The only people I refer to as “tum” are my friends, my peers & my family who’ll know that the “tum” is the sign of closeness than disrespect.

....if you promised to be there at 8 pm, reach the place at 8 pm
I understand that there is a concept called “Indian Time” according to which it is customary to go from a half an hour to 1 hr late. Dad was always against this thing. This little issue was reason to many a war’s between my parents. He would be up & ready to reach the party in time, while she would start getting ready at the allotted time. I used to side with mother then, but now I realise why reaching when you are called is important. In fact being intentionally late is a form of hypocrisy - the one thing I absolutely detest.

....and many more…

My mother was the one who used to give support in times of distress, who used to give love, who used to be the one I liked. But it was my father who gave me one of the most important aspects of my personality – my value system. He followed his own ideals & was always the one with answers of life when there was indecision. Today I can safely say with no hesitance that I am proud of my father.