Ok, here is an ode to the next known person when we enter the world.
The father.
Addressed by different salutations, it could be Dad, Pappa, Appa, Baba, Nana or just simply Pa. This person starts influencing your life even when you were yet to arrive in this world. That's the time when suddenly the world realises the significance of prenatal learning by the great Pandava warrior Abhimanyu. And once you arrive in this world, all screaming and kicking, this is the person who beams from ear to ear and goes crazy, beating his chest to world and declaring, "I am a father now...I have a brood...My family is complete... wohooo"
Throughout the infancy and then childhood, this person plays different roles. Right from waking the tired mother because the baby needs a feed, to the after-feed burping, to rocking during colic, supporting through those wobbly steps, the tripping followed by scooping up, bedtime stories...the list is endless. And then the school days, followed by homework helping, difficulties, the decipherable pride when the child does well, and also the dejection when it is not so. And somewhere there is the pampering with a clandestine chocolate or even an ice-cream.
I tried to write a post on different types of fathers, but could not succeed. Mainly because the father remains a bit secondary in the Indian scenario when it comes to the upbringing of the child. His focus is his workplace as he is a primary breadwinner (in the Indian scene: I don't know about the west) My early memories of my own father are the ones wherein he always shielded me from Mom during my pranks (not that I did many) He had a lot more patience than her, always trying to understand what I wanted to say. As I grew up, I was a pukka daddy's girl...he made my favourite snacks, packed my tiffin box, plaited my hair, dressed me and dropped me to the school. I insisted on his presence everywhere. "Mujhe Pappa chahiye..." used to be my standard chant when I was sick. Once it was time for my vaccination and Mom simply gave up on me. Pappa calmly picked the syringe, asked me to turn around and gave me the injection in a matter of fact way. And I never realized it.
Then my little sister came on the scene. And my parents quickly re-learnt the meaning of trouble. She could single handedly manipulate my parents, my servant-maid, my grandparents and not to say our neighbours, all at the same time. As a baby, she would crawl in all the possible crooks and crevices of our home and get into impossible situations. Including getting locked in a cupboard during a game of hide and seek, then gulping down some phenyl (thinking it to be duddu) and jumping in the deep end of the swimming pool without floating support. My mom revised the definition of the term "prankster" and set up new specifications to the normal parameters to include my sister. By this time the parenting options were limited to my Mom and our servant maids, as pappa became too busy with his surgeries. We hardly saw him. He came home when we were fast asleep and we left for school when he was that way (snoring and supine). Sundays were spent in the company of newspapers, shopping, errands and the computer.
We shifted back to Mumbai and bonded never like before with our grandparents. My grandmother is a great cook and Mom was glad to offload our demands to her. Pappa became all the more busy and Mom used that baton to coax us into sub-ordination. "Do this or else I will tell Pappa" Or even better, "Don't do this, and I won't tell him..." Me, my sister and Mom watched KTLK regularly and made posts, predicted things like "Kal kya hoga? Rohan aur Anjie kya karenge? Yeh Ashutosh ke shirt main thoda itching powder daal denge kya? Dadi Bua ke pressure cooker ki seeti bhi aise hi bajti hogi na...Manhooos?" Mom giggled like us, frowned at difficult maths sums, talked about everything on the planet...in general, we shared a great rapport with her. I told her all the gossip that my friends could never even dream of sharing with their moms. Including the boyfriend-dating scenes that some of my colony friends shared with me and sworn me to secrecy. But somehow I had to tell her, she was that sort of a person.
Then one day she was no more. After a long battle in the hospital, I still remember Pappa hugging both of us and crying. For so many days, we were just lost. So many visitors...they came to us, hugged us, offered condolence and asked if we needed anything more. We just screamed internally, "leave us and our father alone...he is the only one we have!" There were so many rituals, so many relatives in the house then. One fine day our Principal Madam came home to speak to him along with mine and my sister's class teachers. That day he realized what all he had missed so far. He started bonding back with us, went through our textbooks, solved the maths sums and drew diagrams for biology. We shifted to Singapore and the bonding only re-inforced further. Today every Sunday he switches off his cell phone, with strict instructions to his PA (do not disturb unless absolutely necessary) and we do all the chores of the house together. We cook together, laundry and clean the utensils. Afternoons are usually with a movie, or a puzzle or a long drive or lunch somewhere outside. We listen to music together, have late night-outs with coffee making session, guffaw out loud...but somewhere I can sense a tremendous vacuum. He stares for hours together at Mom's photo. Maybe he is asking her "whether I am doing the job right? Am I being a good parent? Are my daughters happy?" If my mom can hear me right now, I would just say one thing.
He is the bestest father in the world. He means everything to us and we to him...
Friends, please contribute generously...
Book Talk
Anupamaa
