The quiet strength of a father
Dads being strict disciplinarians, offspring often gravitate towards their moms. This gives all mothers a huge sense of triumph and a little sense of frustration to all fathers,” the eternal bachelor-boy Sir Cliff Richards’ pithy observation holds water.
More often than not, the silent contribution of all dads goes abegging and unacknowledged by the children, much to a little sadistic satisfaction of mothers! Only in retrospect do we realise and understand the fatherly affection which is often undemonstrative. But it’s no less than that of a mother’s rather cloying affection.
Raised by my taciturn dad as a single parent, I understood this after his passing away in 2014. When he was alive, I always thought that he was completely bereft of all emotions. Alas, I was sadly mistaken. Though he hardly betrayed any emotion, his heart wasn’t deprived of love and affection. A neurologist, he never imposed his will on me that I should follow suit and become a medico. So, when I evinced interest in studying languages and religions, he never stopped me, though he was indeed clueless as to why I opted for a diametrically opposite stream as a career.
His non-interference enabled me to pursue my interests. At this age and stage of my life, when I look back, I don’t forget to send a silent note of thanks to my father. Unlike most fathers, especially in the Indian context, he was non-interfering. Parents often impose their whims and vagaries on their children. If your dad is a doctor or engineer, he’ll surely want his child to become like him to perpetuate the family tradition! Fortunately, this didn’t happen in my case. I got full freedom to translate my outlandish dreams into realities.
With age, I’ve felt that a doggedly disciplinarian dad strikes a perfect balance in the family. There’s a famous Scottish adage that a disciplinarian dad and a doting mother raise their kids in the most balanced manner. It was my strict dad who also inculcated in me the love for books as he had an enormous collection of books and magazines. I always saw him pore over books. He also encouraged me to watch classics and listen to the best of music, be it western or Indian. He was a connoisseur of western classical music.
My dad honed my tastes to make me an epicurean. On Father’s Day, which also happens to be his birthday, I pay a tribute to him in the words of English poet Robert Southey, “My cheeks have often been bedewed/With tears of thoughtful gratitude.”
Thanks a ton, dad! I remember you with tearful eyes.
