OF A DAD AND HIS BOY : A BELATED FATHER'S DAY BLOG

  Jun 20 2008  | Views 332 |  Comments  (24)
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( Fathers are different from mothers.Loving yet distant authority figures,deliverers of answers,stern , given to sudden anger not easily relatable to recent events!Most kids of the retro era and their dads grew up in a world of masculine adages: boys don't cry;guys don't display emotion in public ..yup no PDA !! Very few guys have blogged about their Dads- this one is for my Dad- delayed because it was difficult - you know me- I'm the quintensential retro ,old fashioned tough guy- hence pretty difficult to write about the head honcho ..anyway here goes!!)

The earliest memories are of riding atop the mobike tank,holding on to the huge petrol tank cap ..feeling the wind whip by;the twinkling lights of the Panki Power Station near IITK in the far distance,waiting for the train at the crossing prior to entering the campus ..and always the reassuring feel of Dads hands ..periodically checking on me ,making sure I was alright.


Fair,exceedingly so,long glossy black hair,sideburns and a cigarette(camels) stuck on his lips.Hershey bars and dollar bills alongwith the B'day card all the way from US of A.Being dropped to school when he was home for a break.I remember my holiday breaks , time spent toghether  during the summer and winter breaks.Sumptuous breakfast ..whipped cream with jam and lots fruits laced generously with honey.Thick salami sandwhiches and Kwalitys Softy at the Mall Road.Freedom to roam and romp,create hell and invent God knows what all .. a rubber powered paddle boat, aeromodels.. and fantastically memorable Diwali celeberations that never seemed to end until it was time to go again.

Booming laughter when I ran around the house screaming fire after drinking Vodka thinking it was water,fascination at those perfectly round smoke rings he would puff out on being pestered.Lots and lots of books to read..I read the history of europe when I was 8..did not understand all of it ..but was enthralled with the feel of it.Listening to passionate discussions on literature,free speech,satire ,humour and democracy ,from the sidelines.Of getting to know great works,their creators,their geniusand their foibles;like being in the presence of a walking talking encyclopedia.

The hiding of certain books( on marx and the like) during the emergency,of being told thatin democracy it is always the will of the people ,as to why certain editorials were blank pages and why he would never patronise certain publishers as they bowed when all that was required was to bend!

Tolerance for my craze for collecting gunpowder from old fire crackers to devise gigantic ones ,used finally to blow up dams and bridges made in the garden ,destroying anyhope for the forlorn lillies planted by mom.Just a sigh for the litter of numerous bits of thermocols spread around wildly after a bout(very frequent) of designing gliders and delta winged swifts.Of a gentle yet firm No! to the python purchased from the snake charmer and the release of the turtle named Hitler into the IITK central cooling pond.

I think he never realised that I had experimented about making Nitro cellulose for rocket fuel as part of my man on the moon mission! Cooked up in the store room basement..it was the coolest spot at home..was it succesful-- hell it scared the pants off all the cows and the thing flew- my lips are sealed as to whose house the remains landed in!!

Adolesence and teens were pretty trying for both of us.We did not approve of the sartorial preferences of the other.Music too was an issue.Angry exchanges,sarcasm laced conversations,threats for goofing off ..pretty intense and dramatic ..yet when I landed up in the ICU after a head injury sustained during an idiotic diving attempt.. he was there to read me the "Hunchback of Notre dame"( I couldn't focus my eyes),hence my partiality to QUASIMODO as a monicker here on Sulekha.

The journey also included attending movie shows at the La Montage reviews,being exposed to some of the greatest films ever,of watching BV Karanth direct Hanoosh,seeing the entire procees of theatre unfold with the Pagla Ghora and so many more..during the muggy summers of Kanpur.The icing on the cake were the explanations about the themes,the nuances that magnified a good story into a great one.

Discussions on wodehouse,shakespeare and Biggles coalsced into one mind boggling literary feast.Discussions on why we  Indians were an immature nation.. because we were uncomfortable with humour directed against us;how our comedies rarely showed true humour and were mostly about gags and snide remarks about regions,religions and caste stereo types.

It takes some doing parenting a very rebellious brat prone to being seen smoking openly(heaven help us ..those were the 80s) returning late..very late regularly ..of endless night outs spent jamming and high flying on all types of intoxicants available,managing reports of visits by desirable and undesirable friends of the opposite sex at odd hours..but he did it ..with testy impatience,threats ,humour ,sometimes indifference and largely with surprising frankness that forced a rethink ( I'd like to think so in retro:)) ).

Oh yes there were silent monitoring trips to the culfest to see the brat belting out some horribly loud and unitelligble rock number,standing silently during cricket matches,willingly checking the solutions to the guess papers for Eng Lit and Pol Sc ..but a flat No for Eco!!  No pressure to stick to PCM and become an Engineer ..but encouragement to follow dreams.Not a sign that he even noticed my earings and sideburns(very Rad for early 80s..that too in Kanpur..which btw was a little hick back then).

So was it all sunshine..nope ,nyet .it wasn't and isn't ..why ..I guess we are two exceedingly strong minded guys with our own concepts of right and wrong and so with passage of time ..actually this was with very little passage of time,... we decided to disagree but talk!

In retrospect ,I know that I owe my Dad for giving me plenty of space and opportunities to become what I wanted to be.. maybe that is the reason why I have never found a hill that I couldn't climb ( always with the help of my family and friends though).

It really is very difficult to write a Fathers day blog ..they don't lend themselves readily to the huggable dearie image.. you know they have their sharp corners,testy remarks ,reserved hugs(that has changed after I got reasonably settled),always in the background,somehow  lost in translation.. but very important..So Dad here is to you ..a belated Happy Father's Day from your boy..thanks!!!

(I couldn't cross the teens ..so here is to the next year ..lets hope that we  are toghether )














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