I am one of those elusive kids who find time to speak to their parents while going from one place to another in a cab. Or when they have some work to get done by them.
And each time the conversations last forever and the next few minutes post the phone call, immense guilt pangs hit heart over inadequacies of communication in many other days.
Today was one such day.
I randomly picked up my phone and dialed his number. The fact that there was a fifteen minutes old message in my phone which read ‘very busy it seems‘ had some effect, one cannot tell. But the thirty minute impending cab ride was surely a motivator, we can say.
And one hour later we had exchanged all our views from Smriti Irani to JNU to obviously Jat protests. At the end of it he simply said, ‘life kaisi hai par’, and we both laughed. Because this is how many of our conversations pan out.
Religion, country, politics (lots of it!), cricket and at times even an odd memory here and there. Dad has been more of a friend than parent always. A friend who was deeply interested in who I was dating at all times 😀
But yes, a companion.
I recently came across an article on my Facebook timeline : Why do we teach girls that it’s cute to be scared?
Instantly I thought of him. He would have thrown his hands up in the air and sighed.
Bringing up two daughters in a 90s world was a task.
Cute and scared. Both of these were off the table in our house.
I often come across blogs, websites journals and videos on good parenting. And it is very heartwarming to see that many express the need for parents to let go. Allow children to explore their own ideas and ways.
My parents were probably the ones who ghost wrote these lectures back in 90s.
We had no curfews. We had no ideologies to stick to. We didn’t even have religion as a yard stick to teach good ways.
We simply had one brief to live by. If it seems right to you, go ahead.
That was a lot to take in one childhood. And hence we had to back it up. By being aware, reading, knowing whatever there was to know to grow. Evolve. Understand.
And of course we had them at dinner table throwing funny questions at us.
“Do you think this government is doing enough for schools?”
There was no escaping with silence. Our family didn’t have canes to discipline us, they had those steely gazes.
Even today if we meet once a year and there is a discussion (which is always so!) around politics and one of us doesn’t know the correct facts (which is necessarily my sister), there is a ‘youth of this country will drown us’ discussion.
This post is for the man who is stored in my phone as ‘daddy cool’. May the many times over I get him to father me in coming lives. Cause I don’t want it any other way 🙂