My Father…

I looked at him. The reality sunk in. He is the one who held my index finger and introduced me to normalcy. That normalcy of life which a motherhood would fear. I remember vividly, how he gave up to our demands and ensured we were always happy, being aloof of atrocities he faced. I literally peed in my pants when I saw his big goggling eyes, indicating novice sins and childhood glitch he wouldn’t agree off. I saw his gazing smile in astonishment on the task I did that I could do never before.

But there was a time when I wanted to be anybody than him. I questioned his ability and alibi to protect me. I was weak and nimble but hardly I realised what is upon him to be the way or change the way he was to us. I regret why my ears were filled with one sided affair. I regret why I allowed it to prevail and surmount the hate that I may choke to live within.

I wonder why I failed, failed to understand what had homed his head. Perhaps He was fighting a fight that nobody cared. He may have committed mistakes and blunders but who doesn’t do? The only thing that separates him from the rest that he multiplied it and grew.

I realise the golden days and comfort in childhood that he provided, surpasses all his flaws. He took very good care of us that ever we could have thought. No doubt, I dearly want those days to rush back in, relieving me from the pain that I may have got in.

Today, he took some time out to meet his Son’s Son, who reminds him of his own father. Perhaps he is missing his fatherly moments. Missing his chance he could have had with his own father. Perhaps… But he will always stay my father.

Now, when I see him through the door waiting for the lift to get aboard, my heart pinches me and calls for the hug that is due for so long. He has turned so weak, physically, indicating his weariness that an age would call. I dearly hope to get to see him forever and not once in a while.

Sometimes he shares the glare – ‘of a father to a father’ with me. It says thousand unsaid things which a father could understand and comprehend. I am not the one to judge how fair he has been to my mom, how well he could have been for her. He stays my FATHER without whom I could never have been.

He turned left watching me watch him before the lift open it’s door. That is enough to indicate – I have done my bit now it’s your turn to hit.

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Author: Manish

I am on a spree to catch my three Musketeers - ‘Read, Write and Repeat!’, Have a strong grip on the First and Last combined (Read & Repeat) but still left to tie all three together (as a process). Hope to achieve this through ‘Moving Notions’, a string of random thoughts as a step towards reflecting me as an aspiring WRITER!

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