“At the temple there is a poem called “Loss” carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it.”
– Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha
“Sometimes when I cry, I cry not because I’m weak, I cry because I’ve tried to be strong too long and I’m still human. The day I’ll stop crying, it will be only of two reasons: either I would have been grown weak or I’ll not be human”
– Bhuvi M, Tapestry of Life & Soul
By Bhuvi M
A man who had been my Pillar of Existence, it is his birthday today, a man who had been invisible source of my strength, man whom I loved the most, a man who is cherished forever in my life, a man who never grew beyond 1960’s. He is no other than my father. He loved Denis the Menace, Dara Singh Movies, Doctor (film series), medicine, poetry, books, silk scarves, playing squash, swimming, save the girl child and learning technological changes. The nerves of steel, core of wax he had been compassionate all through his life.
It was from him I inherited physiological features. Any of his friends or class mates whom I met in his absence, have easily recognized me as his daughter. My childhood pictures resembled so close to his; he quite often used to get confused identifying them. He taught me importance of female education; strict advocate of gender equality; taught me building Lego, to polish my shoes; English; interests in literature, poetry, books, reading, writing, carving out identity, independence, taking decisions, being fearless, freedom of speech, importance of trying; he often said “One should always try however uphill it seems, you never know it can be a fraction of chance that you may succeed. Without trying you are sure it is 100% failure.” So true was this statement; it made me try lot of things which seemed to be difficult. Now I look back and realize they were worth trying.
Few more things I learnt from him; to be modest even if born with a silver spoon and raised as a prince, respect people for what they are, to live and let live. But he never realized that there is a fraction of society which thrives on derailing peace and harmony, there is an existence of “Satan”, Mr. Hyde with Dr. Jekyll. He never could foresee them while he grew up; may be it was not taught to him by his parents or teachers. Accepting it had been a disappointment for him for a major part of his adult life.
“Child is Father of the Man” the proverb coined by William Wordsworth which means people’s personality forms when they are children. I’m taking liberty to interpret and use this expression differently; when the man grows old, his children play the role of the father. The child, who is now a grown up person, takes care of old man the way he had cared and reared them in their growing up years, instilling values, passing on the baton of culture. The life comes to a full circle. He was my pillar of existence. On the contrary my siblings and I were his “Pillar of Existence”, his source of strength, joy, happiness, life mystified. I had seen his eyes glinting with affection when his children were along with him. Without demanding he just wanted us to be around. We had been a ray hope for him to continue with his fight of existence.
I pay tribute to you; my dear dad on your birthday for my existence is carved out of yours. I would have never existed without your existence. I don’t get a chocolate cake for you anymore, I miss the family gathering, miss calling you up to wish you….but I wish you from the silence of my heart. Happy Birthday Dad!!