The father's perspective

The child (who is now a grown up working in another town) is going to be home for a few days. The tantrums of teenage and the rebellions of early twenties are a thing of the past now. Distance has surprisingly made the child value his parents more than the past. The father is excitedly shopping for the favourite food items and the mother is busy with the culinary arrangements.

Finally the moment arrives when the child lands in the airport. Both the parents are equally excited but the child runs into the arms of the mother. After being ignored for full 15 minutes the father gets a nod from the child and an almost formal “How are you dad?”

The ride to home begins. Again the father tries to join in. But he has never been a conversationalist and fails to blend in. Moreover the child does not show much interest in sharing the details with him. Pained he looks out of the window admiring the trees as he has done for the past 25 years.

When lunch is served the father again puts forth another desperate attempt. “Isn’t the meat tender? What about the cauliflowers? And the ghee? I bought them from your favourite stores.” The answer he gets is “Yes daddy…they are all so delicious...you have no idea how much I have missed mommy’s cooking.”

After lunch the child unpacks and hands out a saree to his mother. He has brought a shirt for his father too. The father very happily accepts it only to notice that it had been bought by his wife who knew that as always that he would be forgotten and tried to protect his feelings.

Agonized the father retires to his room. The child does not dislike him but neither does he hold the post of confidante in his life. What did he do wrong? He was happy when the child was born. He had suppressed his mild resentment when his wife’s attention was stolen from him. He had slogged at a job he did not like to provide for the child. Yes he did not attend to the child for 24 hours during the formative years and yes his love for the child is no match for the overwhelming love that his wife harboured for the child. But in his own way he had loved his child and the emotional distance created despite that perplexed him.

Suddenly he heard raised voices from the bedroom. The mother and the child were fighting over something. Sensing an opportunity the father rushed in. Both of them hushed up at his sight. “What are you fighting over?” “Nothing,” said the child but the tone suggested “None of your business.” “Whatever it is you have my support” the father made another try. “Yeah, I know” the child replied in a monotone.

Hanging his head the father waddled back to his room and ensconced himself in solitude. He sighed and closed his eyes. May be if he tried harder he would be able to suppress the hurt.