Today evening when i was returning from my classes, i saw this proud father trying to help his teen-something daughter learn bicycle. The kid was losing her balance while trying to pedal. But of course the father wouldn’t let her fall. There was this sense of satisfaction n pride on his face. She was struggling so hard to keep the balance n pedal at the same time and just wasn’t successful even once, i felt so bored looking at that in just sometime, but look at this – her father never once gave up on her and obviously wasn’t bored! Every time she lost the balance he would quickly move n keep her from falling, teaching and correcting her every time even when she committed the same mistakes over and over again, i mean look at the kinda patience and dedication fathers have. This girl was damn terrified and tensed, as oppose to that her father was quite calm and patient, never once bored.
Yesterday at office they had some kids carnival, quite a lot of employees had got their kids along. Mark, my colleague, had got his kids too. The way Mark is every day at work, much in contrast to that, he was so different. Every day we see Mark as just another person, but yesterday we saw different facet of him, a typical-father, who’s taking immense pride in introducing his daughters to each of his colleague, really happy when they received compliments. Hmm… Fathers!
I came home, and as i sat back on the sofa, memories of those old days came rushing, when Dad had helped us learn the bicycle, when dad used to help us with the homework. When his small gesture of appreciation to that childish “sun-mountain-river-hut” picture used to make me feel like a great artist. When he made this daddy’s-little-girl feel like a princess on her birthday. The enormous pride on his face when he saw me performing at school. The defensive attitude when the neighbors complained about my mischeivious behavior. When he looked after and took care of me when I was down with a simple cold and fever. When he used to scold me, for my good, while teaching me math (I am bad with math 😦 till date!)
I still remember when i was a small kid n had major trouble looking at watch n understanding the time, Dad had made me sit on his laps, made me look at his wristwatch, introduced me to the “seconds-hand”, “minute-hand” and the “hour-hand”, made me count till 60 n i saw the minute hand move! First thought its some magic which Daddy darling does, he then explained how the time moves on, when n how the hour hand moves, and I remember I used to sit for hours together, amused by this watch-thingy n waiting for the hour hand to move. Those are the best-ever days of one’s’ life, am sure most of us will agree with that. Must be really a nice feeling to be a parent, but a lot troublesome too, i guess!
Memories of this and all other things took over my mind and I just sat there for God-knows how long, thinking about those sweet memories of the good old childhood days.
Thank you Dad, for everything ….. !!!
Miss you dearly Dad !!