I love you dad...

“Your passport sir?” the guy at the counter asked. I handed him my passport. Having verified it, he asked “Any more baggage Mr. Arnav?”.”No” I said. Soon I was sitting beside a mid-aged woman who looked nervous about her flight. As the flight took off, I was just staring through the window, when the woman asked, “I am Mrs Iyer. I am travelling to India to meet my son. And you?””I am Mr Arnav. I am travelling to India to meet my father.”. Before the lady could reply I stuck the headphones into my ears and closed my eyes. I was not spending this long journey talking. “Welcome to Bengaluru International Airport. We wish you a pleasant stay in Bangalore” the air hostess announced. I rushed to the exit. As I took my baggage and came out of the arrivals, Adi was waiting for me. We boarded his car and set off to my village. It would be a long 8hrs drive.

Cutting through the misty paddy fields we headed towards my childhood heaven, our village. This place was my oldest memory.  As we drove through the barn and came to a halt near an old fashioned house, all those memories came rushing back – the good and the bad times spent there. I didn’t know if I had to be happy for having had all the good times there or sad that they were just memories now. My home was reckoning me.

The rain Gods had shown no mercy since morning. The sound of frogs filled the air. I was never a big fan of the rain. So I was more than happy to stay in and soak in each and every minute that I was going to spend in my home. Most happy days of my life, my childhood, were spent here. Many memories were bundled with this place.

Leaving this house 11 years back was the hardest thing i ever had to do. When I’d got the admission letter from the US varsity for Undergrad course, i was the happiest soul on earth. I was very excited to go abroad. My father didn’t share the same sentiment though. But i was adamant. “The education system here is not as advanced as in the US. I want to experience that. I have never insisted on anything since childhood. I didn’t even ask about Mom. I want to see the world. Why do you have to get so sentimental for everything? I will be back in India after my studies. This is my dream. Please let me live my dream.” I told him at dinner, holding the admission letter in my hand. He quietly had his dinner and went to his room. The next morning i saw a note on my table. “Dear Arnav, if it means that much to you, go live your dream. I won’t stop you. Anyways I am going to the city now. We’ll talk once i am back from the city. You can start the preparations for your journey. I will be back by evening or tomorrow morning. Love, your Dad. ” There were no bounds to my happiness. My dream journey had begun.

We were at the airport. My father had come to see me off. I touched his feet, hugged him, told him to take care of himself and went in, with a thousand dreams in my eyes. I was at the check in counter when i saw him peeping through the glass doors. He waved with a smile on his face. I waved back. As i was waiting at the passengers’ lounge for boarding, I had a weird feeling, a sense of betrayal.  My eyes were wet.

That was 11 years back. Most of the things in my village had changed now. Internet broadband had already marked its entry into the village, though the speed was very questionable. Cell phone had become a necessity for almost every person in the village. For a village in which very few households had a landline phone during our childhood, this was a big change. I saw a few cars in the village, but in my days in this village, bus was the only luxury. But my home had remained the same. Dad had not done many changes to our home. It was the same courtyard where I played gulli danda with Aditya or Adi, my cousin. The same old photo frame with mom’s picture in it and which I had accidently broken when I was a kid, sat on the same old TV. “Nothing has changed”, i said to myself.

My old cupboard stood in the corner of my room. Back then, it held everything i owned – my books, my clothes, my school stationary, my secret love letters which never reached the recipients, my precious collection of Rahul Dravid pictures etc.  I opened the cupboard to find my dad’s stuff – his clothes, all neatly folded, and a few novels which he usually read. Among the novels were a few notebooks. I took them out and kept them on the table beside. Each of them had a year scribbled on them. I opened the oldest one.

2nd July, 1983

Dear Diary,

Life is like a hot air balloon. It always takes you to heights. You will always enjoy the ride, no matter how big the balloon is and how long the ride is. Today is the most memorable day of my life. Today my Son gave birth to a Father. The incredible feeling of being a father is priceless. The happiness you get when a tiny hand holds your finger should only be experienced. I promise you my son that will never let go your hand and i will be the best father. I will hold your hand tightly, forever. And, we will probably be naming him Arnav. It’s my wife’s suggestion.

“Oh, my father’s diary. Should i read it?” I thought. My father, to me, had always been a closed book. All I saw was a smiling face that always tried to keep my happy. I always wanted to know who he really was, what went through his mind. He would never mind I reading all this since it was all about the past. He would probably laugh at all his past incidents. I continued.

4th July, 1983

Dear Diary,

My son is a treat to watch. I can watch him whole day long. It’s so amazing how he holds on to my finger. There are people flooding the hospital to see him. The village hospital staffs are going crazy managing all these visitors. I just can’t get enough of Arnav. I wish i could stay and play with him the whole day.

8th July, 1983

Dear Diary,

Life is like a hot air balloon. The ride sure is fun but may suffocate you at certain heights. I am literally suffocating. My wife is no more. A complication which developed 2 days before could not be controlled and she passed away on the way to the city hospital. My little boy never got to see his mother. I don’t know how i will shield him from the absence of his mother. But one thing is for sure, I will never let my son miss his mother.

Even before I could learn about my mom, I had lost her. I could read no further.  I closed the book and went out. The rain had just begun to take its true form.

Returning from the stroll in our coffee estate, I saw Adi sitting in the verandah waiting for me. “Hey man. How are you doing? You must be missing this place like never before. And don’t go through the trouble of cooking here. Come over to my home. Mom will be preparing your favourites. You needn’t wait till dinner to come over. Come over whenever you feel like. It’s like your home dude. ”.” Sure man. It’s been my home too since my childhood. I’ll come in some time. Give my regards to Gayathri aunty.” I waved him bye and went inside. The aroma of fresh coffee welcomed me in. Adi had probably prepared it for me. I poured the coffee into a small steel cup and went back into my reading session.

I spent the whole afternoon reading my dad’s diaries. There was a part of me which was opposing this, but this was an opportunity for me to get to know him better. These diaries were a door to his mind, and moreover i was mature enough to understand all that. And more than anything else, it is human nature to get involved into things in which a person is not supposed to. I lost track of time as I was reading them. When I looked at my watch it was almost dinner time. I hurried to Adi house.

It was a delicious dinner at Adi’s house that night. Adi’s wife was sure a good cook. “Stay here tonight. We’ve met after so long. We have a lot to catch up.”, said Aditya, as we were sitting and chatting post dinner. “No, I have returned after such a long time. So I’ll sleep in my home for a few days. And moreover Dad must be waiting. I’ll go.” I said opening my umbrella. Adi exchanged glances with his wife and turned to me and said “In that case I’ll stay over at your place tonight.” I had no choice. As we walked back, we talked; in fact he talked. I could hear him talk but all I was thinking was about my time in this village back then. Cutting our way through the coffee plants, we reached my home. It was dark as forest. Rain had given way to cool breeze. “Dad is probably asleep by now” I thought. “We have a lot to talk tonight”, said Aditya. I affirmatively nodded my head and went inside. He made himself comfortable on the sofa and I sat on the chair with my legs over the hand-rest. Adi started the conversation, as was always the case, “Hey do you know that girl we both had a crush on?” “Aren’t we married?”, I asked. ”I know, but our wives are not here. So you need not be afraid of them. Anyways that girl got married some years back. And don’t worry, she was an elephant when she got married. I pity her husband man. And haan, talking of elephants, that drunken teacher from our school was killed in an elephant attack 3 years back. It seems he went to hit the elephant with a stick and in turn he was the one who got hit...”. And on and on and on.

Tin tin tin. The big clock struck three. “We better get some sleep. It’s been long since we started talking.” Adi said. I nodded in agreement, partly relieved that he was now feeling sleepy. Wishing him good night I went into my room but couldn’t sleep. I heard the clock strike four. Adi was in the deepest phase of his sleep, judging by his snoring from the hall. I just kept staring into the darkness.

“Arnav”, I heard my dad call me out. I got up and sat on the bed. Rain seemed to never get bored of doing its business. I got up, brushed and was back in bed with another diary. Turning to the first page I was wondering why I wanted to read it so badly.

Dear Diary,

Today while running around in the house, Arnav broke his mother’s photo frame. I had warned him of this many times before. But his mind is all set on the play. I was mad at him at that moment. I gave him a good beating. But i guess it’s not completely his mistake. He doesn’t still know why he has to respect a few things. He is too young to understand. He loves his mother a lot and didn’t do it on purpose, but he should start respecting the photo. I felt bad about beating him. Will go to his room and console him now.

I remember how my dad had come to my room that night and explained me how i had to respect a few things and start behaving decently. I was not sad that I’d broken the photo frame but i was mad at dad for beating me. But he managed to cheer me up.

Our childhood was so much fun. Many things which seemed so complicated then, seemed so silly now.

Dear Diary,

Today my son was acting weird. He was so silent today during dinner. Like afraid of something. I think he was busy studying for his term exams. So to cheer him up, i got him a new pair of dress. He has never asked for any new things himself, so thought would give him a small surprise. Seeing the excitement in his eyes after wearing his new dress was so good. What happiness new things bring to these kids.

When we were kids Aditya, Raju, Satish and I would gather daily to play cricket during evening near Raju’s house. That day Satish came a little late huffing and whispered something in Raju’s ear. They both looked at each other as if somebody told them they’d failed their exams. “Them?” Raju pointed at us. Satish nodded his head signalling it was ok to tell us. I had now started to think that I had failed in exam too. Raju explained us the plan. Accordingly, we cancelled that day’s cricket, went to Satish’s house. Satish’s brother opened the door and went into his room. We entered, locked the door and sat in front of the TV. Satish’s parents were nowhere to be seen. As soon as we started the TV, a loud aah ooh started. Immediately Satish’s brother came out and muted the TV and gave an angry young man look to him. Apparently Satish’s brother had got hold of a blue film video tape from the city through his friend. Satish had caught his brother while watching it at home when their parents were out. So to keep that a secret, his brother had offered Satish to watch the movie provided he didn’t tell their parents. So as soon as his brother finished watching the movie, Satish came running to call us for the movie. It was a first time for all of us. I watched the whole movie and went home straight after that, without talking to anyone. I was kind of embarrassed at myself and was afraid my father would find out about this. I didn’t talk to him that day. The evening, i came from play, freshed up and went into my room to study. I saw a new pair of dress in my room. I turned back and saw my dad smiling from the door. I ran and hugged him.

I had reached the end of this book. I took another diary and continued my reading.

Dear Diary,

Arnav is going on a tour with his classmates. It’s the annual school tour. All the places they are visiting are the places which he has already seen. So I told what was the need for him to go. But he was adamant. He wants to enjoy the trip with his friends. Kids grow up so fast. I remember the days when he used to listen to whatever I said. But as they grow, kids will want to do stuff they want rather than just listen to us. That’s the same with all the kids anyways.

I remember it was at dinner that I had told dad about the school trip. I was so excited about the trip, but dad refused it straight away. But I was not ready to take no for an answer. I shouted and made a scene. He had no choice but to relent. I was happy at what I had accomplished. It was like winning a war for me, my freedom struggle.

Dear Diary,

There is good news. Just had a talk with Arnav. He is coming here. But not permanently. He says he has to go back. I told him he can find a job here with his qualification, at least in our village, but he says it’s complicated and not as easy as it seems. I tried persuading him as much as I could, but couldn’t. Anyways I don’t want him to stay here against his wishes. Let him be wherever he wants, I just wish he is happy. After kids become adults they can think better. So you can’t meddle in their lives too much. You are more of a spectator than an active advisor. I am planning to get him married to a girl from our village when he comes, because he probably won’t be coming back for another few after this time. Anamika, I think is best suited for him. She is intelligent, beautiful, calm and sophisticated. I feel she is the perfect match for him. I have talked to her father and he is more than happy with the match. Arnav also has given initial consent last time when we talked. We’ll finalise after he comes.

It was Christmas time and the city was bustling with life. I was out taking a stroll when dad had called and told about this girl from village. Initially I was a little sceptic, in fact I was not at all ready for marriage and that too with a village belle. But Adi had already sent me her photo and after looking at her, it was like love at first sight. You know people say whenever you come across your right person, you will feel the same – time pauses for a moment, you can see no one but that person, in some cases all the filmy effects like wind carrying her dupatta, etc. etc. It was like that. The moment I saw her, I knew she was my perfect match.

When I came home, my dad arranged a meeting with Anamika’s family and before we knew, marriage date was finalised. I was nothing but happy with the pace of things going on. That was the only holiday when I was returning to the US happily.

Dear Diary,

It’s been a long time since I have been with Arnav. They have visited me only once after the marriage. Well they sure are busy in their lives. Old age is the worst part of a man’s life. But the happy news is Anamika is expecting. Arnav told me the news yesterday. Just the thought of becoming a grandpa is so exciting. It feels like just yesterday when I remember Arnav was born.

Spring had just set in in this part of the world. So Anamika and I were planning a vacation to Hawaii. I was busy surfing the net collecting details for the trip when Anamika told she was not feeling good. As a precaution we went to our family doctor for a check-up. After some routine tests, the doctor came and told me” Mr Rao, congratulations, you are about to become a father. Your wife is pregnant.” There were no bounds to my happiness. Anamika was coming out of the doctor’s chamber. I went and hugged her. There was a cute smile on her face. I looked at my watch, it was almost 10am. I thought it wouldn’t have been late night in India and dialled my dad’s number. When I told him the news, there a moment of silence. He didn’t know how to react. He was so excited to be a grandpa.

Dear Diary

I am a grand pa. Anamika has given birth to a little boy. My visa is not yet done, else I was supposed to be with them long back. I don’t know why do there have to be so many procedures. I will be leaving as soon as I get my documents. Adi is helping me out in this. These procedures, visas, passport seem so complex to us. The moment I get all the documents I’ll be leaving. Just can’t wait to see them and hold the little boy in my arms. Arnav had sent his pic and he looks so cute. I can keep looking at him whole day. I have packed a whole bag of stuff for my little grandson.  I just can’t wait to get there.

I flipped through the further pages. They were blank. Keeping the book aside I went into the verandah. The rains had given way for drizzle which was now being carried into the verandah by the cool wind. I was surprised at having seen a completely different side of my father

All these years I had compromised a lot, or at least I thought so. Avinash, whose father owned a big coffee estate, had a cycle, which I got to ride only in exchange for doing his homework. Preetam, whose father was a bus conductor, got to travel in luxury buses because of his father but I had always take the old, crowded, rusty buses to the city. I always thought why couldn’t I enjoy all those stuff. I always thought I had suffered a lot. I was consoling myself for the experiences I hadn’t had as a child but never did I thank for the wonderful memories I had back then. In the process of complaining about the non-existent past and not so perfect future, I had forgotten to enjoy the present and wonderful memories of past. My father had worked hard to make this memorable past a good one, which I was realising now, after becoming a father myself. Only after I held my son for the first time did I realise how much my dad had worked to make my childhood and life better and I had never thanked him for this. I was too busy making my family’s future, dad included, better and forgot that as I was getting old and so was my dad. They say that old people are like children. I wanted to but never found time to support my “child”, at a time when he needed me the most.

When the Dr. David came and told me that I was the proud father of a baby boy, I dialled dad’s number. My dad was obviously nervous, having called me around 15 times in the past 45 minutes. I took a picture of all the three of us, and mailed it immediately to Adi to show it to dad.

My son was 10 days old when we came home. We were just welcoming our new member to our home when I received a call from Adi. I knew I had lost my chance – chance to thank my dad for making my childhood a memorable one, chance to thank my dad for making my life whatever it was, and a chance to support him and making him my son for the rest of my life. From then till now, my mind still refused to acknowledge his absence. I could hear him call me out in morning to wake me up. The narrow footpath that cut across the paddy fields still had his fresh footsteps. The books that I just read had not been touched very long ago by him. I could still feel his kiss on my forehead, when I went to bed. And now I knew that only the feeling had remained. I wanted to reciprocate but I knew the answer. All I could think was “I love you dad.”