A Way Out - Everytime

A small fun lesson turned the biggest learning of life

Being an army officer’s daughter meant, you have to be in control and lead a life of discipline. I mean, it is something ingrained within all of us. My father always wanted me to be self reliant, as much as possible. My sister is seven years younger to me and even she was subjected to a similar regime. Being the eldest of the two, I ended up being the person who would do things so that my sis could do the same, when her time came. But, my sister turned out to be the smarter one.

 

My father had a very peculiar habit. Well, at that time it appeared to be peculiar but now, when I look back, it is much more than just a fond memory. It is priceless. I would probably give an arm to get my childhood back. I am sure; there are a lot of people who would do the same. We also tend to love that part of our being, which is buried in the past. There is a weird sense of comfort in the past like …wearing an old tee. You know it so well, it even it fits you well too. We love our past because, we have been through it and since we know what happened, therefore we feel that if we could be there again, we could do better. “Baah, ignorant humans…ufff!!!” So, back to my father again and his habit.

 

“Aami Jodi toke eikhane chhede di, tui badi jete parbi?” (If I leave you right here, will you be able to go home?). This was like his standard dialogue or question that he had for me, throughout my childhood. I mean, whenever we encountered a bend in the road or some shady trees or the Sadar Bazaar, he would ask me this same question, over and over again, everytime.  I always wondered what fool he was, to ask me this same question when I knew the area like the back of my hand. Sometimes I would even tell him too, “Baba aami eyi raasta jani. Aami badi pahunche jabo” (Father, I know my way. So I will reach home). My Bengali has a very dominant Hindi twang to it. This is probably because both my parents speak good, flawless Hindi.

 

Before, I delve deeper, into my dad’s psyche, let me give you a brief intro about my parents. My dad is a Benarasi to the core and can speak gajab Bhojpuri. Unfortunately, I can’t, but can understand ektu ektu (little little). So, that is how we are UPites. Pravasi Bengalis. My mother, on the other hand, is again an army officer’s daughter. So …the Hindi is flawless and without the so obvious and at times downright embarrassing, Bengali influence to it. Therefore, when I we speak, I do not come across as a Bengali and leave people guessing at times.

 

Haan, so where was I? Ok, the question that my dad always asked me. Hmmm…so this was at times downright boring too because it would be the same question everytime. I guess, he too realized it after awhile and therefore each time the locations were new and difficult to remember. And each time, I kind of subconsciously programmed myself to remember the places around me. When confronted with this question, I would smartly try to tell him all that I could remember. And he seemed satisfied too. Now I really don’t know whether he really was or not, but he seemed so. There were times when he would tell about a few landmarks which I should have observed but had very clearly missed. The whole exercise was great fun but looked a little lame to me at times. Same question over a period of time and that too with similar answers; this was kind of a boring game to me. More than the answers it was the futility of an exercise that seemingly bore no results whatsoever. At least that is what it appeared to me at that point in time.

 

I particularly remember one such incident, when my father was posted in Meerut, in UP. Our house was a temporary accommodation which had a very eerie feeling to it. This house was so near to the railway tracks that the entire house vibrated like a cell phone whenever the train sped through the tracks. Baba and me would at times, walk on the railway tracks carefully avoiding s**t cakes and remains of the discarded food that the passengers threw. We would walk till kankarkheda. Though, it was a straight track with no bends but the area around was like a maze of houses some built in cement and some in some in tin sheets. Children, half clothed or even naked, ran about chasing cycle tires with sticks or playing marbles while the mother pig and her piglets happily snorted and grunted their way through heaps of stinking garbage, near half wet half dried swamps, buzzing with mosquitoes. In those days, dengue and their cousins of diseases were quite unheard of. All we knew was malaria and DDT was the most relevant answer to all of that. Clad in white kurta pyjamas and me in my frocks and chappals, I loved the walk that I took with my dad. I loved the way he would not inundate with probing questions like a ‘helicopter father’ but would let me quietly observe. Perhaps that’s why I like solitude so much and hate when I find someone asking me questions or trying to know me.

 

All this kind of stopped as I grew up; as I got involved in studies, friends and other interests and he got sidelined. Now it was no longer me and baba; the connection got buried under the sand gradually. Now he was no longer the man who I took walks with, but the man who I avoided because he gave some really dreadful lectures and like all adolescent kids I was in my most rebellious stages. Anything and everything told to me was like poison to my ears. I would simply refuse to listen, forget about understanding. Sparing minutes for parents was like a chore that I didn’t like. Ah! The futility of those adolescent ages when you are right and the world is up against you and how wrong it is all the time.  And now, it is the same me longing to be with my parents. But one day I will and that will be another story.

 

Now, when I think about it, maybe it was his way of making sure that his dear daughter would pay attention to the various landmarks that were there n the way and thus would never lose her way. He is one man in my life who would hate to see me losing or even losing track of my purpose or worth, for sure. It was his way of ascertaining that I would be on this little training of sorts from the very beginning. What seemed like a stupid foolish act on his part, made more sense when I grew up. Whenever I would get lost as in really get lost or lose track of myself I would remember him and be calm and start remembering my surroundings, those landmarks or those milestones from wherever my life turned to become worse. The confidence that he instilled in me years ago when I didn’t even know the meaning and the spelling too, has been with me throughout. In all these years I have never felt otherwise. Yes there have been times, I felt lost or realised that the sense of direction was leaving me, this little game that I played with my father reminded me of all that my father taught or try to put in that head of mine already occupied with fantasies, dreams and my own thoughts.

He taught me in his own way, never to panic and lose my mind. Instead I needed to be calm and find my way out. No matter how much time it took or whatever I had to face, I had to come out. I will walk out a little scarred perhaps, a little bruised may be, but I will find my way back home.

 

Reviews

[Tony Jordan]

A lovely snippet of life with more to it than meets the eye. Quite interesting.

[Mirror]

Your great talent is not just writing but also the ability to keep your audience reading and interested. That is the first thing i noted because i don't usually stay on a narrative. Too impatient.

The second thing is you are a natural. Natural flow and simple, day-to-day life narrative. I was inside the story, living it with you, just like a child looking up at Nanny on a bedtime story.

Third, appropriate use of vocabularies.Right words in right places in a simple tone that makes it easy for readers to learn without use of dictionary. Bravo, Unlike us with English as Second language.

Fifth, great story line. Great Lesson, “Aami Jodi toke eikhane chhede di, tui badi jete parbi?”
“Aami Jodi toke eikhane chhede di, tui badi jete parbi?” applies to everything including life choices. " Yes there have been times, I felt lost or realised that the sense of direction was leaving me, this little game that I played with my father reminded me of all that my father taught or try to put in that head of mine already occupied with fantasies, dreams and my own thoughts...."

"He taught me in his own way, never to panic and lose my mind" Moved me and made me appreciate my own parents too.

This is an excellent comprehensive writing. A good one to recommend for counselling, essay writing and so on. this is good for academic approach too. you have observed writing elements and tools.

Well done. This is a keeper.

[wordman]

well you learned a valuable lesson