Posted by: saket71 | December 27, 2010

End of the Year pondering-2010

Towards the end of the year, on the verge of a change on professional front and further with activities limited by the foggy days, which are quite routine year-end schedule in Delhi, spending slightly peaceful days. It seems as if a train is chugging in to the platform to rest, as the year 2010 draws to the end. I always love winters, with due apologies to those who would with justifiable reasons will be cursing me, waiting for their delayed flights in Delhi and London and elsewhere, for the picturesque landscape which transcends on the city. In spite of the chill, which makes the task of getting up in the morning and coming down the stairs to get the two packs of milk for my little fairy very unpleasant, there is some warmth in to it. And for some reason, the warmth increases further with the degree of limitation of resources at the disposal. There is surely a charming and captivating warmth in the company of a bonfire created on the roadside (reminds of the nights in the College, in the football ground next to the Hostel, where we would sit through the nights around the fire), even the thought of it make me feel warmer and younger. Now, however, post-marriage domestication almost absolute, though wife would disagree and feels there is a long way to go before I could even be considered decently domesticated; still my thoughts of warmth in the summers hold good as my little one snuggles on to me on the couch in front of the television, under the blanket on the foggy Sunday afternoon. She watches her favorite Cebeebies and I watch her, with affection, as she slowly slips into her dream world of Iggle Piggle and Upsie Daisy, with the lids of her beautiful, ever friendly eyes, drooping over the moving compass to my life, that her eyes have come to be.  I stay awake many times, looking at her face in sleep, with so much of serenity, wondering what she must be dreaming about, during her sleeps on the nights. Would she be dreaming about Mowgli, Baalu and other friends or about her Maa and Baba?

This year saw me renewing my commitment to be more of what I can be, with once again getting back into writing, self-publishing my collection of essays (If Truth were to be Told) on the subject. There is also a sense of melancholy as I sit on the curtains to the year 2010, as the past with my daughter has been so wonderfully full of love. Her words are getting more and more coherent with each passing day, losing the inherent slur. Very soon, she will move out to the schools, and then she will learn to speak more and more clearly with every improving vocabulary, till the day when she will speak with the grace of the Gods and clarity of thought of the men who have faced the life in all its glory and trauma, and stop speaking to the old man.  My selfishness wants to believe that I would always be relevant to her, my learning in life tells me it cannot be so.  She has to grown beyond herself and beyond me, so that with every generation, life grows forward and upward. I do love and cherish her today for what she is as she hangs on to my shoulder, gently tapping on my shoulders as I tap on hers, trying to comfort her and put her to sleep. I was of late, talking a very young friend of mine, about sometime back when he told me, faced with some bad results on career building adventure which is a part of a stage of life, he had contemplated ending the trauma by ending the life. I thought of it and said, which I truly believe is true that every thinking man contemplates suicide at least once in his life, how so ever, illogical it may seem in the hind sight. When I was asked if I would expect same for my daughter and would I be so forgiving? I could only answer truthfully, is the sad part of life is that we forget our own growing up when we look and evaluate our kids growing up. I briefly saw a show on the television regarding some parents who were extremely annoyed to the extent of disgust, with their kids behavior, who said they would never wish anyone else to have a daughter like their own. They said so with such conviction that I felt that the only thin line which separate them from those parents who reach newspaper headlines with things like honor killing, is that they belong to a different society. Then I was looking at my daughter who burst into tears as she was admonished by her mother for jumping around so much that she might have hurt herself. To escape her ire, she came to me; but then she was hungry and would not take the bottle of milk from me, she wanted it from her mother. I was amazed and wished grown-ups could learn to separate incidents from the individuals. There could be incidents perpetrated by individuals which could hurt you, which you would be well within your rights to approve or disapprove of, but it is important to not the distinction that it is the act not the individual which is being judged.The incident where she was admonished, she did not like it a bit, but that dislike does not touch her love for her mother, whose warmth and comfort she needed and wanted, while she held her bottle of milk to her mouth. I wish, as years roll by, I could learn this sagacity to separate incidents from individual, and incidents would never dictate my feelings towards my daughter when she grows up, and secondly, I hope, I would also remember my own growing up, however foggily, so that I never come around to judge her from a high pedestal. As the year rolls by, I am more and more painfully aware of the pace at which time moves,  of the looming future of what sociologists call the empty nest, and hope I could maintain my sanity through the trauma which that event beholds for every father, with calm and composure; this is the way it will be, for this is the way it ought to be. I wish, without struggling to embarrassment to be relevant to your life in the years to come, I sit silently as the northern star, looking affectionately over to you as a guide, content and happy to see you become grow and become more of what you are, through the darkest of your night, as I wish you, my child a very happy new year, the third one that we welcome together. My eyes go moist as I write this but let this not weight your flight down as I want you to soar to the heights of human glory, in intellect and love, and hope my own knowledge will be able to inject enough strength into your wing to  stand the toughest of the weathers and wildest of the winds.


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