Pappa gets serious, again

This post is for my father.

Amidst the earth shattering chaos of C-sections and Cerelac formulae and sleepless nights and soiled nappies and sessions of physiotherapy and severe diet restrictions and sullen visits to paediatricians and strollers and swaddling and soul searching and sentences of solitude that follow the birth of a child, there is one small thing that everyone completely forgets and ignores and takes completely for granted. The Father.

Suddenly from being a care free, swear word spewing, living in the moment, irresponsible boy, he is expected to transform into an epitome of a role model. And for most part, he does. Sometimes he already is an epitome of a role model and doesn't need to change much. But instead of living in the moment , he now starts living in the future. Schools, Houses, Skills, Money, Health, Security and so many other things start playing on and overpowering his mind.

If he is lucky like me, he has most of the things sorted out thanks to all the opportunities his parents and near ones and society have given him and his spouse.

But in his mind and heart, he is terrified. He is afraid that his one wrong step will screw up an innocent little life and many more. For all the possibilities and optimism stories that he keeps telling the world and himself, he is desperately praying for wings to grow as he keeps jumping off cliffs.

His juggling act keeps becoming more and more complicated as more balls keep getting added and he keeps losing the option of dropping any of these balls; one by one. And in the process he keeps losing himself to the relentless beatings of time and circumstance.

So while he is out there fulfilling expectations, protecting everyone he loves and everyone who looks to him for security, there is a time and place in his vast wasteland of loneliness where he needs to be protected; not from the world or the forces of nature or divinity, but from the darkness of doubts and indecision and uncertainty, from his own self and what he may end up making of himself if he isn't.

I didn't know any better back then. I was too young. I'm sorry, for everything.

P.S: Thanks Roy.