I've recently had the misfortune of having to endure listening to extremely disparaging, unfounded, unwarranted, and blatantly false things about my and Atman's upbringing. By folks who are supposedly my well wishers. By folks who have no idea about what my past was like. Ironically, it was something that my father taught me some 25 years ago, a couple of years before he died, that made me let it go and not react. While the whole episode will not be forgotten, it led to a good riddance moment of sorts for me.
But it also reminded me of how much I still miss my father, even after 23 years of his passing. I remember his voice, what he looked like, and the things that he taught me and how they've shaped my life.
My father taught me to fight for what I believed was right (and as its corollary, being open to being proven wrong, and apologizing when in the wrong and mending ways). He taught me that freedom of one's own spirit was worth dying for and worth going to war for - with one's own self, family, and the entire world.
He taught me to be progressive. For him, respect was a result of achievement and admiration, not of age or authority. He never expected blind obedience from me and expected me to call out inconsistencies in his behaviour. Almost nothing was Taboo to him - he introduced me to my first double entendre jokes, swear words (although he never used swear words in conversation), alcohol, and centerfolds in addition to math and music. He believed that his son should be able to share everything with him. I now think it was something that he didn't find in his father, and maybe also saw this as an effective way for me to avoid falling in bad company.
Lastly, he gave me my love for books. Mom should get equal credit for this too. But he bought me my copy of Atlas Shrugged at age 11 (crazy, right?). Maybe he knew he wouldn't be around when I needed to read it, so this was advance preparation.
I wish, as a father, I can pass on these things to Beckett.
My father was a loving man, mostly gentle, but firm and stern on fundamentals. But he had a dark side too. He was a free spirit bogged down by the responsibilities and expectations of family from a young age. He was a free spirit trapped in a closed economy in the 80s and early 90s. He was a free spirit trapped in a regressive and corrupt society. And although it was a minor road accident, and the horrific subsequent medical negligence* that killed him, I still believe, it was the inability to break free that did him in.
When I look back on the last 23 years of missing him, how the things he taught me shaped our lives, the things I've had to learn myself and teach Atman, and my desperate search for father figures, I feel immense gratitude for Sanjay Fua, Kalpen Maasa, and my manager at Mahindra Mr. Sharma - for showing me compassion when I needed it the most, for showing me the mirror when I needed it the most, for teaching me how to embrace conflict, for turning me into a life long student, and for being my father in spirit when I needed one.
Happy Father's Day Pappa ! I miss you, this year more than usual.
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* I lost my father to blatant medical negligence where the doctor missed tell tale signs and didn't order requisite tests. Last year I almost lost my mother because of ill advice from another doctor who asked us to ignore certain test results.
Medicine is a sketchy science that is based on incomplete knowledge, guesswork, and now a days massive commercial interests.
There is nothing more pathetic and pitiful than a pompous doctor who is out of touch with the latest research and findings talking you down on topics where you have read tomes of material and definitely know more than them.
The good ones talk to you, agree with what is right in your points, and when flawed, help you understand the inconsistencies.
The bad ones pull the age and authority card, something my father always warned me against. Get rid of them as early as possible.
