TamilNadu CM Karunanidhi plans to retire from politics by the mid of next year. He will be transferring power to his son and planning to dedicate all his time in writing and social service. Hope he will keep his promise.
In my opinion, MK is the most responsible father in the world. From three wives, he has a few children and out of this, three are in politics. All these ‘children’ are decently placed in various positions. This responsible father goes to any extent to ensure that his children’s future is secured. Remember the images of a concerned father visiting New Delhi a few months back to plead the case of his eldest son and daughter with the Madame? He must be a role model to all we fathers.
But Vinod’s father was a serious stuff. He was in fact a terror. Vinod, as any one in our gang always preferred to freak around. In all our leisure times, he was an unavoidable part. But, if his father spots him anywhere outside, he immediately breaks a stick from the nearby fence and starts beating Vinod. We all used to feel pity of our friend and angry on this terrorist father. Vinod’s elder brother too was a constant victim of this terror till a small mush grew over his upper lip.
I do not fault with this father. Perhaps he hid his love in his mind and showed off responsibility outside. A responsible father, in the olden concepts was a bloke that brooks no nonsense. So, flexing his muscles and instilling fear in the young minds were common practices among the olden days’ fathers. Vinod’s father was a typical father of that era. He wanted his children to be more disciplined and concentrate more in their studies and household chorus. If this approach to tender minds produced the desired result is always debatable. Or does it deserve a debate? The past is buried. No such fathers exist in this modern era. This is an age of single parent, mind you.
Children of our age were forced to live in constant fear of their father. He talked very less to his sons and daughters and punished them severely for even minor mistakes. In the same breathe, I should add that there were several fathers who were less serious towards their children. In our childhood, we could never play with fancy toys. There were no Chinese toys flooding the markets. We had to make do with whatever we had in our surroundings. “Appam” moulded in sand using coconut shells, mini kitchen using coconut shells as vessels and stones, sand, leaves and seeds as vegetables were the favorite past time for the kids of those days. I do not think our fathers had to spend anything on toys or any other entertainments.
As for the school expenses, there were no autonomous ‘industries’ offering their products as they do presently. In our humble educational institutions, parents had to spend very nominal amounts for our studies. Perhaps, the biggest expense the parents had to meet for our studies was at the beginning of the new school year. An umbrella, one or two pairs of dresses-if necessary, books and a pen were the major things parents had to spend on.
Remembering umbrellas, our schools as in the case of every school, used to open on first of June – if were not a holiday. This is the date the monsoon also keeps with. It is impossible to walk without an umbrella during monsoon season. Till, we had a number of fellows who never owned an umbrella. They had to either take a ‘lift’ in other’s umbrellas or use plantain leaves as umbrellas.
Have you not fully surrendered to nostalgia by this time? I am sure, most of the readers of my writ ups had a very humble beginning in their life. Most of us had no silver spoon in the mouth, when our mothers gave birth to us. With our hard work and of course a great deal of luck, we have reached somewhere. Consequently, our children dare live a no fear for tomorrow life. So, take a deep sigh now and then read on.
Coming to the fearsome fathers of the yesteryears. Our father was not a serious man. I do not remember him to have beaten us even once. However we lived with him when we were too young to remember anything of him and then, when we were grown up and started going to colleges. Our father returned from Vizag and settled in Olavaipe when I was studying in first year pre-degree. During the gap between this, we were looked after by our grandma. Grandpa, like the typical terror instilling father, used to watch us from a distance. For us, our father was a seasonal phenominon. Once during monsoon and once during Vishu or Onam he makes the appearance along with our mom and spends a month or two with us. Honestly, in our childhood memories, father does not find a prominent place. I feel so sad to write this, but it is a fact. Now, I do the same to my kid. For him too, I am a seasonal father. With a little fear in my heart I used to imagine my kid sitting like me in front of a laptop a few years later and write stories of his past. Where does his paa get to stand in his memoirs? Knowing well the pitfalls of such a scenario, the life that we chose to live goes on. Just confused about finding an answer about How much is too much….
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