“Daddy and I - Relationship between a parent and a child”

         “Daddy and I - Relationship between a parent and a child”

A child holds a very loving and  warm relationship with the parent. A parent is a whole institution for a child , the relationship has  a huge impact on the whole personality of the child.

I also shared a very special relationship with my father. It is believed that father-daughter and mother-son bonds are meant to be very special and my relationship as a daughter was no different.

Yes, it was very special bond, more of a friendship than a biological father –daughter relationship. It is believed that “Father” is the only “Man” in a girl’s life who never is really a man. The reason being the relationship is not of a man-woman with its insecurities, breakups and divorce stuff, it’s a much stronger and secured one it’s of a parent , a friend .  He is the strong love, support that stays through “ thick “and “thin”. 

As far as I could remember my “Dad” was always jovial and used to encourage me a lot. He used to play with me while I was a little girl, tell me stories, drop me to school, take me out for shopping and made me eat food with his hands. One typical way I remember him to make me eat “egg” was opening his mouth wide while putting egg in my mouth which I could never find a reason for , still I used to gulp down the egg. Also, he made sure I had a complete glass of milk before leaving for school.

At bedtime , I was entertained with a different story each night, I remember specially “Chota Ravan” which was about triumph of good over “evil”. Shopping with him was more of a fun as I always was hungry for having more and more of stationary stuffed inside my pencil box, of which “Sketch pens” was my favourite. Ofcourse , Papa used to treat me with cold drinks and choco-bars as well.

As every parent , my father was also very particular about my studies. In the evening , after my mother was over with her office and household chores, he made sures she sits with me and makes me study. My poor mother who was already tired with the whole day routine used to fall asleep, which was in a way good for me so that I may carry out with my playtime. But , I wasn’t that lucky as it seemed as my father used to appear in the room from nowhere and scold my mother for her negligence.

As my father was employed in the health care sector, he used to help many patients with money, medicines and food at times. He was so benevolent that he used to even give his own meals to someone he felt was more “Deserving”. His only flaw that I could trace in him was his inability to say “No”, to someone in need. That also attracts sometimes mean and shrewd people wearing the “innocent” mask on their face but whose hearts were “black”. So were his friends who used to borrow his “Two Wheeler – scooter “ for their own work and dint used to return it even until the next morning. My father who had to leave for work the next day, used to wait up at the terrace in anxiety waiting for his vehicle. My mother was very annoyed with this habit of his , but one really cant change anyone’s “Nature” as Human Nature is afterall bestowed to an individual by “Nature – the creation “ .

Another bad habit of his was “Drinking’. Consumption of alcohol is not bad as long as it doesn’t affect someone badly, and at times his alcoholism used to affect him and us all in quite a stressful manner. But no one is perfect as they say, so despite his flaws he has always been a loving father so these things can be ignored , cant they?

Lets move on to our “Happy times”. Papa had a special way of seeing me off to school. While dropping me by his scooter he bid me goodbye by saying 3 magical words “Tata, Bye and Ok”.

While picking up from the school bus stop , we used to go and buy “Cheese” from the famous shop “Motu Paneer”, take a video cassette on rent from the hire shop and head towards home. At home he showed his special cooking skills by preparing lunch for us. After lunch both of us put the movie and while away our time in fun. Well that was not the end, after a little nap both of us used to go and have “Panipuris/Golgappas – empty dough balls filled with spicy water” from a local vendor in our locality. He had a typical bell sound that he used to make to make us alert of his presence. Evenings were mostly spent by me playing with my friends , while dad got busy with his gardening & watering the plants , bringing groceries from the market and preparing the dinner. He had an ardent interest in cooking as he had a knowledge about the spices , vegetables and other stuff. The ride on his scooter was quite an adventure and fun too. I used to enjoy standing in the front with access to the gear and horns and clutch ofcourse with my father guiding me through, sitting on the front seat.

“Papa” was always my friend more than a parent as not only was he concerned about fulfilling my material needs but also made sure I had all the happiness and love that I deserved. He stood like a “rock” for me.

Not only was he my courage, my hope , my confidence but he was my “Love”. The agony of life is that we don’t cherish the people in our lives till we lose them. All through our lives we blame and abuse them for not being upto the mark as per the standards laid down by us, however its all those little imperfections and mistakes that are so valued once we don’t have them with us anymore.

Till the time , my father was in my life I could not understand his worth, and I had to lose him to understand what he really meant to me.

Unfortunately, we lost him to a tragic incidence that happened in our lives long time back.

After his demise, I lost all interest in my life, I was only a teenager of 13 years old. I had no interest in studies in fact the thought of school used to bring in shivers in me as my life and my future was surrounded by endless fears and insecurities. At that delicate age when girls spend their time on attraction with the opposite gender, self grooming and all,  I used to write letters to my father , pleading him to come back….but in vain.

Time heals the wounds but not every wound …..my father was my guide, my friend , my philosopher, my every reason to be in the cruel harsh world to stand on my feet. He is still watching me I am sure as I can feel his presence…. I try to do things in my life to make him proud of me as much as I am of him, every bit of me , to be “HIS DAUGHTER”.