The child is the father of the man!

Written on October 2006: Reposted

My favourite haunt used to be a local library about 2 blocks from my father’s office. There used to be a little nook there where all the archie’s comics used to be kept. I used to forget the world around me when I was there. I would devour 2 archies double digest in 30 mins and I was only 12. The librarian had to come and pick me up and drop me off in another corner of the library every now and then. There was a reason why I read those comics like there was no tomorrow. My dad was reading one when I was born, infact I have never seen him without one. And from day one I have always wanted to do everything just like him. I guess it is the daughter-father thing, but there has never been anything in my life so far where I have strayed far from things that in someway or the other revolve around his world. and no I am not part of the blame game. He has never imposed anything on me his entire life, except maybe his exceptional math skills and I have two lost and confused shopkeepers near my house who can vouch for the fact that he never got anywhere. From my love of literature, to poetry,history, Politics, science, totally useless trivia which came in use during quiz comps, debates, essays, writing every single thing in my life is attributed to his genes and I forever boast that I am my father’s daughter. One of the single most important reason why I switched from science to Politics today is to walk my path and live my dreams. I needed to do that for two reasons one to not end up like my father, giving up on what he is good at and living someone else’s life and two to give him a chance to experience something he always wanted to. I am exceptionally proud of it. Some of the best conversations I have had with my dad were debating the who’s, how’s and what’s of the subject I am studying. Agreements turning into arguments, thoughts turning into potential thesis, it gives me a thrill to pick up that phone and dial that number.

Something happened which makes me feel a little lousy though. The other day when I called him, he didn’t seem to know the answer to something.we were discussing about it and I knew a little more than what he did. While it is not such a big deal, I felt my heart sink just a little within me. Truth be told I am scared. When a bird is reluctant to fly or when a flower hesitates to open and absorb the world around it, it is not just because of fear of the unknown, it is also the fear that it might end up seeing too much, that it would leave its kind behind. I know that my father will always be there for me and he will always know far more than I do. But it stills sends a chill down my spine to think that there might be a place and time where I might be treading alone. It brings up questions of fleeting time, moments and mortality. Maybe I am seeing too much into little things, but the fact that I am moving forward makes me want to stop. When I was just baby, my father used to lift me and throw me high up in the air till I almost reached the ceiling and grab me on my way back. I have always looked down to see him when I went up. I have a photo which shows that. I feel the strongest urge to keep looking down even now. My father’s genes, love, and unbridled thirst for knowledge have thrown me high up in the air. I can see the sky, the world around and the stars I am to reach, but I still want to look down and make sure that he is there to grab me when I come down. And somewhere deep down in my heart I know he will be around.

P.S: He just called to give me my answer…Whooopeee….Hope you can see me dance!!!

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About Binaryfootprint

Don't just hover, put the shoes on and start walking. www.binaryfootprints.wordpress.com View all posts by Binaryfootprint

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