It has come out of a discussion among us siblings, but still the talks made me very emotional. My sis said that when papa mummy are gone, she will be nothing and she will not come to house.
I hold the same thought. I will be nothing without my parents. But I will have to be something, because I created my kids, whom I have to nurture till they become ready.
I can write a lot on my father, but that will be maybe at some other time. For now let me just write down what comes from inside...
I love him. He is like a kid now, getting angry every now and then, but I remember the time he was like a lion. That what he did was right only, and could not have been wrong in any way. May be with time, he got weak and made some less right decisions, but that will never remove the mark he has put by doing the things he has done right. Spending on kids education, girl or boy ; never differentiating between gender (I actually came to know that some parents differentiate after I read about these issues in college time) ; selling land to a petty couple so that their family gets flourished, and never looking back again at what he had just donated ; coming out of village when he realised the intentions internally in family ; regularly giving back money to his village home till the theft incident ; still keeping in touch with his brothers ; never leaving contact with someone who works with him ; leaving everyone feeling good, if there was no altercation of course.
Many many more points.
It is because of him that I studied. Maybe I can say once his tears saved me from thinking about taking any step which would bring any harm to me. I was never the same person when I saw tears for me in his eyes. He said how can my son go through so much pain. His tears were the medicine I needed.
He has always wished for my growth, that I become a great contributor to the world. Not much these days, since I am just working like a common man now.
His opinion for every topic, both for and against that topic. It's super funny. The way he has protected my mother from any ill happening, I bow to him. He remains inspiration and a guiding light for many issues I come across in life, although not all. But that's ok.
I remember the food I enjoyed in childhood. I do not enjoy the food now seldom, but that may be because of age. The food mother made, I remember. I will miss it, even now I miss. But this happens to everyone. Old times are cherishable.
There are many old things about my family which I remember and feel so good. Even in less, we did not worry. We were kids, with mother father as our pillar to hold on to.
Lights used to go, we would go to our terrace, I would fan using newspapers or hand fan... all this happening in clear moonlight. Father sleeping on his cot alone. Mother and others sleeping around only. I would see some people walking by road in the moonlight. Would just think who made them go out of their house so late, then would think they can easily rush to their home is something happens.
Then light would come and we would go to our rooms. Father would also wake up, smoetimes he would go inside. Other times, will sleep outside only. He would bathe us everymorning, chanting the dohas and shlokas, which we hardly value now. Though I have started valuing them now.
His love for Ramayan. Mummy's faith in the unthinkable god, the unstatable God. Both my parents sometimes look like epitome of how a bhakt should be. But I have not seen this part of the world, the group of people who just live by God's name. So can not state about epitome with confidence. Just I feel that this is how dedicatedly a prayer should be done, if done.
Both of them keep working and laziness does not come near them. If it comes, it does not take precendance over other works. They tolerate for hope of better future. They warn about unhealthy signs. They love each other like friends and master-slave both ways, together. They show love whenever they feel, but control doing criticism immediately. for actions they do not approve of.
They are weak now, but they used to be made of A1 class marble. I still see them as A1 class marble, having their shine hidden behind the wrinkled skin. Like they ignored my wrong works in my childhood, I can not help but ignore the things I do not agree to.
We will also come to this stage. The cycle comes back around. Life comes back to teach us, I hope I am told what mistakes I did before reaching an old age, so that I make amends of it if possible. I wish the same for my parents too, however right I believe they are. They are also humans and prone to errors.
For life there is no better human hero I have to look up to, other than my parents.
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