I grew up as the baby of the family, if you can call that growing up at all. I have always been coddled and this has led to both endearing and mildly harmful patterns as an adult. In a North Indian home like mine, dad was very much the head of the family and at most times ¨C the unequivocal decision maker.?Yes, we might as well have called him ¡®Bauji¡¯ and been betrothed to his friend's children in a land far, far away. Okay, fine, I exaggerate.?Life wasn¡¯t?exactly?a Bollywood movie like?Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge, but we did grow up with the ever-present fear of magnanimous and sometimes tough ¡®Bauji¡¯ aka Daddy feeling let down by us.
Smriti Notani
As I grew older, and his rules relaxed a little, I started to see the more fun side of my father. He had a funny bone that just wouldn¡¯t quit and his jokes were always very well-timed. As a writer, I aspire to get that timing part down pat. I started to recognize that there are different ways to show your care. He would never call me ¡®princess¡¯ or give me bear hugs. But he would ask mom to call me a gazillion times if I wasn¡¯t around. He would scold me for having too much caffeine and he would endlessly fuss over me if I wasn¡¯t feeling well ¨C even if all I had was a mild headache and the sniffles.
When dad fell ill a few years ago, it felt like a temporary situation. Because it¡¯s dad¡I mean come on¡he¡¯ll be okay, right? He¡¯s so strong and knows so much about the medical field (we used to have a chemist shop). But as his medical history got more complicated and the hospital stints increased in frequency and length, my heart started to sink at the thought that my father was ailing. He never cribbed, so it wasn¡¯t about dealing with him as an annoying patient. It was just about opening my eyes to the reality that he was suffering. It¡¯s not easy being hooked up to machines. It¡¯s not easy being in and out of the ICU. It¡¯s not easy living on hospital food and above all else, it¡¯s not easy to remain cheerful. But dad made it seem like it was not too difficult either, and that made me view him as the superhero I was convinced he was.??
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Amidst all this, the lens through which I viewed my dad changed. I suddenly felt responsible for his well being. At times, I felt irritable that he didn¡¯t listen to me earlier when it came to certain vices and habits. I felt upset that he was going through so much. And just like that, I become the parent. That¡¯s right, a role reversal transpired, and nurturing instincts that I didn¡¯t even know I had, bubbled to the surface. Day after day, I was more than willing to do the seemingly mundane tasks ¨C like go to the hospital, talk to the nurses, keep track of tests or medicines, understand organ functions, decode medical numbers. Moreover, it became important to keep up dad¡¯s spirits ¨C so I would try to be armed with jokes, Bollywood gossip, family gossip (#sorrynotsorry), weather updates, and sometimes even a small portion of his favourite food. My cook had standing instructions to keep making his favourite things, without spice, which I¡¯d then surreptitiously sneak into the hospital, just to cheer him up a little and change the taste of his palate. To be very honest, at that point, I¡¯d do just about anything I could to help or ease the situation. I still carry in my heart some guilt for not doing enough. Although, realistically, I don¡¯t exactly know what ¡®enough¡¯ would entail.
I shudder at those days that we faced, but you know what? Life may not exactly prepare you for this stuff, when it¡¯s your time to be a nurturer, the universe provides support and somehow you find the inner strength to do it. That¡¯s the only explanation I have so far, and if you have a better one ¨C then I¡¯ll be happy to hear it.
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Sadly despite our best efforts, and his own positive disposition, we lost dad last year. Needless to say, I¡¯m overwrought by grief but my dad¡¯s legacy lives on through our family. I have had many a tear stained night in this past year and nothing will ever fill the void he has left behind. But to think that I got to take care of my dad is a big privilege in itself, and to be very honest, I wish it upon every daughter.?
This Father¡¯s Day, I miss him. I stare at a vintage picture of him carrying me in his arms and I talk to him directly, for I shall carry him in my heart forever.?
Images from Unsplash are representational.