This man lacked 'intellect' intellectuals are known to have. He was so ordinary that he believed in the goodness of others, more than his own. One could read him so easily. The best thing about him was that he was not judgemental. He might have known but he did not say this is the right, or the wrong way of doing a thing.
When this man was successfully steering his boat, he jumped from the boat. He was in search of a new shore. His family couldn't understand why he left them midstream. Even in the most trying circumstances he did not try to clarify and explain his standpoint. He did not like the idea of giving justifications for his actions. He never intruded into the lives of others. He too did not like others' intervention in any of his matters.
He was afraid of himself, more than he was afraid of others. His fear and courage were misunderstood. He was not a go-getter type. He was happy when someone came to him in an ordinary way. He was full of love; as if the world is made of only good people. He possessed nothing, but was full of contentment. It did not bother him if someone was ahead of him. He also did not think that he was a laggard. He did not like to give, or receive guidance. He was so ordinary that no one considered him to be his competitor. It did not bother him that people don't notice him.
He was a giver, not a taker. He had limited desires. His bank account did not have balance, but his net worth did not bother him anytime. What he earned, he spent. He believed in the present, more than the future. His dress, specs and footwear were his hallmarks. He liked ‘Gamcha’ more than the sophisticated ‘Towel’. Often his ‘Dhoti’ was enough to wipe off the remaining water from his body.
He would never travel first class. He loved his bicycle. Distance never bothered him; he was so confident about the mechanical prowess of his legs and his bicycle.
He could not sing, but loved music. He loved if someone sang for him. He loved if someone explained to him what the song wanted to convey. He liked to serve good food but any food was good for him. He did not like to go to doctors. He believed in naturopathy. He preferred home-made doctors, like grandmothers, who know everything about medicine without knowing anything about the sickness. He could bear pain.
He had a relationship with the world that was deeply spiritual. He was like a wandering ascetic. He was not a house holder, but enjoyed the little corner at his home, among his people.
This man was a father. He demanded no obedience, nor showed any authority. Often one wondered if he was a mere spectator, an observer. Yes, he listened, if one informed. He was not concerned about his children’s future, nor did he had any preconceived notion about their future. He had enough faith in his children.
The day he died he was among his people. It was a peaceful event. During those moments, people who could not be near him, he wished they were with him. He wished them well.
I don't know what is the right way to become a father. Many fathers value authority. They believe that their children should do what they tell them to do. They don't believe in giving choices to their children. There are also many fathers who value freedom. They believe in giving choices to their children. Some fathers don't like their children to become adults. Some fathers begin to treat their children as 'adults' very early. Whatever the ways, most fathers try to give their children the assurance that they are there for them. Some fathers don't believe that discipline and denial are the only ways to raise a child.
Loving fathers have confident children. A father can be his child's best friend. Sometimes there is a feeling of insecurity that if I accept him as a friend he is likely to take advantage. But a real friend never takes advantage of a weak situation.
This simple man was a loving father.