Ever since I left home, “a need to talk home” automatically drives me to dial mamma’s mobile. There is absolutely no potential reason behind this . I love my father as much as I love my mother. But then why I call my mother and ONLY then phone is handed over to father after mamma and I are done with the long conversation?
Perhaps, my mind has already computed all these equations and result says that talking to mother means more Information and talking to father means News.
Had I been calling my father daily, my half an hour call would have been 5 minutes call. The reason is that when me and my mother talks she tells me about my Uncle and Aunt’s health, there new daughter-in-law, our family friend’s son getting admission to MBA, new saree she bought, stuff in the sale she recently had been to etc etc..
But my father talks only about me, my health, his and mamma’s health, my brother and sometimes about our dog Macho.
The same story continues in all the families. This is as natural as red roses can not be grown in desert or cactus don’t find there home in fertile lands.
But somewhere down the line, I strongly feel that we are knowingly or unknowingly not giving justice to the piece of time divided to talk to mother and father. He wants to listen to simple hello and that too becomes once in a week affair.
To make up all the things we mess up in our busy lives, English people have found there ways. Celebrating Father’s day is one of the lovely things they started.
On 15th June (2nd Sunday of June), this year Father’s day was celebrated. I got this lovely opportunity to talk directly to papa. I called my father. He picked the phone with unusual voice. His voice only proved that I have done something not usual. Then I said, “”Namastey Papa, Happy Father’s Day, I am lucky to have you”. Then he only talked and I could not utter a word for next one minute.
Bathroom is the safest place to cry but that day I figured out that phone is also good one.
His reaction was so pleasant, his voice only revealed.
He said. “Thanks beta”. A five seconds pause. Perhaps he was also enjoying the heaviness in the throat and little moist eyes. It was not raining outside but I could smell the wet soil, the feeling that makes my heart go beyond happiness with little ununderstandable pain.
