Tuesday, July 10, 2007

My Dad..

My Dad.. Ex- Army Officer. Social butterfly. Workaholic. Sweet tooth. Chatterbox. The Multi tasker. The ladies man. Soon to be kickass Salsa dancer. There are one too many phrases to describe my dad. And whatever I write about him, would be saying too little.

Growing up, i never saw too much of him because he was always posted to some exotic location or the other, so i pictured him as a Superhero, the annihilator of all evil in the world (he fought a war when he was 18!! how cool is that?) some-one who i caught a few glimpses of, every once in a blue moon, and he always came loaded with goodies. And before i could blink an eyelid, he'd be gone again. And my wait would continue all over again, for him to be back again next year or the year after that.

Finally when i was 10, Dad got posted to Chennai, and i was made to pack my bags and bid adieu to my grandparents and my home of 6 years, Trivandrum. Finally, we were a family. Dad, mom, me, big brother. All under one roof.

Mom was always the disciplinarian and dad, the eternal fun train. If i want something real bad, i just have to say the word 'Daddy' in the most school girlish, i'm the apple of your eye way possible and he melts. ALWAYS. Victory is mine. ALWAYS.

Now you'd think, I'm a spoil brat. Yes, I am, 105% spoilt through and through. Despite the fact that he does things for me constantly and makes sure that I get my way, I have a short temper around him. I scream and yell at him, for the most pettiest of reasons.

Just an hour back, he asked me to heat a huge sandwich for him in the microwave. The sandwich was neatly packed in a plastic transparent foil. So, naturally, I undid the foil, placed the sandwich on a plate and set it inside the microwave. No sooner, had I done this, dad walked into the kitchen and said, "Don't put it in with the plastic foil". I didnt say a word, i merely gave him a disgruntled grumpy look. So he switched off the microwave and took out the sandwich. I did'nt hesitate to chew his head off. "Do you think i'm 5 years old? Why did you have to take it out now to see if the wrapper was on or not?" With that, I walked away, muttering curses under my breath.

I settled down with my sandwich in front of the TV, 10 seconds into the munch-munch, I began to feel guilty as hell. Why did I have to make a big deal of something so silly like that? Could'nt i have just let it go?

So, the minute I finished my sandwich, I ran to dad and apologized for being a rude bitch. He looked up at me from the book that he was reading, smiled and said, "You're a girl after all, you're entitled to your mood swings, it takes a lot of effort for a person to say sorry and plus i've known u since u were that small. So vent out all you want on me"
I felt the tears stinging in my eyes. Why do parents put up with us eternally bitter selfish breed? I think, they deserve much better children.


JollyRoger said...

You will get the answer to your question when you have a kid. Remember what goes around, comes around.

But gr8 post!

♥bμşγ-ŵŗϊŧēŕ♥ said...

aww, lovely post!! gave me nostalgia!