The Google logo today shows an image of a kid running ahead of a guy who is presumably the Dad, and a kite is flying along behind them as if to imply that they’re going to fly the kite. Nice. It reminds me of my own childhood of my father teaching me how to fly a kite from our rooftop on late Spring afternoons.
The kite-flying was only one of several things that my Dad taught me how to do, and one of several things that I learned well (the others I didn’t all take to quite so easily or so well!).
Some others things he taught me to do: polish my shoes and shine them so they served as mirrors; lace up shoes (in two different ways) so they were of equal length; tie those same shoelaces (in two different ways); ride a bicycle (craftily letting go of me without my knowing, where when I did realize that he wasn’t right behind me holding the rear of the bike, I instantly fell down!); drive a car (which was an exercise in trying both of our patience — me as a sixteen-year old lacking much of it anyway!); drive his large Lambretta scooter, and especially how to pull it up to park it up on its stand; to do long division and all the other math that I seemed to lag behind in; edit my essays and the occasional speech for Independence Day and/or Republic Day; fill up the inkwell of my fountain pen without making a mess; tie a necktie in the classic Windsor knot; and flood our house and our minds with the news and current affairs of the day by way of always having our subscriptions to National Geographic, The Reader’s Digest, Time magazine, and The Illustrated Weekly always current (not to mention the fortnightly Indrajal comics that the paperwallah would drop off along with the daily Times of India newspaper).
Beyond all this, my father taught me by personal example of the importance of being humble in all things, in not bragging about oneself, in helping out in whatever way one could (and God knows he loaned family, friend and foe money that many a time went unreturned!), in the importance of holding one’s peace (to the point that he gained a reputation in some family circles of lacking courage), in taking risks (with his choice of career and vocation), in being so devoted to my mother (to the point that he has been affectionately labeled as being hen-pecked), in being unashamed of proclaiming his personal faith and sharing it with all and sundry (to the point that as I grew older, I didn’t need much convincing from him to follow in the same way), and in reassuring me many a time, especially in times of my own doubt and discontent in my later years of his love for me, that he loved me! And even during all those disagreements and discussions about my personal life-choices, he said what he had to without any threats (although he’s occasionally bordered on some emotional blackmail!).
So, yes, the image of the kite does remind me of many things today. And also makes me reflect on what that means to me, and the fact that I have been privileged to have a loving father.
Here’s hoping for many more such years of treasuring my father and of reminiscing on our relationship on this third Sunday in June each year.
Like this:
Like Loading...
