The other day when
one of my friends saw this photo as wallpaper on my mobile he at once asked,
Can you still hold your daughter in your arms? How old is she? I was startled at the question but without
second thoughts I replied “Yes of course! She is only 5 years old, hardly 18 Kg”. He smiled and we carried on.
As a matter of
practice, I recall all the events of the day just before going to sleep just to
ensure whether I did something wrong during the day and improve, and to
remember the best thing that happened to me during the day and be grateful for
that. So while browsing through all the memories of that day, I recalled this
little conversation I had with my friend. And just when I thought about it, I
was reminded of a story, a story of a young boy aged about 10 years. It goes
like this.
This boy, so young,
restless and fearless, was playing under the summer sun with his neighbourhood
friends. The game was ‘langdi tang’ wherein a child has to catch other children
on one leg, the other leg not touching the ground. It was decided that Chhotu,
Mr. Harish Chauhan, would catch at least 5 children in Langdi Tang and whoever
gets caught first would be the next langda boy. Everybody started running, as if
for their lives, and so did this young boy. During the chase, one of the boys
while keeping himself away from the langda boy unintentionally pushed this
young boy and suddenly he fell into a deep ditch and down and down he kept on
falling. At rock bottom, his head had hit the sharp edge of a small rock lying
on the ditch. Within minutes the boy was lying in a pool of blood. All the
children started screaming for help. Suddenly, a man came running, jumped down
to the ditch and picked this young boy. He was still bleeding profusely. Minutes
later, this boy’s father came panicking, he emptied the bottle of dettol all
over his head but the bleeding won’t stop. His father picked him up on his
shoulders and started uphill for the hospital which was about 4 Kms from the
house. Other neighbourers also accompanied, all offering to carry the boy for
some time but his father speechless, expressionless and relentless carried on.
The boy could see the stains of his blood on the way as he was taken to the
hospital. He was gradually losing consciousness, the faces were getting
blurred, but he could sense his mother crying constantly with hands folded
praying for the little boy’s life. Half way to the hospital the boy fell
unconscious. Blackout. The boy finally regained consciousness in a few hours,
he was in a hospital bed surrounded by his parents, relatives and neighbourers.
He overheard his mother telling someone who had just come to see the boy “…the
doctor said his skull was broken and divided in two, doctors had to fix it with
appx. 20 stitches and that given the amount of blood which has drained, had you
reached 5 minutes late, the boy would have been dead!!!”. A life was saved…by
the same person who brought him to life, his father.
If my friend was
amazed to see me holding Manya in my arms, imagine that Man carrying a 10 year
old boy to hospital uphill for 4 Kms! This is how a father should be, like a
Hero. I really really wish I can live up to be a strong, brave, protective,
heroic father to Manya as that strong man in the above story. I am sure, the
kind of love I have for Manya in my heart, I will be able to take care of my
little angel emotionally and physically at all times. And on her wedding day, I
will pick her up in my arms and carry her to her groom.
It is customary
on my blog to close it with a song. Accordingly, a song for all fathers out there:
She's got a smile that it seems to me,
reminds me of childhood memories,
where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky,
Now and then when I see her face,
she takes me away to that special place,
and if I stared too long,
I'd probably break down and cry,
Sweet child of mine,
Sweet love of mine.
She's got eyes of the bluest skies,
as if they thought of rain,
I hate to look into those eyes,
and see an ounce of pain,
Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place,
where as a child I'd hide,
and pray for the thunder and the rain,
to quietly pass me by,
Sweet child of mine,
Sweet love of mine.
By the way, the brave man in the above story happens to be my father and today happens to be his birthday and the young boy in the story happens to be,
Yours Truly,
Munish
Happy Birthday Papa. Proud of you J
