for a selfless father

I just went through my brother's blog, my difficult elder brother who i want to kill and save at the same time. I don't know about blood ties, but there is a great bond in sharing the formative years of life with someone. To face the same forces, both inimical and beneficial. He recalled how dad defied a perpetual financial crunch to provide us with the very best in terms of education. We were made to attend the kind of events and interact with the kind of people many of my journalist colleagues don't dream of still. But thanks to dad, that was the world we knew. Ashish was the self assured one. The genius, the prodigy. Mom used to carry a big bag to the youth festival to collect his trophies. There was immense burden of expectation on my rebellious, mercurial brother. But at the nick of time, he defied everyone's expectations to follow his path.
Dad saw his son as an emerging doctor or at least an IAS officer. Knowing ashish (curiously called shalu), neither was difficult for him. I vividly remember how he announced at home that he did not want to be a doctor, a wink away from the entrance and dad tore his examination card in frustration. All hell broke lose. No one in my family is adept in self restraint. But ashish stuck to his guns and dad came round. He is a very respected teacher today and i can confidently say he has moulded quite a few minds. In a system where many teachers sleepwalk through class solely for the salary at the end of the month, ashish is part of a heartening change.
Come to dad. I wish, i pray that i have 10 per cent of the devotion he had to bring up my daughter the way he brought us up. He was no angel. (He had an extremely volatile temper we were all dead scared of). But with all his failings, he is a great father. Dad never saved money in the course of his long career with Punjab Agricultural University. Whatever he earned was spent in providing us with an unbelievable environment. I have visited many rich people over the past few years and i don't remember seeing their kids soaking up lenin at age 11. Our modest home was filled choc-a-block with books. Books overflowed from cupboards, racks, trunks, they were inside beds and on top of them…they were everywhere. i was in the habit of reading in the loo as well. (Was never the most sophisticated). Our outings were to conferences for scientists, anthropologists, politicians, what have you. And while we flourished in the environment dad painstakingly created for us, his bank balance dwindled. Our neighbors sent their kids to modest schools while we studied in the best Ludhiana had. They made houses, my dad took more loans…many from a private financier at exorbitant interest rates. Among the people who visited our house, there were many moneylenders seeking repayments.
Finally dad retired. Mom and dad are old today and they live far away, in kerala. Both of us are inexpressive about expressing affection. But there's not a single moment i don't think of them. They are permanent fixtures in my mind. My selfless, temperamental father and my frank, headstrong, loving mother. Today, i have a daughter and a blueprint of her journey to adulthood and independence. I am looking forward to grooming a woman of substance and then letting her loose, free to live her life. I want to see my daughter take her own decisions and accept the responsibility, i want to see her fly. It comes from my parents, i know and i am so grateful. Love you always.