Of Dad and Son...

It's difficult to understand my son. Why does he worship me? I hardly do anything for him. First of all, I travel a lot so I am hardly there for him. All the cool stuff he does like websites, books, "Lego" leagues and the "Mad Science" camps is all taken care of by my wife. She spends endless hours nurturing him and fueling his dreams. Really, he is her full-time job. So when he is asked to write an essay about "Who should be the next President of the United States" or "Who is the person who has impacted you most and how", and when he has only one answer, "My Dad", it truly surprises me.

Today was kind of a rude wake up call. For the second day running, he refused to go for a 5 PM showing of Cars 2, whose release he has been eagerly awaiting for a long time. "The reason", he said, "is I want to go to the park and play cricket with Appa". I have been recovering from illness over the long weekend and asked him if he can just go play with his friends and he said, "No Dad, I want to play with you". So I mustered all the strength I had and rode along to the park. Luckily a couple of his friends were already there so they started playing themselves. Just as I thought I will sit on the benches and enjoy the evening, he said, "Appa, can you field?".

I ambled across the grass and stationed myself somewhere between 2nd and 3rd base on the converted cricket field, from where I had a full view of everything. The boys were hitting the ball well but I was well positioned so I could always walk and retrieve the ball, on a day when running was simply out of question. It was then that it hit me. My Dad is my role model.

I grew up in modest middle-class Chennai in the 1980s. Both my parents had to work to support our huge joint family and my father was missing in action most of the time too. He would be gone for weeks sometimes, touring all parts of India, and we didn't even have realiable long distance calling within India, forget the modern amenities of today. Some times he would write us letters and most times he would arrive back home to receive the letter himself, such was the state of the Indian Postal Service. But, he always brought back something. Mostly it would be sweets for the family (wheat halwa from a Delhi sweet shop was a favorite), but sometimes there was special stuff for me. I will never forget my first white cricket sweater, a pair of nice cricket shoes and my first own table tennis racket. All three were very special to me and lasted me a long long time.

It was not what he brought back. It was what he was, and still is. He always rose at 5 AM. He would brew fresh coffee to last a couple of rounds for the big family. He was disciplined about his routine and encouraged all of us to be on time. He always dressed right for work and worked really hard. But most of all, he put others above himself. He was always the last to eat at a party, he was always the last to buy clothes for Diwali. Whether we were taking a rare vacation or we went to watch a test match at Chepauk, he always made sure that the children had food of their like. No matter how many times he had to wake up at night to take care of us when we were sick or even to turn on the bathroom light, he never complained. Why, there were times he had to put others' children above his own, but he took care of them like his own, that they remain indebted to him for life.

My son and I fight all the time. "My Dad is better than your Dad", I tell him. "No, he's not", he says. "Yes, he is", I push him on and then he climbs on me and pounds me while he squeals, "No, no, no, no, no, no...". His dad is his hero, but I sure am right about this one. As I walked across the grass to pick up the ball, it hit me today. I was not there for him for the first five years of his life, working nights and up to 14 hours a day. And though we then moved to the US and I started working days, I also started travelling. I don't do many of the things my Dad did for me. But something I do does it for him. I can't say what it is. Cricket is only a recent passion for him, though I'm sure it's big on his list right now. It could be the bear hugs, the international lullabies or my repeatedly saying, "you're my favorite person in the whole world".

I will never really know which one it is. But I sure did wake up to something today. He is giving me a real chance to be his role model and it is up to me to take it. And all I have is a small window of opportunity. I've got to be there for him, I've got to work harder and I've got to be always right in his eyes. As I sit here writing this at 1045 PM, I realize how hard that can be. Even though I'm sitting next to him on his bed, he's reading "Why is the Sky Blue", with his mother. I will sleep here in a few but will be up at 3 AM to be on a shuttle at 5 AM and be on the road for the next couple of days. I wished my Dad "Good Night" a little while ago and he assured me he will be up to make me my first cup of coffee.

Aha! It's all so clear now, not tough any more. I just have to do for my Son what my Dad did for me. Still does and always will. It's that easy...