Fathers like me aren’t good at mothering
Monday mornings couldn’t start on a better note than to notice an alarming amount of sunlight in your bedroom, a result of your alarm not going off. That realization was followed by 20 minutes of panicked cursing & shouting & crying (my 8 year old son Dhruv did the crying) as I careened around the house, from bathroom to kitchen to front door, trying to gather all the ridiculous bits of stuff Dhruv & I needed for the rest of the day. My wife, Geetha was away for 4 days on work.
As I pulled up in front of his school in Yelahanka 45 minutes later, Dhruv shot me a reproachful look. “Mom says if you keep dropping me off late like this, she will send me with Dinesh Uncle”. “Oh boy, last time I promise”. Dhruv was sliding out of the car now, a doubtful expression on his face. No breakfast and no lunch box either. I sighed, thinking another weekend had come to an inglorious end. I had, apparently failed spectacularly as a husband & now it appeared that I would fail with equal flamboyance as a dad. As I raced to work, I brooded about the botched morning. Geetha always complained I couldn’t handle anything when she was away.
The only good thing was the thought of moving into our own home in less than a week. Our Home at Provident Welworth City.
It’s Saturday. The men from Movers and Packers were carrying the boxes downstairs and into the waiting truck. It took almost an entire day to get all our things moved out. After snacking on Masala Dosas it was time to “officially” move in. Geetha looked at me with little Dhruv on her lap “Raghu, at last. We finally are moving into our own home.” As the car sped on the lovely Yelahanka Dodballapur road, I could see an elaborate quilt of elegant buildings, interspersed with apartment houses, shops, cafes and trees. With every passing minute, the sky became a deeper blue and by the time we reached our new home the full moon looked like a giant pearl hanging before an inky pool spread over 9000 sq ft, burning an impression into the canvas of my mind. Its light bounced against the water and Geetha exclaimed “Here it is, our pride and joy”.
Birds chirped incessantly as if they had a case of hiccups.
The early morning light was still breaking across the horizon when Geetha woke me up. The balcony was engulfed with the early morning fog and the birds chirped incessantly as if they had a case of hiccups. After a hearty breakfast of porridge, eggs and fresh fruits, I sat on the end of a long bench in an enormous expanse of green lawn, while Dhruv and Geetha were busy throwing Frisbees at each other. I was giving instructions to Dhruv on how to play & he absorbing every word I said as if I were sharing with him the secrets of the Universe. Frisbee followed by cycling, followed by swimming, followed by just running around crazily like I’ve never done in ages, followed by meeting and getting to know our neighbors, if this was how our life at our new home was going to be, I just wanted to capture this moment and keep it with me forever & for always…
Mrs. Sharma wades in with a forgotten curler sticking in the back of her hair
And so, it’s been a year now at Provident Welworth City. And it still feels as joyous as it did on our first day here. In more ways than one; this home appealed to the child in Geetha & I and has brought us closer as a family. It has put life back into perspective. Or rather it has put the perspective back into life. Akhil, Sanjay & Rehan, Dhruv’s best buddies, all four, big enough to be adults – at least in my eyes & it makes my chest swell with pride every time I see them bonding over a game of cricket. Our next door neighbor Mrs. Sharma who at times comes to our house with a forgotten curler sticking in the back of her hair is almost like family. Oh, and she makes the best aloo parathas ever. The friends we’ve made here will last a lifetime and as we age gracefully, so will our Home at Provident Welworth City.
As a wise man once said “Good Homes Build Great Relationships”, this testimony is proof enough.