The ‘Daddy’ thing

Father’s Day has come around once again, and its time to pay tribute to those great dads who played such an important part in our lives

BY SHERYL DIXIT

“When I was your ag e, I had to study under the lamp-post outside my house, because we didn’t have electricity in our home!” said my dad frequently when I was a child, his closing statement to a raft of preceding complaints, ranging from leaving the lights on, to not studying, to coming home with low grades… Although my older siblings tended to take this oft-repeated statement for granted, I have to admit that I was impressed. That is, until I heard it from my father-in-law too, a few years later. It was the norm, it would seem, to study under lamp-posts, to indicate diligence, studiousness and determination. Can’t argue with that logic though, because both these remarkable men had a good dose of these admirable qualities in their constitutions.

I have always been grateful for a happy childhood, a state of being that has largely dominated my life. A few years after my dad’s demise, I met my father-in-law, who seemed more like my mother in personality, but he had the same values and morals that I had grown up with. Strangely, my dad was pretty much like my mother-in-law, patient, kind, understanding and humble. It took a lot to make my dad lose his temper, even with three relatively annoying kids and their myriad dramas. I always got away with the worst offenses, being the youngest and most spoiled, a trait I see in my younger son today.

Both these men, although from fairly different backgrounds, had many things in common. They had great belief in their faiths, a strong sense of righteousness, an even stronger sense of duty and a commitment to the family which gained them the respect of not just family and distant relatives, but also friends and acquaintances. They made friends for life, people who still remember them with fondness and pleasure, just like we do. Both had a yen for adventure of different kinds; my dad loved the theatre and indulged in his hobby for acting and directing Konkani plays, while my dad-in-law went on a jamboree in the Czech Republic, where he was posted for two years.

Marriage and having children sobered both, as it does with most of us. My dad, as the oldest in the family with a sister and two brothers, was like a father figure to his younger siblings. My dad-in-law had a close and comfortable relationship with his immediate family, something I saw and admired at our wedding, where practically the whole family turned up to wish us well and participate in the festivities. I have always marvelled at the levels of respect that they were able to evoke, simply by being themselves – honest, steady, dependable, hardworking and…well, good.

Yes, they had their quirks and eccentricities, but who doesn’t? Its what gave them character and made them charming, if occasionally annoying. My dad loved recounting parables, no doubt from his close association with the Bible. He also had a thing about idioms, which may sound trite, but actually contain a good deal of common sense. One of his favourites was, “You can take a donkey to the water, but you can’t make it drink!”, which he usually quoted after someone who had come to him for advice seemed unimpressed with his simple, obvious solution to their problem. I often think of that phrase these days, not that I would even consider myself worthy of giving advice, but because I have noticed that people don’t see the obvious only because they don’t want to. I’m guessing my dad would be proud of that observation on human nature!

My dad-in-law had a huge sense of independence, and nothing would annoy him more than to be treated with kid gloves by his wife and sons. On holiday in Sydney after a brief illness in India, he would wander off on his own causing the family some anxiety, but he always found his way back and had some interesting anecdote to recount about his adventures. He took care though, to mention them a few days later, when the heat had died down. I am sure his friends back home would have been treated to the unexpurgitated versions, unlike us.

Of all the many things I learned from my dad and dad-in-law, the simplicity of their logic has made a profound impression on me. As a rebellious teenager and an I-know-it-all 20-something, it was an annoying realization that they could be right more often than not. Simple adages like, “As you sow, so shall you reap!” and “You will have to face the consequences of your actions”, while meaning the same thing but said by different people, were lessons learned the hard way. However, the greatest comfort of all was in knowing that you could go back feeling foolish, and be accepted because no matter what, you were still the prodigal returning home. Mothers have that innate sense of caring, but because our dads had it too, I think we were very, very lucky. Its hard to imagine what we would have done if we had nowhere to sleep off the excesses of a night on the tiles, or nowhere to heal after falling off a motorbike after a foolhardy adventure.

And we are now parents, with their legacy to pass on to our kids. “Daddy, you’re cool!” wrote my older son in an email to his dad on work in India a few weeks ago. And yes, I have to admit, Daddy’s cool. He can be a crocodile-dinosaur at the drop of a hat, kick around a soccer ball, play Beyblades and win without causing a tantrum, he can work out maths mentals while I’m trying to find more fingers and toes, he can laugh heartily as they practice fart noises, he can yell for quiet just once and miraculously, you won’t hear a word for the next five minutes. He can explain the difference between Queen and Pink, and they get it. How? I don’t know, I guess it’s just a ‘daddy’ thing!

But apart from all this, my husband, like many daddies I know, have many things in common with their fathers. Like endless affection for their children, pride in their kids achievements, a strong sense of integrity and goodness, and a quirky sense of humour. These traits have been passed on from generation to generation, and there’s no doubt that we are the wiser for it. Sometimes in moments of stress I tell my boys, “I hope that when you’ll have kids, they’ll be just like you’ll!” But the truth is, I hope that if and when my boys do have kids, they become just like their dad!