Father and Son

THE PARENTS - Part 8/? – Father and Son

As he drove out from the car park at the Villagio Mall, Jay, who by now had enough of head banging, switched from Hard Rock, to something mellower, Urdu Ghazals.

He drove the car slowly, in the rightmost lane humming alongside Fareeda Khannam’s silken rendition of Obaidullah Aleem’s beautiful poetry ‘Kuch ishq tha kuch majboori thi’ as his boss’s last words of advice ringed repeatedly in his ears, ‘If you make a mistake, you pay the price’

Although he wanted that his son would forgive him, he didn’t entirely believe that there was even an inkling of a possibility in that event occurring. He himself had not forgiven his dad for not buying him that gift some thirty years back. Although it was Thirty years since that event had occurred, and although his own mother clarified his dad’s position and stance many times he had neither forgotten it, nor forgiven his own dad to date.

His dad, who worked as a clerk for a small nondescript firm in the diamond city of Surat toiled hard to support and rear their family of four. His salary was meagre and five days each week he moonlighted just so that they could pay off their house rent. Life was never easy, but his dad had worked hard to make it comfortable for them.

Through the year, the parents would cut expenses and drop the savings into their piggy bank made out of an old Farex tin. They started doing this when Jay was just one year old, and continued it ever since. At the end of each month, Jay and his elder sister May, would reach out to the box, shake it and try to estimate its value. They would then contemplate how much money their parents had saved and as to what they could expect to get as gifts the ensuing Christmas.

That year, they had visitors. Jay’s paternal uncle and his family of five had visited them for the Easter and they had stayed on for a whole week. His dad, who was the elder of the two, had to undoubtedly fund their stay and also buy parting gifts for the guests, which included dresses for the three kids, a readymade polyester T Shirt for his little brother and a chiffon Garden sari for his sister in law. Obviously, it was just April and they had not saved enough and Jay’s dad had to take a loan of Three Hundred Rupees from a friend at his workplace, which he repaid bit by bit every month.

That year, he and his sister didn’t expect much as the piggy bank was very light and made a lot of noise when shaken. May suggested that all that she might get this year were a pair of new ribbons and maybe Jay would get cotton banyan, that’s it, nothing else, and that this year Jay should not expect anything more and he had reconciled to that.

Jay’s dad was evidently struggling, trying hard to make ends meet pedalling his Hero Cycle from one end of the city to the other in the scorching sun and then moonlighting by the end of the day. He believed that a promotion at work would change things for their family. If he became the Personal Secretary to the main boss, Mr. Desai he could get some more leverage in the company and also display his inherent talent of writing crisp and clear letters in English.  The current Personal Secretary was a Goan lady, who had to resign as she was getting married by end of November and this was the best time for Jay’s Dad to trawl his net and grab that job.

It was October, and Jay’s dad as usual expected to get his annual Diwali bonus of Seventy Five Rupees.  Once he got it, he used a part of it to repay off the remaining loan and with the remainder of whatever was available in their piggy bank, brought a box of Assorted Dry Fruit Sweets and a Fancy yellow coloured Battery Operated Car, which played the song “mere pass aao” sung by Amitabh Bachchan from the just released movie Mr. Natwarlal.

His dad was a typical family man, who believed that within the family, all happiness and sorrows should be shared equally. After he got these two items, Jay’s dad, opened the boxes and showed it to everyone in the family and explained them as to why he had got it. Jay’s dad knew that Mr. Desai loved his only son very much and so, was planning to woo him by gifting him the sweets and a car toy to his son this Diwali. And, it was only to end Jay’s repeated imploring that his dad had opened the Car toy and did a trial run of it. Later Jay’s parents wrapped in the gifts, and along with it, a letter that his dad wrote in very flowery English wishing his Boss and family Happy Diwali. They then placed the gifts on top of the Godrej Cupboard in their single room apartment.

Through the evening, Jay was visibly upset that his dad had got such a wonderful gift for a boy whom he hadn’t even met and nothing for his only son. Jay didn’t sleep that night. He kept himself awake staring over the cupboard as streaks of light emanating from the zero watt bulb in their bathroom lit up the bright and shiny gift wrapping atop the cupboard, throwing out a beautiful array of sparkles on the ceiling and the adjacent walls.

Next day was Diwali day, and being vacation time, Jay woke up late, only to find that the gift was missing. His dad had himself taken the gifts to his Boss’s house. When he came back, Jay’s dad was beaming with happiness and said that his Boss and family had treated him well, and that they served him Campa Cola and the best Namkeens, Barfis and Pedas that money could buy and that after the meet, he was very optimistic about the outcome.

At home Jay’s dad promised everyone “Starting December everything would be alright” Jay had only one request, he wanted his dad to get him that same toy car, to which his dad promised “I will buy you that son, for Christmas, for sure”

Jay was overjoyed. That day, in the evening as he played with his friends in the street, he proclaimed to everyone that his dad was getting him a fancy battery operated car, which sang like Amitabh Bachchan. All his friends were jealous.

Life went on, and Jay’s dad stopped his part time job. He borrowed a stenography book from his friend and utilized the evenings to learn and master shorthand.

Every day as dad came back from office, Jay’s mother would ask, “Any news” and his dad would respond back “Just wait for a few days, it will happen….. it will happen”

One day, during the first week of December that year, Jay’s dad returned from work sooner than usual. He had a worried and tired look on his face and when Jay’s mother enquired, he pushed her down onto the floor. He later hugged her and cried profusely. That day, Jay’s father had just learnt that the Personal Secretary’s job was awarded to the Goan lady’s cousin and that there was no way that he could aspire for that. The Diwali gift of sweets and toy had gone in vain.

Later, May explained to Jay that this event meant that they wouldn’t get any gifts this year. Jay was sad and turned averse to his dad. That day he took all his old and broken toys to the nearby pond and flung them into the water. He didn’t want any toys anymore.

During the ensuing week, his dad, who was looking for a new and better job attended many interviews and eventually got selected for a Secretary’s position in Libya.  He packed his bags and within a week, flew off, well before Christmas, stealing away whatever room there was available for reconciliation. That was by far the gloomiest Christmas they ever had.

Their life changed after Jay’s dad, moved to Libya and he eventually got a remote controlled car with blinking lights when his dad visited them on his first vacation two years later. But for Jay, that fateful Christmas of 1980 still remained etched in his memory forever and he had not forgiven his dad till date for that.

Jay always believed that his dad’s going away to Libya had to do less with making money and more with actually running away from him that Christmas. And the price he paid for his dad’s going away was immense. He so dearly missed a father figure, who’d hold his hand and take him through his difficult times as an adolescent boy.

As Jay drove his car slowly on the last lane of the Al Waab Street, he cursed himself for being so unkind and cruel to his dad. His dad had sacrificed all his pleasures and worked hard toiling in the Libyan Desert, just to earn a livelihood beyond his means so that his kids back home could have a better future and more than just a gift every Christmas. Jay’s heart was heavy with guilt. And he banged the dashboard as he whispered “Dad, you did a great job” and “I am sorry dad, forgive me”

Realization had struck Jay in the form of his own son, in whose eyes, in the coming few minutes, he would fail miserably. He feared that the same story would repeat, because Kay was his true copy, both in looks and behaviour.

Jay finally reached his apartment block, but feared to climb up and confront his kids. He parked his car in front of the building, reclined the seat and just waited there listening to Ghulam Ali, waiting for it to be 9:30PM, the time by which Kay would go to bed.

At exactly 9:15PM he got a call on his car’s Bluetooth. It was his wife Elle and she enquired “Where are you Jay?” to which he replied “I….. I am….. I am reaching in a moment. I was looking all over the place for the Puzzle thing. It’s out of stock. Don’t know what to do. But I am on the way, I am coming back”

She responded sternly “Come soon, it’s time for Kay to go to bed and he wants to talk to you before that. Make it fast”

Jay replied “Okay” and Elle hung the phone.

As the call ended, Jay slowly manoeuvred his car to the porch and climbed the stairs. He was in no hurry. He stopped by at each floor, reading the various notices that were posted there and finally after some twenty odd minutes reached their third floor apartment.

He was scared to ring the bell, and so stood there with his arms folded, chin dropped and eyes staring the threshold. As he stood there, his mallu neighbour walked by asking “What happened, no one to open the door?”

Jay replied “No, no, no, they are there” and was forced to press the calling bell.

As soon as he pressed the bell, he heard his lads screaming from inside, “Yeyy, Pappa came, Pappa came”

Jay stood there with his body shivering and his heart beating rapidly.

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PS:   This isn’t the last part! J

       I am someone who likes attention and here’s asking you guys to wait for one more day  thinking about the confrontation.

        Jay has finally rung the calling bell and exactly after 24hrs on this very same web page, you’ll find the bonus part; part 9/9, which reveals as to what exactly happened after the door opened.