"How was your
day?" ,I asked apprehensively . "It was exactly like any
other" , replied my father. I was mildly surprised. There had to have been
at least something different. This was to be his last day at work. He was
retiring from active service that day after a long stint at Ashok
Leyland.
We were headed for the
party his colleagues were throwing for him. We were driving there in his
nice air conditioned car. This was a long cherished dream of his, owning a car . Back when I was
in school, my father used to drop us , my brother and me on a two wheeler.
I remember how excited our whole family became , when we progressed from a TVS
champ with a baby seat attached at the front to a proper motor cycle ,
with four gears that had a fuel tank in the front that two small kids could sit
on . He didn't know how to ride such a bike but he was confident that he
could learn it. A small time mechanic from a nearby shop offered to teach him
and pretty soon he was all set. He never went very fast but he wasn't very slow
either. It was the greatest thrill for me, to get a good hold on
the seemingly huge handle bar (compared to the TVS) and pretend that
I was assisting with the driving too. We would go places , the four of us on
that motor cycle. It was such a big deal to us back then.
Such
small improvements were always there. My father also decided to get himself
another degree while he was working. The idea had seemed so outlandish to me
back then, that full grownups ought to sometimes take exams too. He could often
be found thumbing his way through thick books on Law and photocopies with
extremely small font. My mother had decided to join a similar pursuit as
well. It so happened one day that all four of us had an exam on the same
day and we were all up at the break of dawn trying to cram.
It sometimes feels
like all that was from another age. Time as it always does flew past so
quickly that i sometimes wonder if the memories i have are real or just from another imagined world. My brother and I have grown far too big to fit atop the fuel tank
of a bike, we have jobs now that give us time for little else, mother has
decided to watch over us from up above and here we were all of a sudden on
father's last day at work.
To hear his colleagues
speak about him was to hear about a whole new side of a man we thought we knew
completely. My brother for one, having been used to constant father-son
disagreements and arguments, must have been quite stunned to see that one of father’s
closest companions and coffee –break friends was a guy who seemed around his own age. Father’s boss told us a heartwarming story of how he had been willing to
forego his last salary increment and his friends recalled how even the
company’s MD used to consult with him for cricket tactics in his playing days.
“A cricketer at heart’, quipped another ,who appreciated his quiet dedication.
Bouquets and plaques
were given, many more anecdotes were recited, a marvelous dinner was
eaten and that was all.The last day had come to an end. Like my father said in
his speech that day, this job had given him everything. Starting out with
a meagre salary of a hundred rupees a month, he had risen to the level of
being able to support both his children through college during times when
the prices of everything had at least tripled or quadrupled. As we drove
back home that day, I asked my father what he was going to miss most about
office. “Everything”, he said , “but anything is good only so long it has to
come to an end one day”. He also seemed to look forward to all the time he
would suddenly have on his hands.
>>This appeared first on a community newsletter called 'Sabha News' <<
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