"My Father - My Guide"

With the untimely rains lashing for the last two days, there was a nip in the air when I walked into my balcony early in the morning yesterday. It felt as if winter has set in and I went up onto the terrace for a stroll. The huge trees surrounding my house were swinging their heads as if they were welcoming the morning and the immense possibilities it brings in. Amongst them are a few coconut trees whose branches fall onto the terrace. I have a habit of touching them fondly and remember my childhood in coastal Andhra which is abundantly blessed with greenery and coconut groves.

Yesterday, my memories went beyond the coconut trees and drew images of me going to the fields with my father. I must have been ten years old then and made it a habit to tag along my father to the fields in the afternoons. This must be because my father used to travel a lot and his stay at home was intermittent and short. Hence, I did not want to miss any chance of being with him.  

One image which is very strong is that of our returning home in the twilight. My father used to be in the lead walking along small raised pathways between two sections of a field with a basket full of grass on the head and a bag of vegetables in one hand. I used to cling on to his other hand and be guided through hard soil, freshly tilled earth, fencing made of thorny bushes and water gushing out of bore wells. I used to take pride in using his towel as a turban, hold sickle in one hand and imagine me becoming a big farmer. My face used to beam with happiness when we enter the village since that was the time when my friends could see me along with my father. Reaching home, I used to have hot water bath, be fed by my mother, snug closely to my father and fall off to sleep.

Why are these images coming in front of me now? Am I missing my father or something else? As I think deeply, I feel that the reason is I am longing for that guiding hand once again. After having left the guiding hand for the last five decades, a strong feeling about the happiness and security I felt in the presence of my father engulfed me.

As I sat on the terrace deep in my thoughts, I felt someone touching my shoulder caringly. I heard a voice saying “don’t you ever think that the guiding hand has left you. In fact, it was and is with you. I was with you in thick and thin and will always be” I sat in silence for a while and asked “why did I feel that the guiding hand is no longer with me? Why am I longing for it now? Why didn’t I feel so in the last fifty years?”

“You were too busy with education, career, family and had little time to think about you being guided by me. Now that you have some time on your hands, your life is unwinding in front of you and showing images of the things which were and still are very important to you. I must say that you are lucky. You are able to see those images and make meaning out of them”. It was a revelation for me and I nodded in agreement.

The voice went on “Come into my fold and unfold.  You have a lot to share and learn. There is a world beyond this world with things unknown to you. Let me guide you through the world within you and the world beyond. Hold my hand with the same trust, belief and faith with which you held it five decades ago.  Close your eyes and follow me”. I felt the hand tighten on my shoulder and then release the grip. When I closed my eyes, I saw myself being guided by my father on a different path into a different world.