BOOMERANG…
It was very difficult to gulp down even a small piece of THEKWA (a preparation of wheat flour, in villages during festivals), but I did not want to hurt the sentiments of my father. My father’s vitality doubled if anything from his native village struck our house – either some special preparation like THEKWA or our unknown relatives. It would take me a long time to recognize the relationship with the guests had it not been for my mother who cleverly dropped some hints to recognize them before my father introduced them formally. I knew my father never liked my insincerity towards relatives, but how could I make him understand that my priorities were quite different. There lay a generation gap.
I wanted to grow in life and my understanding was clear that it is very difficult to grow in the corporate world by staying in suburban areas. It is the culture in our corporate to invite your office colleagues, your peer group and bosses to your home on special occasions. I used to feel awkward to invite them to my place. I always wondered what would have motivated my father to build his house in the suburbs. My pre- conceived notion could come up with nothing but a generation gap, different work culture environment, and a difference in the complete thought process. It was 8:45 AM and I was getting late for my office.
“Can I get corn flakes?” I shouted.
“Wait for a few minutes,” my wife’s reply flew in from the kitchen.
My mother forwarded another piece of THEKWA and said, “Why don’t you have this for breakfast one day? Don’t you get bored with this English breakfast?” I felt like giving complete lectures on why one should have English breakfast daily and why one should avoid homemade DESI foods, but I could not utter anything due to the presence of my father. My phone rang; it was a call from the real estate agent. I took the call and said, “Yes, John, tell me?”
“Sir, we have selected some good properties for you.
I am sure you would like these.”
“Look, John, the last time whatever properties you had shown, all were in congested areas. I told you categorically, I need a house with good surroundings. That is my only requirement,” I said without noticing the repercussion of my statement.
The moment I kept my phone on the table my father besieged me with the most difficult question I was apprehensive about.
“Are you planning to buy a new house?”
I could not suppress my planning any further as I needed financial support from him, too.
I simply nodded.
“What is wrong in this house? I believe this is a big house with good surroundings and sufficient for all of us,” my father put forward his arguments which were as straightforward as facts to him.
For the last couple of years, a few things had been disturbing me. That day I found it appropriate to vent out my concerns. It was time to give priority to my requirements over my father’s emotions. I said upfront, “I don’t like staying here anymore. What kind of place is this? CHAPDANI! People make faces just after hearing the name.”
My father looked at me with disappointment in his eyes, but I did not bother. I wanted to live my life the way I liked. I did not want to comprise my children’s upbringing.
“One day, my children will also grow up. With whom shall they mix? Those half-naked children whose parents don’t even know why they produced them? There is no culture in their houses. Most of the children don’t even go to school. When I come back from my office, what would I show my children? Cows and buffaloes grazing the grass on the side of the roads and empty lands or tell them the story of our big house?” I just jabbered out.
My father was silent. That was the first time when I did not leave anything within me. I could see the transformation of my father’s facial expression from disappointment to sadness. Within a fraction of a second, I realized I should not have been so blunt and harsh in putting forward my concern, but it was too late. I had said everything directly which could have been explained by sugar-coating the words. I wanted to recall a few words but that was not possible now.
“Babu Ji, time is changing very fast. We need to change with time…”
“How would you manage the financial portion?” my father asked without any feeling in his voice.
I could feel his agony. I felt like a thousand tapes were pasted on my mouth before speaking out, “We need to sell this house.”
