Past two weeks I didn’t get much time to sit down, think and write. The blame would primarily go to my bougainvillea aka Banyan tree which again failed to bloom this month. After last month’s failure to do anything productive I had started watering the plant, and pruning it regularly. But I was surprised to find out that it was not blooming at all and so wasn’t my blog. Later I realized that this peculiar plant when showered with excessive love & care i.e. water, space and continuous pruning tends to go into a vegetative state, it requires certain harsh conditions to bloom!!!
Talking of blooming reminds me of sowing-reaping cycle in one’s life. My dad superannuated this year, or rather say was forced to superannuate because my grandfather had messed up with his age while getting him an admission in the local school. Cursing my grandfather’s poor memory, my mother also opted for VRS. So after playing their first inning they were left with the biggest task of one’s life time- Build their own house. In this humongous task, I was expected to act like the son they never had and stand next to them to build their “dream house”. My ‘BTech degree’ in civil Engineering had shot my dad’s expectations very high. Ahmmm.
Anyway, so I was supposed to stand shoulder to shoulder with him but I had a toddler and a highly tan prone skin which held me back. So my expertise stayed limited to “approving drawings, designs , fixtures etc. over WhatsApp”. Whenever my dad tried questioning my civil engineering skills & expertise, I started raising some objections on important issues like -“Having only one call bell for both ground floor and first floor is simply not acceptable !!!!”
No matter how much I tried it was impossible to be much help through WhatsApp and Skype. So this Janmashtami I finally visited home (site). I poured half bottle of sunscreen, put on sun glasses, wore socks , full sleeves dress, a hat ,and also carried a bottle of water to keep myself hydrated . When I visited the site,almost everything was done, pillars were placed, the structure was already up, marble was laid and painting was going on, and the name plate on solid black granite of the front door was ready.
It read daddy’s and mummy’s name in golden followed by me and my sister’s name.
Tears of happiness fell from my eyes, I would have failed to play my role as a daughter but my dad had been silently playing his role of a father.
Thank you daddy for the gesture.
However my husband complained that his name was not there on the name plate. My younger sister was happy to break the news to him that he is adopted!!!!