Learning Life From Dad - #MyFamilyMyPride

I remember mentioning him my fear of falling down, when he had bought that red shiny bicycle on my birthday. The metal shaped structure seemed to stare me with all its delight, as if, telling me that he has come here for a special purpose. Naturally, for a 5 year old it would be terrifying when a supposed transformer tells you such things. After hours of persuasion put in by my father, I agreed to ride the bike, but with my agreement, I added a codicil – All the time that I would be peddling, he is to make sure that I am being held from behind. That is something every kid demands for, when, for the first time he looks forward to drive that bike.

He did agree, he had to, for otherwise I wouldn't have even looked at my bicycle. I remember that day very well – it was Sunday, as it was the only day he would get some relieve from his office and professional work. So by the time it was nine in the morning, my father had woken me up, had made me taken a bath, in those chilly winters of Delhi. I somehow wondered the creation of this, and concluded that perhaps it was my fault, that my birthday fell in a middle of the last month of year.

My father was always a punctual man, or perhaps, it was his government duty which had made him so. But nonetheless, we were all forced to live by a punctual habits too. I, sometimes envied my friends who were given liberties of many things which I was refused of, such as: getting to sleep as long as they desired, staying up as long as they desired at night. Those were the times when I was not aware of a potential plus of government jobs. However, these punctual ideals, and the habits inhabited by my father had shaped me in a person, who everybody desired to become. So, it was a two-way story of envies.

So, we got down to our building compound. I looked at the key, which belonged to the cycle lock, well placed in my hand right now. It was brand new – I always had this gist for using things which are fresh, new, like those morning dew drops. It felt good, gave me a motivation to outperform myself, it gave me a psychological advantage that I am starting new and as we are always taught – first impression is the last impression.

And then it began, my father helped me climb the giant in front of a five year old – I was scared at that point of time, after each second I tried looking back, to assure myself that he was there, holding me, keeping me safe, and I knew somehow that since he was there, nothing can ever happen to me. Nothing can touch me, my father won’t let it happen, my father won’t let anything bad happen to me. So I started peddling, as with the time, my assurance grew, I started peddling faster, with vigor.

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It followed for some days, till I started getting better. The things that I remained constant and boosted my confidence was my father’s grip, which equaled to the greatest assurance to me.

I continued peddling with vigor, and with each passing day, I rode a little farther. It so happened one day that while I peddled this time, I felt lighter, I felt as if some weight is taken off my bicycle. It felt good, but that goodness, or the happiness lasted less than few seconds when I looked back and found no one holding my bike. “Traitor”, my heart cried. And before I could come in control of the metal giant – I was down on the ground. But that fall had taught me more than it hurt me. For it was, the last time I had asked my father to hold me.

I would always remember his words, “Courage is not the absence of fear – but a process of overcoming it”.

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