Please, keep us close to you.

Last year Mohini and I spent a quiet new year's eve. We visited the Gurudwara followed by a quiet dinner. Then the rest of the evening and night was spent at home, babysitting and enjoying the antics of our two naughty grandsons.

As we grey, we spend a lot of time reminiscing. We recalled a new year we celebrated many, many years ago, in 1996.

"Dad, can we come with you and mom this  evening to the new year party?" asked our 15 year old son, Mohit, accompanied by his 13 year old sibling, Pavit.

"Of course not", I retorted. "Don't cling to us. You better go along with your friends. That is who you should be spending your new year time with."

It didn't bother me the least, that Mohit, looked crest fallen, for I was making a man out of my son. He had to learn to be strong and independent.

In fact, I felt damn proud of myself, as I left for work.

That evening Mohini my wife asked, "What did you say to Mohit? Why can't the boys come with us? I have spoken to our friends, and they are quite comfortable if the boys come with us to the dinner and party. Please let them come."

"No! My decision is made, and please don't argue with me", I said curtly.

"Do you know what your son said? Do you have any idea what is going on in that young boy's mind and heart?" Mohini asked.

"Don't make a sissy out of him", I scolded her.

She sat me down and quoted Mohit. 

"Mom, very soon I will be busy, with my friends in college and then my professional studies in engineering.  My studies and career will consume nearly all my time and marriage thereafter. We have only these few years remaining,  that the four of us can spend real quality time together. We will never have this time again." 

He continued "I want to spend these years with you both and Pavit so that I can relish these times for all my life.  This is why I want us to be with you.  So Mama, please keep us close to you, while you can."

My macho arrogance, had blinded me and had stolen my empathy and love. It had made me both senseless and heartless. 

Could I not have had the same conversation with my son as Mohini had? 

Why had I failed to hear and feel what our son so dearly felt?

In this matter, who was showing greater wisdom and maturity, the father or the son?

Tears welled in my eyes and I wanted to kick myself. How could I make it up to him? I went to his room, and there he sat reading a book. 

With a weak smile he said, "Mom explained everything to me. Dad, it's ok, if you cannot take us with you. You and mom have a great time. Pavit and I will just chill out at home and watch TV."

I walked up to him, grasped his shoulders, stood him up. I embraced him real tight, and kissed him on his forehead. I said, "I am sorry, I refused you in the morning. On second thought, its a great idea that you came with us."

The four of us went together, to the new year party. We joked about and laughed so much that our stomachs ached, we danced until our legs hurt.  Then we danced and laughed even more... . The easy spontaneity,  fun, bonding and love, made it a fabulous, unforgettable happy evening, 

Thanks to Mohini and our sons, I became a better father and human being. 

Now 22 years later everything has happened almost exactly as Mohit foresaw it.  Even though we all stay together, our lives travelling in different orbits, allow us fewer  occasions to spend time together.

Our sons have grown up, are married, and fathers now. Its but natural that they devote their lives to the future. Their time is devoted to their work, wives, children, friends and associates. We have to struggle to find quality time as a joint family. 

Nowadays when the six of us and our grandsons get to spend time together, we still enjoy ourselves a lot, but it is somewhat different. The love and the magic is there, but it is not so overpowering anymore. Its not so intense and definitely less insane. 

.

Mohini and I draw consolation from Khalil Gibran's words, "Our children come through us, but they belong not to us ........". 

How old is your son?

Kind and  helpful my friend Dr. Anil Lamba is also a brilliant teacher.  Author and producer of a range of educational courses particularly on finance, he often weaves stories into his program to illuminate a view.

Reproduced here is a real life incident he narrated during a program I attended.
Once while traveling by train Anil's co-passengers included a couple and their little son.

Midway through the journey the ticket checker  came and began verifying the tickets of the passengers. He checked the tickets of this young family. They had two adult tickets for themselves and a half fare ticket for their boy.

The checker smiled at the boy enquired from the father "Your son is handsome, how old is he?'

The father replied; "he is seven."

After the checker left, another co-passenger remarked, "You know  your son is rather small built for his age.  He does not look like he is seven.  You could have easily passed him off as a five year old or younger. No one would have known any better and you could have avoided spending money on his ticket ."  (Children below the age of five need not buy a ticket)

The father smiled and said "You are right, no one else would know, but my son would know. That my dear Sir, is something I prefer not to teach my son."


Those who want to know more about Dr. Anil Lamba can visit www.lamconschool.com

How would you like it?

We human beings are somewhat the same underneath these masks that we wear and the games that we play. I think it is great that we get an occasional reality check.

Inside many of us lurks a dominating bully if only we could find someone to torment. Many parents, teachers and bosses are guilty of this offense.
We accumulate our frustrations with other people and things and bring that garbage back with us, only to dump them on the people who love us most, our family and friends.
One day I got upset at a trivial act of Mohit my son who was 15 at that time. I ranted and was an inexcusably horrible person.

After 10 minutes I had physically exhausted all my frustration, but my ego made me feel that I was completely justified in my conduct. Mohit looked at me straight in the eye and asked, "Dad, how would you feel  if I spoke to you in the same manner?"

Respectfully and in one soft spoken question my son deflated me of all my toxic anger and I felt terribly stupid and deeply ashamed. I realised that day that my son had grown up into a giant of a personality whereas I felt I had somewhat shrivelled.

Tears came to my eyes and  I hugged Mohit. It was then that he broke down sobbing uncontrollably. It has been 15 years since that incident and never again did I speak with anyone again in that thoughtless and rude manner.

The child is indeed the father of man.