I don't have kids...I would love to adopt and have lots and hope to heaven that I make the same effort my father did with me and my brother. My brother has a son, Aditya. Aditya is the bond between my Dad and My brother... The circle of life does catch up with all of us.
My brother now understand the love logic that drives a parent, I also think I do. But I guess any parent will understand all this...
My Dad was a mean Father...once he was my hero, then he was all right, just another father, then he was hatesome...But during all this too he could perform MAGIC...I believe it today too, especially when I am ill (I am 34).
Someday when Aditya grows up enough to understand, this is for him.
My father put curfew times, bothered me with queries about where am I going, interrogated my friends too. He loved me.
He held me close when I cried. When I let my friends go every time he got transferred, he would be there for me. He never cried, never; except when I moved away to college.
He loved us enough to stand over us for hours, inspected our rooms and paid us for cleaning our rooms.And boy, were we honoured if he said "Well done".
He was harsh with punishments, breaking my ego, letting me take the responsibility for my actions. It pained him to punish me, but instilled me with a sense of forthrightness.
But most of all, he I guess loved me to say NO when he knew I would hate him for it. (the hatred time lasted just till he decided it should.)
Those were the most difficult battles of all.
Was your Papa horrible and mean? I know mine was.(My brother never would use these words)
We had the meanest and nicest father in the whole world!
While other kids ate what they wanted for food, we had greens(what my father thought was healthy), no less than his decided portions, but more we could all we wanted.When others had a Pepsi and a Uncle Chips for lunch, we had to eat daal and chappatis.
Papa insisted on knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we were prisoners in a cell.
He had to know who our friends were and what we were doing with them, though he would claim all the time he didn't remember their names.
He always insisted on us telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Borrowing was out of the question, I know cause in XII I got so badly smacked I had to be rescued by your great grandmother, my grand ma, of course. the impressions lasted forever on my mind.
By the time we were teenagers, he could read our minds and had eyes in the back of his head. He knew which part of Dehradun I had been driving in all day (That was 1994). I felt as if RAW worked for him. Then, life was really tough!
I couldn't have boyfriends like the rest, cause Papa insisted on either going Dutch or paying the whole. Rest of the girls got teddy bears and heart pillows, Papa told me to pay for my own.
We missed out on lots of things other kids experienced because of Papa.
Both of us have never been caught taking a loan,shoplifting, destroying other's property or ever suspended.
It was all his fault.
Now that we have left home, we are all educated, honest adults. I hope Ravi is doing his best to be a mean parents just like Papa was.
I think that what's wrong with the world today is that it doesn't have enough mean Dads and mothers!
My brother now understand the love logic that drives a parent, I also think I do. But I guess any parent will understand all this...
My Dad was a mean Father...once he was my hero, then he was all right, just another father, then he was hatesome...But during all this too he could perform MAGIC...I believe it today too, especially when I am ill (I am 34).
Someday when Aditya grows up enough to understand, this is for him.
My father put curfew times, bothered me with queries about where am I going, interrogated my friends too. He loved me.
He held me close when I cried. When I let my friends go every time he got transferred, he would be there for me. He never cried, never; except when I moved away to college.
He loved us enough to stand over us for hours, inspected our rooms and paid us for cleaning our rooms.And boy, were we honoured if he said "Well done".
He was harsh with punishments, breaking my ego, letting me take the responsibility for my actions. It pained him to punish me, but instilled me with a sense of forthrightness.
But most of all, he I guess loved me to say NO when he knew I would hate him for it. (the hatred time lasted just till he decided it should.)
Those were the most difficult battles of all.
Was your Papa horrible and mean? I know mine was.(My brother never would use these words)
We had the meanest and nicest father in the whole world!
While other kids ate what they wanted for food, we had greens(what my father thought was healthy), no less than his decided portions, but more we could all we wanted.When others had a Pepsi and a Uncle Chips for lunch, we had to eat daal and chappatis.
Papa insisted on knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we were prisoners in a cell.
He had to know who our friends were and what we were doing with them, though he would claim all the time he didn't remember their names.
He always insisted on us telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Borrowing was out of the question, I know cause in XII I got so badly smacked I had to be rescued by your great grandmother, my grand ma, of course. the impressions lasted forever on my mind.
By the time we were teenagers, he could read our minds and had eyes in the back of his head. He knew which part of Dehradun I had been driving in all day (That was 1994). I felt as if RAW worked for him. Then, life was really tough!
I couldn't have boyfriends like the rest, cause Papa insisted on either going Dutch or paying the whole. Rest of the girls got teddy bears and heart pillows, Papa told me to pay for my own.
We missed out on lots of things other kids experienced because of Papa.
Both of us have never been caught taking a loan,shoplifting, destroying other's property or ever suspended.
It was all his fault.
Now that we have left home, we are all educated, honest adults. I hope Ravi is doing his best to be a mean parents just like Papa was.
I think that what's wrong with the world today is that it doesn't have enough mean Dads and mothers!
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