My father, who art in heaven

Every year, at around this time, my father’s death anniversary, the 15^th this time, I am flooded with thoughts.  His presence hovers over me constantly, no matter where I am, this towering light house of a beacon. This time, I wonder about how he would feel about the increasing frustration I experience practicing what he preached (but never to his, unattainable, level). For, of late, I find these standards causing me quite some pain and/or irritation.

You should ALWAYS keep to your word, Appa would say. Giving excuses is a sign of incompetence. If you have taken up something, you should do it no matter what. This applied to even the most minor excruciating detail. You could never fault him either – for he was perfect himself. Having followed this (subject to practical limitations) for so many years, it has become a part of my very being. Keeping to time, for example. My husband too is so similar to my father, I find it incredible. Timeliness is even greater than Godliness for me, I recollect my better half mentioning 😊.

I am reminded of one appointment I had set last year for 11 am. I was a little nervous to meet this somewhat intimidating person who lived in a neighbourhood I had never been to before. I reached 20 minutes ahead and waited at a bench in the periphery of the building. At 10.57, I strode up. When I found the apartment, it was 10.59. I waited a minute. Then rang the doorbell. To the very best extent possible, I try to be on time – be it for any appointments, classes, concerts, events, lunches, get-togethers. I build in that buffer. If I am going to be late, I convey that. When I was a child, I remember my mother citing traffic as the reason we were late somewhere. Appa immediately said that can never be an excuse. The other’s time must always be valued. Nobody should ever be taken for granted. Knowing that traffic can be of variable intensity, we should build in enough of a buffer so we are still on time. It had sunk in.

You should do the absolute best you can – Appa would say. It means that I pore over every dish I cook to ensure it meets my own highest standards. It means that with every article I write, I agonise over whether I have truly put myself in the other’s shoes. Have I conveyed the emotion displayed by my subject truly accurately without veiling it with my own thoughts and biases? Have I missed something? What should I add so the reader sees that person the way I see them? I have no control over whether that really happens or not, but have I done all I can possibly do?

Be extremely clear in communication – Appa would say. Leave no scope for misinterpretation. It means a complete inability to write modern day hyper brief messages. (My good friends often receive Whatsapp messages so long that they have to press the ‘Read more’ button to view it fully.) I state everything upfront to avoid the other getting hurt or assuming something that is not.

Respond to every message and in a timely manner – Appa would say. That is just elementary courtesy. Somebody is waiting on what you say. You don’t know what else they can do if you provide them clarity as quickly as possible. Sure, Appa. Sure.

Constantly introspect – Appa would say. Don’t think you are always right. Put yourself in the other’s shoes. What could you have done better, he would ask. It means I mull over every action, reaction and interaction much after I say it. With every response, a regurgitation occurs. What could I have done better? Appa’s dictum is shrouded by my mother’s constant credo – you cannot change anyone else. You can only change yourself. Many a time have I argued with my mother on this one. I still do.

But, Appa, you forgot to tell me how to handle the frustration I would feel when others don’t follow much of these. What about me? Don’t I count? (I sound exactly as I did when I heard of my father’s very sudden passing. Incredibly selfish. Why me?)

Words can be twisted whichever way like Twizzlers candy. And time seems to be this elastic, stretchable, limitless spectrum. Responses? Ha. Quality? Yeah, right. I have been promised many things ‘tomorrow’. Several tomorrows have come and gone. So have several ‘definitelys’ and ‘I will let you knows’. If and when something comes, it is a shadow of what one was led to expect.

One can remind once. One can remind twice. And these are not favours anyone is doing for me. Some even profusely apologise and present yet another tomorrow. Which too never comes. Then, what is one to do? There are those who evolve from responsive to unresponsive too, as more exciting things come up. Interesting how that works. That was never an option my father gave us. Hmmm. What was he thinking?

Why can’t others just say the truth at the get go? Why not realise that I too have things to do and that my time matters? Why not be candid at once? Why not put in your best? Why not communicate clearly? Why not finish the thought rather than leave it hanging?

‘My father who, for 15 years, hath been in heaven (hopefully), hallowed be thy name….. thy will be done, on earth? (Do I? Am I?) As it is in heaven? (I doubt it)……Forgive me my trespasses……  and lead me not into temptation (to stop following what you taught me). But deliver me from evil.’

(I recited the Lord’s Prayer every day for at least six years of my life while in Sierra Leone and then in Chennai – it has always resonated with me. It is so sensible and, to me, can be read by anyone, irrespective of belief system or religion, even if only to police oneself.)