Showing posts with label blessing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blessing. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Hug your dad

As I write this post, my eyes are welled up already. It’s been a long year of illness and recovery for my dad. As my whole family is constantly on toes to make him feel better, it just took a warm hug to see him smile and feel positive. Last year when dad underwent a by-pass heart surgery, something very strange happened. While in ICU recovery post operation, dad witnessed a man die on the operation table. The deceased gentleman’s family raised a hue and cry and blamed the doctors for the unfortunate death. The entire scenario shook and scared dad. Fearing for his own life, he removed the drips and walked out of the ICU. The doctors or nurses could not calm him as he demanded a quick discharge from the hospital, refusing to enter the ICU room again. The staff called me to handle the situation. I rushed to the 3rd floor, where I found dad sitting outside the ICU, tired, upset and scared. He whispered into my ear about the patient’s operation that went awry, calling it a conspiracy of the doctors. He feared the doctors would poison him as well. The nurses were warned by my dad to stay away from him. I felt helpless and worried when a sense of responsibility ruled my senses. I stepped into my mother’s shoes that moment. When my constant consoling and assurance did not budge him, the only thing I could think was a hug. I pressed his palm gently and then hugged him tightly. It calmed him down a great extent. The warm embrace did the magic, what doctors or my words could not do. That hug was a life-saving hug for dad. He felt assured and safe after my hug and entered the ICU.

That stage was, what the doctors later told me, a psychosis attack.
I want to hug my dad every day to assure him of good health, to make him feel positive, to support him emotionally and moreover to thank him for everything. Thanks is a small word in return of all the gestures and his acts of responsibility towards his family. 
During my school days when my mom made me learn riding a cycle, it was dad who taught me saving money for situations like cycle breakdown. I owe a hug to him for the sense of caution he instilled in me.
When my mom was reluctant to send me to Delhi for job, it was dad who supported me. He brushed his emotions aside and allowed me to shift to the capital city so that I turn independent and strong. I owe a hug to my dad for shaping me into an independent bold person.

My first job in Delhi was not easy and the thought of quitting had clouded my thoughts. It was dad who encouraged me to stay put and lectured me on not giving up. I continued my job amid all hardships and turned the tough ways in my favor. I owe one hug to him for standing by me patiently and inspiring me.

An honest, grounded and patient person, my dad has given me all the joys and love I could ask for. I cannot stop thanking God for blessing me with a father like him. A hug to dad will be the smallest thing in return.
This father’s day, I am expressing my love towards my dad by participating in the #HugYourDad activity at BlogAdda in association with Vicks

Thursday, April 30, 2015

It's a girl!!!


“It’s a girl!” The alley thundered with triumphant applause. As she opened her eyes, compliments poured in for my family. I can imagine how my parents felt at the top of the world in that joyous moment.  My near and dear ones showered my sister with their love and blessing.

Amid all the love and care, she started to grow up.  She was the apple of our mother’s eyes. Mom never said no to her little desires. Yet she wanted her to be independent and taught her to face the world with courage, just like she had taught me. She spread her baby wings to fly and mom encouraged her throughout.  In very less time, she learnt the values of life. Our father silently stood by her in all the little tricks that she grabbed. Those small tricks earned us a living. All her life, our mother worked very hard to feed us. Our father’s firm determination and positive thinking nurtured us.
We survived on whatever my family or I could do for a living. So what if God made us that way? So what if the rest of the mankind hated us? We were born that way. In her growing phase, as she passed by in the alley, she noticed people shutting their doors and windows on her. She wondered if her presence was so much detested. Why was our community happy when she was born? Why was the human race treating her different? I had no answers to her questions. Perhaps her head was buzzing with questions that day too when she was knocked down. Somebody had attacked her. She fell half unconscious.

“Mom! I killed one” I heard a kid shouting in victory.
“Switch on the mosquito repellant machine instead of clapping on them!” said the kid’s mother as she switched on the repellant machine. My sister died in no time. I had to leave her lifeless body and flew out of the window.
RIP dear sister mosquito.

Image courtesyprintthistoday.com