Babaiya

This article was published on Father's Day, 2012 in Women's World. The article on the site has since been archived. 

I christened him “Babaiya”. No one, including me, remembers the root or the cause of the genesis of this term. But I love to believe that because he is unique and uniquely my father therefore he deserved a unique name. This had sealed the bond with the man and father forever.

Everything in my life reverberates with the silence touches of his presence in my life. My love of books is his greatest gift to me. As a single and lonely child, he opened the doors to the world of words. He strengthened my understanding of the language through Scrabble. He drove me to express myself through Monopoly. He helped to find my confidence through Badminton and career-mapped me to professional and financial success through his own example.

Resilience and quite strength is his hallmark as is true of all fathers. He stands behind my mother to provide structure and safety net for me to grow, fall, walk and eventually run. Beliefs and values are what he used to shape me into the woman I am today. He used his own failures to create stepping stones for my success. He stooped, but only to conquer. Grace and dignity are but a few of the tricks up his sleeves. Discipline and devotion are the corner stones of his lessons.

But what I remember the most and the best is him dancing with me. He would take me in his arms and dances around the room with me giggling to the ninth heavens! I would sit on his tummy as a kid and try to start a bike as he would start his Rajdoot. He had a weird beard phase in life. He looked more like a dacoit out of the dreaded Chambal than my father. I really do not remember my father ever saying “no” to anything I ever asked of him.

These are just mere token remembrances of my father. The enormity of what father’s bear for their children can never be fathomed – the anxiety of the first step, the anxiousness of the first day of school, the pressure of the first matriculation exam, the hopefulness of first steps as a married couple, the blessings of the first grandchild… so many firsts… and yet we turn to them time and time again! He may walk by us but every time we call he falls behind for us to catch up so that we can lead from the front.

We are all shaped by our fathers.

The traditions endure through genes.

The values endure through genres.

The dreams endure through generations.

Martin Luther King said that “…the ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy…” A man doesn’t have to change to be better; he simply has to become a father. Share with your father and tell him once again how special he is. You can never tell him enough.