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Parent-Child Friendship

It has been almost since last Sunday that I have been thinking of the truth behind the parent-child friendship. In the Indian context, I do not know if we can truly call it a friendship,given the slightly orthodox mechanization of parent and child relationships in India, the famed Abhishek and Amithabh relationship notwithstanding. Mostly parents, in Indian context are looked at with a certain degree of veneration. Even with a distant and remote kind of affliction, there still remains a sense of oneness, the kids feel towards their parents, and a lot has variously been written about the father-daughter relationship.
   Ever since my little, pink princess landed into my life things have been different. All the dark corners of my thoughts seem to have been suddenly lit up, like the streets of the town in the Commonwealth games make-over, and all relevance is pegged on to the little lady of the life. Ever since, my vision could come out of the ecstasy of being a father, when I first saw her lying there in the nursery looking much like a miniaturized version of a tourist having sunbath on Goan sands, all acts of mine have more or less been aligned to and revolving around her. Things have been moving pretty much same way in the recent past, as each day gets planned with how much more of her I could squeeze in to each of the day as she graduated from meaningless noises to some pretty coherent sentences.
  As the little lady start coming on her own, with her own choices and preferences,some sparks have started flowing, not much for either of us to move out of the house, but good enough to get her some pretty good scolds, although the frowns find easier to go than coming, looking at her absolutely charming face. Though she keeps on growing which every passing day, there is still some sense of the new born decency which I see she is still blessed with. While this blog I started writing some ten days back, it went waiting for completion as we proceeded for a weekend trip to Corbett National Park. In between a tiring road drive, silent and serene greens there is one particular event which stood out.
 I decided to add it to my blog, with a hope that it will give me courage in my times of need and also that if my daughter ever grows up to read it, she will be able to see the light through the days wrapped into the densest mist of self-doubt. As we were getting ready to start for the trip on Friday evening, she playfully picked her mothers powder case, and accidentally dropped it and I guess, broke it. No one saw it but me, and as they say in movies, No one needed to know. So I advised her to keep it to herself saying her mother will get angry about it. But the moment, she looked at her mother, she blurted out, Maa, it is broke. And when asked how, while I struggled to explain that it just slipped and got broken, she dutifully would explain, Maa, Nonu picked it up and it slopped and tut gaya, (it broke).
Way, way better than the responsibility acceptance by the Prime Minister in the parliament a day after this about the CVC appointment, with a rider that he was guided in wrong judgement by incomplete report by then Minister of State for the DoPT. Here it was angelic, I broke it, that is the truth, socratic truth with no rider anywhere, obvious or subtle.
I hope, she will always in her life have this courage to face her decisions and the truth around those decisions. While she got a mild scold there, I wish I would always be able to appreciate the positive of personality trait which allows one to accept the responsibility without looking at someone to blame it on against the material loss caused by the act. I do hope she will always consider me a friend who will not always judge her, not when she shows the courage to accept her actions. To my blessed friendship..and safer time and silent prayer to the Tsunami affected people in Japan.  

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