No Gift for My Father

Since childhood I held the assumption that my mother ran the “home ministry”, while my father dealt with the “foreign affairs”. On my 18th birthday, I came to realize that nothing could be further from the truth. Despite having the full support of my father to go to USA for higher studies, I ended up going to India for my undergrads. To my utter dismay, when confronted, my father said, “your mom thought you are too young to go to US now”. I learned that day, my dad had long surrendered both the ministries to my mother.

A Dad Loves a Mom. My parents came not only from diverse backgrounds, but also from different parts of the society. Yet despite their differences, growing up I do not recall them ever arguing in front of us. Once, a man asked Prophet Muhammad (pbuh), “who is most deserving of my kindness?" The Prophet said, "Your mother, then your mother, then your mother, then your father...”. My father made sure we knew who the boss of the household was. Once I recall, likely after losing a close-door argument, my non-smoker dad brought back home a pack of cigarettes, with off course a few sticks missing. Next day the packet was found floating in the pond next door. Thus ended the only mutiny that I recall my father staging.

A Dad Is a Hero. He was a senior official in Bangladesh government. An Electrical Engineer by education from the prestigious BUET (62 batch), my father chose to pursue career as a civil servant with the Department of Education. He retired as one of the highly esteemed Principals (Dean) of Bangladesh Vocational Institutions. Growing up as a kid, I saw him adroitly maneuvering through the intricacies of student politics, while ensuring the overall welfare of the student body. Yet at home, there he was; fidgeting through my hair while tucking me into bed every night.

A Dad Is a Teacher. Being associated with the Department of Education, my father chose to be a silent observer when corruption took the better side of my secondary school certification results. “Why didn’t you intervene and stop them?” … I kept on growling that entire night. He remained silent, standing like a statue, helpless. We were not in talking terms for a year after that. Later he explained, “If I had done something to stop them, you would have never known how strong you are, and how much lower they can pull you down in life”. Being an honest government official, my dad never had the opportunity to lead a lavish life. I recall riding the local bus with him, despite having government-issued vehicle at his disposal. When confronted by his friends on why he refuses to focus on acquiring wealth, he laughed and said, “I already have 3 gems (referring to my sisters & me), what more wealth do I need?”

A Dad Never Retires. The day my father became retirement eligible, he chose to leave the civil service cadre. Never had I seen a man become busier post retirement. The below-par curriculum of vocational studies would always pain him. Over the years, he came across many scholars that were scattered across the country. He reached out to them one by one, and started to co-author textbooks with those forgotten, poor teachers. After the passing of my dad, my mom rejected a lucrative cash-purchase offer from one of the largest publishers and handed over the publication-rights to those amazing educationalists, all 27 of them. I could still see their beaten, bright eyes twinkling from the tears of joy.

A Dad Challenges His Kids. It was 1983. My father self-appointed himself to be my 5th grade math tutor. After scoring just 88 out of a possible 100 that year, I had no choice but to terminate his employment. Naturally that didn’t sit well with my dad, as I evidenced during my TOEFL exam when he also chose to compete alongside. It gave me immense pleasure back then to defeat him, even if it was only by a small margin. Today, 26 years later, I realize how much the dice was loaded in my favor. I never accounted for our diverse upbringing. While I took the rickshaw to school, he walked 8 kilometers back and forth to school every day. While I had fancy shoes, he was in his sandals. While I was educated by the missionary brothers and fathers in one of the best high schools in Bangladesh, his early education came from the village tutors. It was never a fair fight.

A Dad Pays the Bills. While in college, I negotiated hard with my father for a few extra dollars each semester. It never occurred to me till later in life how difficult it must have been for an honest breadwinner to spare a few dollars more just to satisfy my childish needs. On my way to USA, he liquidated his hard-earned pension fund and gave away one-third for my flight and tuition. To show my gratitude, I took him out to lunch once... that was the only time I got the chance to pay for his bill. My father passed away next year at the age of 57.

A Son Looks like His Dad. Since my childhood, I heard how much I resemble my dad. Just like him, I enjoy entertaining friends at home. I too cannot remain idle for long. I too am looking for new ways to doing things. I too like to travel around the world. Despite so many similarities, I feel like my father had always been miles ahead of me. As he walked into a room, it would brighten up. As he joined a gathering, everyone would start relaxing a bit more. As he opened his mouth, others would listen eagerly. Once I was hospitalized due to a road accident. At the hospital bed, the doctor asked me who the person was standing next to the bed, resting his hands over my feet. “He’s just a friend of mine who gave me a ride” I said, trying not to look at my dad. Yet today I could see how his face might have lit up, as emotions started to spill into his eyes. My father was truly my friend first. I never asked whether I too was a friend to him.

A Dad Gets No Gifts. Though I only have a handful of pictures of me and my father together, today I carry many more memories with me. I see him walking down the streets while casually playing with his pocket full of coins. I see him leisurely lying on the couch while being engrossed in editing scripts. I see him drinking a glass full of water just before the meal. With the passage of time, that person becomes mightier than I remember, bigger than what I could ever dream of becoming.

Today, I am not fortunate enough to be able to buy gifts for him during Father’s Day. Bible says, "As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him (Psalm 103:13)". Each dawn, long before sunrise, as I bow down in supplication, I pray to Almighty that my dad’s soul may rest in peace till the end of time. I pray to meet my father in after life, as in his mighty company I may not feel unworthy anymore.