The silent strength, gratitude for fathers: A tribute to fathers who carry on.

Fathers and their unspoken struggles.

A few days back, I came across a sign in a metro station saying: "Papa mein teen saal se badi hu mera ticket lein" (Father, I am older than 3 years, please buy me a ticket). This was like a small board in the shape of a toddler (a little girl) asking for a ticket, as in India, it's quite common to see people traveling along with their children freely in the name of young age. I came across this sign in the wee hours of the morning, while exiting from the metro station, heading towards my workplace. I mean, this wasn't the first time I was seeing the board; I had seen it often, but this time it caught my attention, not because the board was fancy or something, but because the words inscribed were the reality of our lives, reflecting on how fortunate we are to have fathers in our lives.

I believe that fathers are the most underrated people that we hardly talk about. I mean, mothers and their contribution towards not only the family but also the children is admirable beyond measure. But fathers, fathers are the true backbone of any family. The job of a father is the toughest, because he silently carries the burden and pain of feeding his family. Every morning when I commute to work, I come across many fathers, going to work with tiredness in their eyes, but still showing up.

If we talk about ourselves, how often might we see ourselves complaining about our jobs, our lives, and how tired everything has made us? But when I look back on my childhood, I never came across my father whining about his life.

To be honest, I sincerely feel that our lives are far more comfortable than our fathers' lives used to be, but he never got tired. Talking about my father in particular, every morning, he would wake up before the sun and do his morning chores, and then go to his small shop, where he would sit from morning till night to earn a livelihood not only for himself but for his entire family.

Since I have started earning, and have learnt the power of budgeting, sometimes it makes me wonder how my father happened to pay money for our school (convent school), good food on the table every night, occasional holidays, good clothes, and, moreover, a happy childhood, from that small shop. Whereas, here I am, also earning, living alone, no family burden, but still have to think twice about fancy occasional family retreats or over-the-top gifts. Not because I am a miser or something, but because even earning thousands of bucks is not giving us the satisfaction that my father or many fathers had with a small livelihood.

I often think about what my childhood would be like if I had no father. Of course, my mother would have taken a job, or maybe somebody from the family might have supported us, but it wouldn't be the same as having a father by your side. I mean, how often did we fear, not only as a child but even as college goer, when we knew that every month our father was going to pay up all our bills, our rent, and even in between, if we ever needed any financial support, he would always stand tall, without even any hesitation.

Talking about my upbringing, of course, I wasn't born with a silver spoon, but I never thought otherwise. I had the most privileged childhood, even my early adulthood, because my father left no stone unturned to prove it wasn't true. And I am pretty sure that every father ensures that, and just having a father by your side can make your life a privileged one. Truth is, fathers have their own way of showing their affection; for them, providing is more important than loving with tenderness. Of course, they love us just like our mothers do, but they feel contented only when they are in a position to give.

I used to think otherwise, till a few years back, always whining about my father's way of showing affection. But now I think differently. Because now, when the deadline is approaching for the bills, or rent, or other stuff, my mind gets pumped up with all the necessary ways to get all these things done on time. And honestly, it can mess up your mind pretty badly. Sometimes I have to rearrange my budget because I am short of money, or sometimes I have to give up on that beautiful dress because priorities won't allow that. And when life gets tough, and circumstances don't allow you to save more than you used to save before, then reality steps in, which can make you cranky, irritable, most of the time. And that's when I remember my father, always carrying a heavy weight of family responsibilities, keeping everyone else before him, and suffering in silence, without letting anyone else know about it.

Because responsibilities can take away the smile from your face.

But still he carried on, without giving it a second thought, because he knew he had to provide.

Because as a father, he was well aware of his duties, his responsibilities.

Because, as a father, it gave him so much satisfaction that he would forget about the miseries he was facing alone.

Because as a father, he just wanted to see that smile on their children's faces, even if that meant a small slice of cake or borrowed sweetness.

Of course, Father's Day is not around, but why should we wait till then when we can celebrate Father's Day every single day? Why do we need to wait for specific occasions, like birthdays and anniversaries, to thank them? Why can't we just talk about our fathers more often or thank them for the life that we have? How frequently do we talk about the fact that nobody is perfect, but when it comes to fathers, we forget that they are humans too. They can also make mistakes, and why wouldn't they? But even in that mistake, even in that tough love, they never forget to be fathers. And that's all that matters.

We might be now financially comfortable or have a strong income range, but we can never forget the unsung, unnoticed hard work of our fathers that made us who we are today. And I am pretty sure no matter how well-paid you become, you will always want that sweet candy from your father, which you used to search in his bags when he would return home, maybe after a long day or after being away for a few days.

So let's thank all fathers who never stopped being a father.

Who never stopped showing up.

Who never stopped carrying the role.

For every father who stayed.

Thank you.

With love,

AY