You are again late! Said the angry rose to the first drop that kissed the dusty, dry awaiting rose petals. Oh! you’re right, but I was bound to wait for the go-ahead from mother nature. Well! I know your limitations but the beings here were waiting for you, my dear rain. Besides that, I have a lot to tell you. Perhaps that helps you convince mother nature to let you lose more frequently to ooze upon the burning earth. Here we pay a tribute on Fathers Day! my dear.

Fully agreed! my dear Rose. You know how much, I love being adored by the little kids and especially the farmers and the other whole waiting lot, the humans, the animals, and the beauties like you. I know especially the kids keep on praying for me to pour. Are you even attentive to me, the sparkling little beauty?

Oh yeah, I am listening. but was a bit mentally occupied? I want to fill you in on a surprising thing, I witnessed the day before. I little innocent girl came to me yesterday and plucked one of the roses. Before we all could start mourning, she blushed and said, “I am sure my dad would like this flower”. I shall present to him on Father’s Day.

The saga evolves…

There was a spark in her eyes, a bright shiny sprinkle. Why do their faces shine when the human kids utter the words, Mom & Dad? Who are they? What is Mother’s and father’s Day? Some kind of fruits, snow, birds, clouds, or a breeze? Why do these words make their faces glow? Do they belong to the dimension unknown about which we the short-lived roses know nothing?

The Rain replying…

Okay just hold on! my fancy creature! chuckled the rain. I am not surprised by your ignorance about the concept of this magical word: Mom & Dad, The parents, specifically the Father, I want to explain to you today because the day today is Father’s day among these humans.

You stay stagnant spending a limited life swinging on the whirling branch, knowing nothing of the world out there. Rose, I travel the whole world. I mark every inch of the mass called earth. And ‘Father’ is the kindest creature that could ever explore in cycles of my life. Little do I know what it takes to be a father but I swear to every drop of myself, they are the mental stuff of real-life scenarios.

Remember the moment, your gardener looked at you for the first time? Recall the shine of his eyes and the smile curve, bringing life in full to his face. You are the product of his selfless efforts. Just try to feel his feelings if you can, no one can be more lovable than him. But to make my point clear, I need to present a panoramic view of the Father and Fatherhood.

Fatherhood – a relationship apart

From the first time holding their babies in their lap to teaching them the art of walking and talking. They serve as an unpaid nanny. They work day in and day out to put bread & butter on the dining table. And they still tell everyone in the office ‘if it wouldn’t be about the future of my kids, I would have resigned from this place immediately’.

A Punching Bag

Kids unburden their thoughts, mistakes, and blunders on the father’s shoulder and he buckles up to make a way through it. A father cross path with depression and devastation almost every day. No matter what their social class is, they just can’t get away, without work. From the huts in slums to the terraces of manor houses, fatherhood is the only constant emotion I witnessed. To thank all that we celebrate Father’s Day.

Then comes the gloomy part of reality. They survive between “I will” to “I am done”. The moment they reach their senses, they are taught to get stable so they may gather the strength of providing a more privileged lifestyle to their kids. It is a passage through a closed tunnel, having no opening at the other end.

iss gali ke doosri janab koi rasta nahi
the street has no exit at the other end.

There is no coming back. They trade their rest with the comfort of their kids until they give them the last piece of their struggle. They get old. Breaking down into pieces to fix the life of their kids. Handing out favors to children even when they actually deserve a little punishment. Staking their holdings to educate them, selling out assets to keep feeding them until they learn to stand straight and strong. That’s the moment when they end up with nothing but a cruel, unpassable time. Father’s Day is just a payback for what they did but only a condolence.

Alas ! the sun sets at last…

Few of them compromise and spend the day doing their hobbies. The rest of them, sit back in their beds, wheelchairs, and in the worst cases, hospital beds. The time seizes, now. The time passed at the usual speed, but not for them. Morning, night, another day, winter and summer, the spring, the autumn all lose their charm.

The loneliness and tiredness remain the only reality for them to face and suffer through. They wait for their kids to join but the generation next is badly short of time, the time that can not be bought, borrowed, preserved, and saved or stolen for days of depression & loneliness. Why did they all end up so heartbroken, asked rose.

Unpaid Caretakers

Not all! dear rose, life, like a coin always has two sides. I know a few of them taking their grandchildren to the grounds. Playing with them, tieing their shoes, walking them to school, picking up groceries from the market, and enjoying evening tea with the kids in line. I heard them chuckling at dinner.

The homes, I love the most are the ones with the echoing laughs of fathers, and the laughter of a grandfather. The only darkness that doesn’t scare me is of a room filled with grandchildren sitting in a circle around their Grandpa, narrating age-old stories. I witnessed generations, praising fathers, and fathers of fathers. I saw them honoring Grandpa. Such families inherit the true essence of fatherhood. And! that’s the secret contribution of good humans to hold this title high.

The Bewildered Rose

I am touched and moved by showering Rain, but who chooses to put them in such situations? Who decides how they end up? On a deathbed waiting for kids or on the ground seeing kids playing around? Asked rose.

The one who decided to put you here, in this garden. Who preferred making you a flower than a human? The one who allocated me the task of washing and moisturizing the earth. The one who decides where the rain will fall, where the breeze will sing a spring song, which flower will be delivered as a love gift, and which other will fall on a grave.

The rain departs…

Well! Need to get go, I am due at a very hot place. I am already late, people there must be burning in the sun and praying for me. I am sorry, I can’t take you along. But you can just feel relaxed by leaving this to Fate. Blame it, shame it, or accept it. It won’t change.

The only right it gives to us is appreciating the human that holds us high. And I am going to give thanks to all fathers on the planet by sparkling my drops on earth. Especially from the side of girl child because I share the gender with them. It’s not a promise but I shall try my best to shower on earth on each Mother’s & Fathers Day.

The sky turned grey, ear-piercing thunderstorms and rain caught speed. Rose smiled, looked up at the sky, and said loudly. Rain, my regards to all the fathers.

Photo by Juliane Liebermann on Unsplash