Firstly I could never call my father daddy. He has always been addressed by the traditional Telegu “Naina” and referred to as “My father” by my sisters and me. Even when I was a 18 month old, blindly aping my hero-worshipped older cousin and saying everything he said, I began calling my mother “Mummy” but my father remained “Naina”.
Nomenclature while indicative is the least of the issues. The main issue is not even that my Father doesn’t understand me(I’d trust him to pick my friends, my career, the books I ought to read, the life I can and ought to lead). But rather that I don’t understand him. I don’t understand how he understands me so well, what he does or did, and why, what he’s thinking, how he judges people, how he judges me (understanding and judging being different), how he got to be the super-liberal that he is coming as he does from his uber-conservative family. Everything I know about my father, his values, his life, his opinions is through my mother. My father, in short remains this mysterious, intimidating, quiet, hard working, brilliant, congress supporting, can’t remember having hugged (and I’m sad/sorry to say this last part) ATM.
It’s not like we haven’t tried. Imagine you’re a 19 year old, culturally confused, guilt stricken, ADHDd girl, trying to gain some gyaan from her father on how to deal with college (he went through the same thing after all, balancing family values with new-found freedom, the pressures of a professional course et al). You pluck up your courage and ask him what he did in college, how he spent his time, you stammer and you stutter and after minutes spent trying to frame the conversation in your head, imagining a nice heart to heart, you get this reply “TT- I played a lot of TT in my spare time”.
Nomenclature while indicative is the least of the issues. The main issue is not even that my Father doesn’t understand me(I’d trust him to pick my friends, my career, the books I ought to read, the life I can and ought to lead). But rather that I don’t understand him. I don’t understand how he understands me so well, what he does or did, and why, what he’s thinking, how he judges people, how he judges me (understanding and judging being different), how he got to be the super-liberal that he is coming as he does from his uber-conservative family. Everything I know about my father, his values, his life, his opinions is through my mother. My father, in short remains this mysterious, intimidating, quiet, hard working, brilliant, congress supporting, can’t remember having hugged (and I’m sad/sorry to say this last part) ATM.
It’s not like we haven’t tried. Imagine you’re a 19 year old, culturally confused, guilt stricken, ADHDd girl, trying to gain some gyaan from her father on how to deal with college (he went through the same thing after all, balancing family values with new-found freedom, the pressures of a professional course et al). You pluck up your courage and ask him what he did in college, how he spent his time, you stammer and you stutter and after minutes spent trying to frame the conversation in your head, imagining a nice heart to heart, you get this reply “TT- I played a lot of TT in my spare time”.
My mother still tries to get us to talk, and he very sweetly does call me every now and then enquiring about my state of affairs and finances, the weather and my health, but I still hem and haw and I’m no closer to sharing myself with him the way I am able to with my mother or even you who’re reading this blog and nowhere near getting him to talk about himself.
If I’m bad my sister is worse, she isn’t able to extract conversations from my mom and has to use me as the guide to understanding our mother. Knowing how it feels to not know a parent, I decided this situation required some expert interfering and subtly ordered my mom to start talking to her. The next day I get a call from my sister, who tells me that mommy rang her up and whined to her for an hour and she wants to, but doesn't know how to tactfully tell my mother to stop whining because,...... thats how life is. Just imagining the sight of my mother being told that “thats how life is” by my very lost and extremely lazy and unaccepting sister makes me want to burst out in laughter and made me realize that some people are just not meant to talk no matter how closely they’re related.
I tried to cheer up my sister by telling her that I’m not able to talk to our father which didn’t cheer her up one bit since neither is she. So I asked my sister for permission to tell my mother the whole story in a humorous manner, and it was grudgingly granted. My sister then messaged my mom on gtalk telling her that soon she and I would be laughing at my sisters expense, this she thought could be another opportunity to chat up our mother. Unfortunately my dad... ooops my Father saw the message and called back wanting to know what the joke was. My sister has given up. Naina if you read my blog, now you know. I love, admire and respect you and if we can’t talk, well, I'm not worrying, thats How life is!
If I’m bad my sister is worse, she isn’t able to extract conversations from my mom and has to use me as the guide to understanding our mother. Knowing how it feels to not know a parent, I decided this situation required some expert interfering and subtly ordered my mom to start talking to her. The next day I get a call from my sister, who tells me that mommy rang her up and whined to her for an hour and she wants to, but doesn't know how to tactfully tell my mother to stop whining because,...... thats how life is. Just imagining the sight of my mother being told that “thats how life is” by my very lost and extremely lazy and unaccepting sister makes me want to burst out in laughter and made me realize that some people are just not meant to talk no matter how closely they’re related.
I tried to cheer up my sister by telling her that I’m not able to talk to our father which didn’t cheer her up one bit since neither is she. So I asked my sister for permission to tell my mother the whole story in a humorous manner, and it was grudgingly granted. My sister then messaged my mom on gtalk telling her that soon she and I would be laughing at my sisters expense, this she thought could be another opportunity to chat up our mother. Unfortunately my dad... ooops my Father saw the message and called back wanting to know what the joke was. My sister has given up. Naina if you read my blog, now you know. I love, admire and respect you and if we can’t talk, well, I'm not worrying, thats How life is!
8 comments:
Actually, Im startled you shared something this personal on your blog.
"...that some people are just not meant to talk no matter how closely they’re related." - Yeah, relate to that.
Gets me wondering what my dad would think if I wrote a blog post in similar vein, as Im wondering what your dad would think reading this post :)
bah! meet Ramsub, the queen of oversharing and whining. Must tone it down and use "I" a little less.
as to what my dad will think.... I don't know, not sure I want to know either, (warning, overshare) I've reached a stage where Im genuinely scared to find out what hes thinking of.
Either of my parents woud be devastated if I had blogged something like this. But the fact reains that whether or not I get closer to them than I am, I can never even make an attempt like your fumbling TT one :P I just assume what they would think and go on with my life.
Let's see if you're able to talk to your dad any better after this post :D
i just can't communicate properly with no human being, no matter how hard i try, or do i? :P
'nomenclature though indicative, is not the issue'
ah.
but it is.
most of these communication 'rules' per se are set by a culture. are set by tradition. the fact that we name something means we give it... well meaning.
so we have different ways of speaking/painting/filming/blogging these meanings across, the point is, that certain definitions exist. and as the beloved 6 year old calvin once wisely said 'i reject your reality and substitute my own'...you can see how knowing the existing definitions is paramount to be able to get your own across.
maybe thats why serials hold so much appeal. becoz through some simple(or increasingly complex) relationships between mother and daughter, friends, captain of the firefly and his crew, they bring out issues of well, the way the world works (or how it should).
and that too through fictional characters that we can only fall in love with. one of the brilliant things is how they put into WORDS something that stays undefined(or un-named) in our heads.
and they make you laugh.
which is infinitely important.
and part of the reason we love these characters so.
oh yea.
i forget what the point was.
but i assure you, it all makes sense in my head.
also. i wonder if sometimes the 'daddy' just feels left out. he doesnt know how to talk to his teenage daughter any more, while she sends her mother special gtalk messages about random funniness.
and we all know how important the random funniness is.
it must be a lonely job. being a person who doesnt know how to communicate.
ah. what must it be like to be able to say it. not sure if i'll ever be able to; and since my actions can't spell that well...
but Pa, if you read her blog, now you know.
is ur dad really gud at tt?
is he coming to coll sometimes??
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