Little Things

Do you remember the first time your father bought you a chocolate or a toy or anything you liked? Do you remember the times, when the little you waited for your father to come back from office to shower you with love? 

I don’t. 

As much as I think about my childhood, I can’t come up with a single happy memory with my father. He was never there. He was this non existential person who sponsored our studies, food and other stuff one requires to survive. I used to think that’s what fathers do. It was normal to me.  I remember I was surprised to see a lot of girls around me idolizing their dads. I couldn’t understand the concept. 

Well, I grew up and made peace with having a dysfunctional family. Honestly, I didn’t even miss all the fatherly love. I had many people around me who loved me and showered me with all the things I needed.

But then 4 years ago, when I was 22 , staying at home & preparing for some exam, my father came back from one of his evening walks and gave me a chocolate. He didn’t say anything, just threw a chocolate in my direction. I don’t think he realised that it was the first time he actually got something for me. 

But I did. I looked at the chocolate and I cried. Not heavy breathing, thumping my chest crying, just a tear rolling down my cheek crying. 

That chocolate meant something else to me. I don’t think a chocolate would have made a kid as happy as a twenty something girl that day. I don’t even know if I should call that happiness. It was just a little thing, yet it wasn’t. It was an unusual thing and I don’t know how to express it in words. Sometimes you just feel some emotions you can’t define. It was just that.

Now that I am at home again, every other evening my father gets me these little things- puffs, chips, kurkure. He has a ten rupee budget for every other evening. Today he bought me these soya puffs with chinese flavour and I made a face as I didn’t like that flavour. He then asked me which ones did I like. I told him to get me the pink packets. He went back to the shop and came back with red ones. I took pity of my poor, old father and acted like I loved the red tomato flavour(which honestly are even worse than the earlier chinese ones). I am still trying to figure out a way to make him understand the difference between red and pink. 
Sometimes, little things like these help me to relive my childhood- this one where my father gets me chocolates. May be, the universe does compensate us for everything. It might be a little late but everyone gets what s/he deserves. 

To each his due. 

24 thoughts on “Little Things

    • Oh dear…. I can understand. Bringing chocolates for me doesn’t make my father less guilty of what nuances he created in my mother’s life. This was just a snippet from my long story. My father I guess still doesn’t understand love or care… It might be more of a responsibility for him. Someday I’ll write about it… Meanwhile I hope you find peace somehow.
      And thanks for all the previous comments on my blog. Sorry I couldn’t reply to those. I was in a bad mood and nothing seemed to get me out of my misery. Hope you’ll understand.

      Liked by 1 person

    • Yeah.. he’s not good with showing emotions. And there are many things which I couldn’t write here. He has done several wrongs but as a father he has been okay. May be someday I’ll write the complete story… Till then let’s rejoice the little things .

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  1. I am sorry fr your childhood, I can never know how horrible and painful that must feel, but as you said, each one gets what he/she deserves in the end. It might be late for the chocolates now, but what counts is the little things that he does for you, and the immense pleasure that you gain from that.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You kept your heart out for your readers.. it was not only emotional but practical. Appreciating the little things And being satisfied with our limited resources is the most imp. yet often neglected topic.

    However I remember my first gift from my dad.. he bought me a ball where alphabets were written with one word all around it. Maa used to spend the every afternoon and evening with me along with the ball.

    I cried for the first time when I realized that whatever I’m getting is someone’s dream.. that makes me happy as to what makes me privileged enough than others to receive those unconditional love.

    I wish the more we respect and appreciate what we have, the more we will value our present and work for those who plead to god everyday to live our life at least once..

    My best wishes and prayers for you
    You are a very genuine person.. very courageous to write this post.. pls don’t cry.. take care !

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you for such a heartfelt comment. And don’t worry, I am not upset about all this anymore. It just felt unreal the first time it happened.
      I have been guilty of comparing my life with others. I do it many a times. But then I see people who aren’t even half privileged as me. I stay at a village and see so many people struggling for basic things like a shelter or a toilet or earnings enough to sustain their lives. I hate myself that time for blaming god or destiny for my career or whatever things I lack in life. I have a great deal to go before I get mature enough to not compare my life with others. Still a lot to learn. Hopefully I’ll overcome these shortcomings.

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  3. I scrolled past half a dozen posts in which you felt apologetic about posting negative things but honestly, you shouldn’t be. After all, it’s a part and parcel of our lives. Who knows how many people out there might be deriving strength from your efforts to keep swimming in search of that ever shifting shore 🙂
    And this post, it’s such a lovely acknowledgement of a tiny gesture that makes life bearable!
    I hope you experience many more such gestures from your loved one!
    Cheers!

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