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Dad

I was seated at my desk trying to complete some homework I was totally blotching. That's when my Dad dawdled out of his room, placing an open newspaper in front of me. My parents always suggest me articles to read early in the morning. My first-hand reaction was: Later, Dad! I shoved the newspaper aside. "There's your name in there," he pronounced.

A few months before that moment, I was having one of our concrete discussions about politics and the lack of proper introspection when it comes to policies and governmental actions with my Dad. He only has this one itch. He talks talks and talks but never in front of people. He is a talker, not a doer. So he challenged me to voice out my thoughts, when I complained about his passiveness and slacktivism despite such a great brain and heart, I must add. Of course, thus was born my blog ‘Our Alter Ego’
In many ways, my Dad has been an instrumental figure in making me who I am. I have been an only child for the first 6.5 years of my life and Dad was my direct competitor when it came to having the attention of my Mom, to sack races and closing the main gate at night. I was much of my Dad's personal backpack as he would carry me along with him on his back or on his bicycle to meet and greet his friends in the locality. Dad has been more of an older friend. I'm here talking about those small instances where he would cajole me into smiling and forget about the good spanking I got from Mom. Dad used to take care of my bathroom duties when I was a toddler, fool me into eating boiled vegetables by distracting me with paint and brushes.

Truly speaking, he's been an inspiration for all the men who genuinely want to help achieve gender neutrality in a household. He taught me how to use a screwdriver and fix broken doors and cupboards. He's taught me how to kick start a dead engine and change a car tire. He introduced me to the world of informatics and web designing. He made it a must that I knew how to change a bulb, paint a wall, mow the grass and wash the car. My dad has had a far greater influence on me than my Mom, no wonder I'm often called his shadow. But most importantly, he taught me compassion, gentleness, kindness, sharing, hard work. He taught me how to use a mop and a broom. He was the one who initiated me to the kitchen. He basked my childhood in science documentaries, the very early understanding of the water cycle and photosynthesis when I was five. He taught me the habits of a gentleman and chivalry displays. He taught me mannerism and codes of social conducts and I take much of my sense of hospitality, diplomacy and political correctness from him.

I remember the day my Dad asked me to carry a lady's purse as a matter of gender education and I instantly rebuked: ''You don't do it, so why should I Dad?'' My Dad always instigated me to go beyond the norm with his compliant nature. It is his submission to injustices and exposition to exploitation that drove me into someone who stands up for herself. He titillates my rebellious drive but never stopped me from questioning things. We both have different views on various topics, he, however, protects my right to have those opinions.

Thus, I have discovered who I wanted to be through what my Dad is not as well as what he is. Most fundamentally thus, he helped me define my value of independent thinking and being.


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