Papa and Mum had the perfect composition, having children - three girls and three boys. Two of them, the youngest boy Desmond and the fourth child Jacky, as with my Papa, have passed on. At the moment, there are two boys and two girls left. I reflected on how the composition remained intact at 2:2 after their deaths.
Together, we'd bring the house down. However, we were quiet when forced to study or finish our homework. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were elaborate affairs since Mum was a great cook. Papa came home during lunchtime, so she cooked his favourite food just as any Malayali wife would, to keep her husband happy. And, he loved her cooking.
As children, we'd fight over the smallest things. Desmond got it the most-not from me, though, since I protected him a lot. Most of the time, the other siblings would bully him into doing something for them, take his favourite toy to play with, or say something to make him cry. He'd run to me for comfort. Then I'd fight with them about it. It would turn out to be a messy affair after that. When Mum intervened, everything turned messy - we'd be punished. Haha.
When Papa was at work, we'd run wild and be 'uncontrollable.' So, Mum always had a cane ready. Can you believe she had a cane for each of us? Yes, she did. Haha. That threat, however, was quickly forgotten, and we'd turn boisterous whenever it suited us. We'd run around the furniture a lot, dropping the vases accidentally or pulling at the curtains Mum had meticulously sewn and put up in the living room. She'd be shouting at us from the kitchen, but then, our voices were louder and drowned her voice out.
When Papa came home from work, we'd pretend to be angels. However, Mum would complain and he'd scold us just to be on her side. But, he'd go back to his newspapers in a second after that short spat of scolding us. We were not afraid to show him our report cards, unlike Mum. He'd look at it, maybe scold us, just a little for not doing better, then forget about it the next instant - we were back to being his angels. So unlike Mum, who even sits through our studying moments before an exam, no matter what hour, and gets angry if we don't do well in a subject. She'd be ranting about it for days.
But through it all, there was a sentence we used frequently when we got angry with each other."Wait till Papa gets home!" It worked most of the time. No one wanted to be scolded by Papa. I miss him. May his Soul Rest in Peace.
Fathers are to be cherished since they are the first men in our lives, who have taught us the wisdom to love and be loved in return.
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!
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