As far as the first memories I can recollect, I have never been a papa’s girl. I fought with my dad at a drop of a hat. Couldn’t see eye to eye on anything. I always have a hunch of how everything should be. Relationships, equations, bonds and love. My hunches or should I just say ideas (?) relate with very few other people’s.
I have always wanted a paternal bond with someone I could share anything and everything with. There shouldn’t be a need to hide my love interests or any interests for that matter. Those with hatred included. I’ve tried but I just couldn’t connect. I can’t get myself to talk as freely as I like. I don’t feel like everything that’s his is mine. It has always felt like there was a Divine Prohibition of sorts.
I recollect spending my childhood dreaming about someone to understand me. I knew I wasn’t wrong. But my ideas just never fit in with anyone else’s. Not my mother’s (as I realised much later in life, unfortunately a little too late), not my father’s and not my uncles’ or aunts’. Or any familial connection actually. I grew up confused. Feeling I might just be wrong. Like everyone around was thinking the same thing. How can I, a mere child be correct?
Everyone could perceive the difference but they all said I would grow up one day. Grow up to realise that dreams and reality are totally different. Grow up to see the world as everyone else did. And, it couldn’t be further than the truth. As I grew up, I started having faith in my dreams. Just when I hit an abyss in life and gave up on my dreams, things happened which put my faith right up on a pinnacle.
I distinctly remember the day I met J uncle (in India the relation always comes after the name instead of the other way round so I am sticking with the same here). I was about eleven or twelve. I was fed up of searching for THAT one person who I would confide in. My fears, my loves, my everything. I was getting more and more disappointed to the point of almost giving up.
Then one day mom had a yoga potluck at home. She had hyped the qualities. She gave the impression that they were the nicest people on planet earth. But our definitions of nice are so varied that what she finds nice, I won’t find remotely nice. I thought I was going to be disappointed again. Very very disappointed. My hopes were high up and they were soon to be shattered?
Not quite. I know, dejected, I sat on the couch as I had no one I could really talk to. I had on my sad face. A face not many realise and you can easily just get lost in a big crowd. Anyway, just as the evening was coming to a close, J uncle (he being the STAR attraction) walks right up to me and says a simple,”Bye, it was lovely meeting you”. My life changed. In my heart The ray of hope which just had mere embers was burning brighter than ever. A lot of wood and fuel had been added to stoke it to glory.
It took another good twelve years after this incident for me to really talk to him properly. Now that I do, I can’t stop. He’s not my biological father. But he still knows my fears and exactly what I am thinking. All about my most frivolous crushes…and the love of my life. THE love. And on the face of it J uncle is nothing more than a yoga teacher to me. But the bond is so deep. So amazing. Nameless and still so meaningful.
Is it any wonder that I feel so incomplete without seeing him and obviously not talking to him for a week?? Without those random talks standing in the parking space. Those tight paternal hugs which I have been bereft of for the last three decades. Being at complete peace from knowing that he will always be there. For he always understand the unspoken and knows the Unknown. Blessed training please be over soon!!!