Woman of Justice

I couldn't get time to attend my dad's retirement party at Chandigarh.

After one month I visited my parents' place and enquired about the party.

Though dad was not happy with me, being absent on that day, he narrated the whole story enthusiastically.

Mom and brother also participated in the conversation, but half-heartedly.

I was a bit confused. Mom tried to say something but dad snubbed her.

"Let me finish first!"

"Beta, don't look at them, they are angry with me. If you were with me you would have seen yourself, how everybody was praising my performance."

"That's good, dad."

"Yes, that was a nice party, it's your mom and brother, who spoiled my mood, way back home." 

After a pause he said.

"Now the rest of the story your brother will tell you."

With a sad note, he sat on the sofa, as if looking another side with ears towards us.

My brother told me the party was good, most of the staff delivered a short lecture on him. Lastly, he was invited.

My dad was having very good communication skill. The whole audience was fascinated with his lecture. After getting excited, finally, he started singing the Bhajan, with folded hands and closed eyes. (Dad was very religious, daily havan and pooja path)

Initially, the audience was enjoying it, but later everyone got bored. Dad was very bad at singing, but we never dared to tell him. (angry old man)

One minute, two minutes, three minutes, bhajan lasted for almost 5/6 minutes.

Bhajan was yet to finish, the audience started clapping, ultimately my dad stopped and happily sat on his chair. He didn't even think once, why the audience clapped right between the bhajan.

Later on, on the way back home, mom tried to convey him. But dad didn't give ear to her, rather got angry.

I was just listening to the story of that day, dad almost jumped in between us and dragged me to another side and whispered in my ear.

"Don't listen to them, they both are of the opposition party."

"Dad, I'm in your party."

With a smile I assured him.

"Beta, you are the judge of today's debate, first listen to my bhajan, then give an honest opinion, don't be biased. You swear, just tell the truth."  (तुझे लगे कसम, सच बोलना बेटा सच)

Dad sang the whole bhajan with the same enthusiasm, folded hands, and closed eyes.

My God, he sang so bad. Now the ball was in my court.

His innocent face expressions were convincing me to lie, but his swearing and Woman of justice, carrying scale in hand and folded eyes, compelled me, to say the truth.

Very politely I said,

"Dad you sang very well, but what was the need?"

I knew what consequences I was going to face now. With anger and frustration, dad almost shouted at me:

"You, what you think of yourself, Lata Mangeshkar. You are also with the opposition party."  (बड़ी आई खुद को लता मंगेशकर समझने वाली)

And he left the room.

It took me almost 2/3 days, to bring him to normal. Those days how I stopped humming myself, I know. (usually, I can't do any household chores without humming)

Now my dad is no more, but today writing about him made me smile many times.

Love you, Dad, and missing badly.