THE GREATEST GIFT

(Note- Although this short story was written five years ago for a Tata Group magazine, it still remains one of my personal favourites.)

“How did you do in your final exams this year, young man?” I looked up at my father’s friend who, instead of worrying about the prices of Hilsa and Rohu in the fish market, seemed more concerned about my scores. With complete confidence, I replied, “62 percent, Uncle, fourth in class.” My father just kept quiet even though his 10 year old son had just propelled himself from the bottom of the class to fourth at the top.

My father had always been biased towards me. He put me in one of the best schools in Delhi but kept my sister in Kendriya Vidyalaya. He put his money on me even though my sister was a much brighter student. At eight years of age, I had been caught copying my dad’s signature by none other than my mother; I had often lied about stomach ache and headaches just to stay at home on days when I had not done my homework; I had stolen coins from his pockets ….none of this stopped my father from believing that his son had some bright spark and would turn around in life someday. Everyone, including my mother, had given up on me but my father would tell everyone, “One day my son will do well. You just wait and see.”

I managed to get History Honours in college and told my father that I would join the civil services. My father was pleased but I spent the next five years in college more on the football field than in classrooms prompting my friends to joke that I would walk into IFS- Indian Football Service. My father paid a king’s ransom for my admission to special classes but the best I could clear were the first two hurdles of written exams but missed clearing the interviews a couple of times.

My father passed away in the year 2000, still nursing the hope that his son would do well. He never said anything to me but I always felt that somewhere deep inside there was a tinge of sadness for the son who never shone.

Nearly 10 years had passed when my wife and I got an invitation to preside over the Annual Day Celebrations of my daughter’s school as she had topped the nation in the All India CBSE Examination in the science stream. The school used to invite the topper’s parents to address the audience consisting of students, teachers and parents as part of the celebrations. As I walked towards the podium, just could not help remembering my father as I spoke…

“Today as I stand here, I am reminded of my father, 35 years ago. My father would get a letter from the school almost every year just as we got one this year. Each year the letter would be signed by the principal of the school, as it is today. Every year he was asked to come to the school, as we have today. Every year my father would go to the school auditorium, as we have come here today. This is where the similarities end. In my dad’s letter would be written that his son had to get this much of additional marks in Hindi, Mathematics and Science in the final examination if he wished to get promoted to the next class. Not here today. My father would be a sad man on those days….not here today. I am however certain that wherever my dad is today, he will be looking down as a happy and proud man, as I am today. My daughter has given me the greatest gift in the world by repaying my debt to my Dad.”

SS