He whispered to his Dad….. “Let’s play..”

           

                Every child is a mirror showcased to the exterior world, reflecting his/her parents. Let it be a kitten or a puppy or an infant, a father is the primary role model of one’s life. It is always spellbinding to look upon a father-child bond rather than a maternal tie. It is all the more phenomenal to gaze at the paternal bond, surprisingly visible in the feline group.

            I have been indoctrinated in my schooldays that human beings are the only social beings capable of establishing the concept of Family or Home. Lamentably, since human society is mouldering to pieces, it stupefies me a lot to witness the perfect link found among the cat clan. A couple of months back, the golden man at my home came along with a pitch-dark furry lady and introduced us to her. She amalgamated to our batch in two shakes and became a slice of our family though I remained a bit shilly-shallying towards her initially. I felt myself being placed into the slot of a crazy mother-in-law who is jittery of being outstripped of the undivided affection of her son. 

                          Soon I realised, she - the tabby had more commitment and dedication to the family just like a daughter when the sons habitually hang out with their companions at evenings. She used to accompany me in my varied toils from dawn to dusk and forced me notice her purring and lay beside me just making me realise of her presence. Reminding Donne’s compass image, she remained behind the walls with me while her golden man was draping out every eve with his feline companions. Human life or Feline life, a female has to settle down to the family, I guess. I treated her like a daughter-in-law at the outset though she slithered to my bosom soon like a daughter. 

                       With the advancing of days, I knew she was in her preparation for the arrival of the new generation. I was yet again dubious of her chastity and I dallied patiently till the cats were out of the bag. The day came and I had to loiter for another two more weeks to know the truth. Ultimately, at the farther end of the Store-room loft, I saw a purring Mewsic with three little heads. My intention was to spot the colour of the kittens. Had it been a shade other than black or golden, the charge of infidelity was sure to be struck over the black furry tabby.  

                         With the span of a few more days, I witnesses a dollop of golden shade at the loft. To punch down the yucky notions in a human mind, there emerged three kittens plunged in gold. I was nonplussed. The tabby was indeed trustworthy in spite of her clandestine ties with the neighbouring snow white tomcat. Meanwhile, I noticed my golden young man climbing up to the loft to have a look at his children. It was quite interesting to watch a new family flourishing under the control of a young dad and mom. The father visited them over and over again.

                         As days passed, the kittens were brought down from the loft. They played, fought with one another, and lined up with their mother. But they stayed eagerly for the return of their Sire. Every evening, they awaited him. Their father. The moment he entered, they used to rush in haste to steal his first kiss. My golden man had always been serious enough to be positioned as a father. He never played with them. He never talked to them. He never did feed them. But indeed he listened to their stories every evening like a committed father. The black furry lady enjoyed the hushed secrets shared between the dad and the kids. With no brought-down-dowry, with no chunk of bank loans, with no ornaments to be pawned, with no relatives to pair with, with no word of arguments - they too established, the most cozy dream of everyone - a happy family.

                   Quite often, I have noticed the patience of my golden man to lend his ears to his children. A father moulds a child unknowingly, unwittingly - just through a flicker of patience that he can put in place with his kids. A flash of composure could build a rapport of ages with one’s kids. When mankind get compressed within the systems of schedules and meetings, most fathers channel their association with their kids through the mother - the most unkindest way to communicate to one’s own child. A little stretch of time to praise him for his trivial achievements, a pat on his back when he paints an amorphous picture, a kiss on his forehead before he hits the hay or a simple smile - an irrefutable assurance to cast off all his miseries will unquestionably set the spirit of your relation to your baby in the inceptive stage. No relation take roots when your son is already a man or your daughter by now set to be married off. Watering has to be done when the seed is about to sprout. Only a watered seed will give you a full bloomed flower with warmth and fragrance. Irrespective of the fact that I am an Ailurophile, I felt proud of my golden man who has learnt to toy with his mischievous brats since he has set aside his Home-Time absolutely for them. Let the Golden Man be a role model for every Dad around us to template their little ones right from the onset.

A. Krishna Sunder

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