A father is not only the support system of my family but also the person who is my mentor. A professor by profession he has handled both the responsibilities of a father and a mentor beautifully and responsibly. I can’t forget those moments when as a child he used to take out time from his busy schedule and read to me some poems by great poets like Tennyson and Yeats and I used to wonder what those poems used to mean. As I grew up he would tell me the meanings of those poems and in his own way make me understand how beautiful life is.
It was from him that I grew a fondness for poetry. I started writing couplets while I was very young and my father used to read them every day. He used to say that the way I express my emotions is unique and I should continue doing that.
A few years later my performance in studies went deteriorating. I was never the topper but I was a bright student. But that time somehow I couldn’t concentrate. I got really poor marks in my internals and in the finals I didn’t do well either. My father being a professor knew that this was just a temporary phase in my life and this would go away. He was the one person not to lose any confidence in me when I myself had given up all the hope. I remember talking to him that evening all depressed and he listened to me calmly and then spoke at last “ A successful person is not one who wins every time. But someone who fails yet never gives up.” His words still echo in my ears and I can still picture myself sitting in our drawing room in front of his rocking chair.
Getting back my confidence I decided to write about my feelings. I needed a way to express myself. So it was then I started venting out my feelings in the form of a poem. I wrote my first Haiku. I was firstly unaware of what style I was writing in but it was my father who pointed out that poem was a Haiku. He was very happy and greatly impressed by my work and he decided to publish my poem in a magazine. Next month my first publication came out in the monthly children’s magazine and my happiness knew no bounds. However there was one person who was happier than me- my father. He held my hand that day and told me that I would be a great poet one day.
Today when I look back I remember that day clearly. I remember how confident and positive I had felt when my father had held my hand that day. Now after graduating in English Honors from Delhi University, I write for a local newspaper these days. Though I generally write about political articles I also love to write poems and have written many sonnets and Haiku. Recently I wrote about my first hero-my dad. I dedicated that to my father on this father’s day. He rang me up after reading that poem and suddenly I had this urge to see him.
“This father’s day, I am expressing my love towards my dad by participating in the #HugYourDad activity at BlogAdda in association with Vicks.