Sunday, August 31, 2014

Daddy's 'lil girl

No girl likes a mamma's boy.
Girls who date / marry a mamma's boy rue their luck and the others are grateful they haven't gone down that path.
Ironically, boys close to their mothers are supposed to be more respectful towards women, more caring and affectionate - not always, but many a times.
What turns us off mamma's boys? It could be the prospect of dealing with a meddlesome mum-in-law, or the fact that we do not occupy the top priority position in the man's life. It could be we ourselves are so independent that it is weird to involve a parent into our life at this stage, or a million other minor irritants.

But have we ever asked our partners - How is it dealing with a daddy'd little girl?

I proudly claim i am my daddy's little girl.

My emergency contact is still my dad.
He has been my super hero, whose powers keep increasing day by day for me.
The most ardent fan of my cooking is my dad - he claims to LOVE the burnt cakes i make, the salty curries, the imperfect rotis and just about anything i make.
He gets super sad when he watches the movie "Father of the Bride"
When i think i have done something brilliant, and no one seems to acknowledge or appreciate it, i will go to my dad and know for sure that my little achievement will be over estimated and praised like i have won the Nobel Price!
I know he wants to break the neck of the poor doctor who is administering the injection that is making me cry.
He still wants me home by 9 pm and if i want to stay late - my only choice is - he will come pick me up at whatever time i want to come home. At my age of 28, when i have to go parties in my hometown, i still feel like a 16 year old begging my dad to not come to pick me up and embarrass me. In all this without my mother's voice of reason, he would have chauffeured me around everywhere.
When i am sick, his first instinct is to come to where i am, no matter that my husband is taking extremely good care of me, and it is in all probability  just a flu. Again, without my mother's voice of reason, he would be zipping to where i am in his car.
He is the only man i know who completely trusts me with his car and his life! Even if he doesn't trust me, he doesn't show it.
If we go shopping, and my husband and mother have issued strict instructions that i am not to buy anything - as there is no space to store my clothes and bags and books - he will make up a reason / any small achievement in our factory, and say that bag that i had been eyeing in the mall, was a gift to me for that achievement! And no one argues with him.

My first instinct in a bad situation is to call my dad. I may not actually do it and will call my husband - given geographical limitations - but my FIRST instinct is to call him and know that no matter what disastrous kind of mess i may have created, his unwavering answer will be  - "Don't worry, i will be right there" and "right there" means just that. Within seconds he will have mobilized a cavalry of friends, colleagues who stay nearby who have been given strict instructions to reach me till he comes and makes everything ok.

My dad is a very social person - he loves meeting people, making new friends - even at his age. Something we find difficult in our 20s, he manages with ease in his 50s. He always tell my sister and me - "No matter which city / country / continent you are on - you should always have some friend there." And he literally follows this philosophy.
So when i tell him i am planning a trip to South Africa - he gives me contact numbers of friends, when i tell him my sister and me want to go to the Jaipur Lit Fest, he calls his friend and arranges accommodation and transportation for us. When my sister tells him, she needs to go to Bangalore alone, he calls a friend's sister he may have met once in his life, but who assures him that everything will be taken care of.

My first day college away from home, in Pune - he was there, with a bewildered face.
My first day in my post graduation, in Mumbai - he was there, with a proud smile on his face.
When i moved back to Pune from Mumbai for my job, he was again there, this time with a car key in hand :)

I remember my first bus journey to Pune after i had joined college, he came to the bus stop and waited and waved till the bus could no longer be seen and then followed the bus in his car till a turn off for home, and honked our special horn - "honk honk ho ho honk ", so i could lean out of the window and wave him a final goodbye. That was 10 years ago. He still does that!
Now, when i go home every month for work and return, EVERY MONTH, sometimes twice a month, he drops me to the bus stop - and bus colors and sizes and drivers and stops and facilities, have changed over the years, but he hasn't changed his ritual. It is always the same - drop me off, park the car, get my bag, ask me if i want a bottle of water or anything to eat, get in the bus with me, check my seat, check out all the passengers, always meets some acquaintance or friend of his on the bus, tell the acquaintance how his little daughter is traveling on the same bus, extract a promise of protection even at the cost of life of the poor acquaintance ( looking at me, i am sure the person feels - "little", really?), wave goodbye and leave when the driver requests all non travelers to get down, go to my side of of the window, continual waving of goodbyes till we lose eye contact, and then the final "honk honk ho ho honk! "
And i am sure this will continue for the next many years. When he comes to drop me, i think he still sees a little girl in pigtails, going off to some faraway land she has never been to - his little girl.

When i got married, he was the last one to leave my new house, after of course checking out the house, its members, my husband! That was the one and only day i had seen my dad with tears in his eyes. It is till date, the most heart breaking moment of my life.

So maybe it is difficult to be with a daddy's lil girl, just as it is difficult to be with a mamma's boy, maybe even more so!
Or maybe it is easy - its something we need to ask our partners and maybe cut some slack if you are married to / dating a mamma's boy.

I don't know about you, but me - i am and will always be first and foremost - my daddy's lil girl!





1 comment:

  1. My little girl has given words to my emotions. But I am relieved. I no longer need to hide or make excuses for my actions which do look silly. I know now my littile girl has grown up to understand my emotions but not mention/object to my actions.
    Love you Neha.

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