Recent Entries


General [97]


- Aloque
- Aran
- Payne
- Stupendous Man


RSS 0.90
RSS 1.0
RSS 2.0
Atom 0.3

Visitors to my blog

Fathers and ESP

Neurotron | 23 August 2004, 2:11pm

“When I was your age...” must rate very highly in the sequential progression of Father-to-Son talks / arguments. In the ‘oh no, not that again!’ section. It just HAS to put in an appearance at some stage. We crib and cringe when we hear those 5 words from our parents mainly because we know what’s coming next – first lecture, then most probably an emphatic ‘NO’ to whatever it was we asked for. Or we get saddled with so much guilt that every ounce of enjoyment is squeezed out of the thing.

But there is usually a silver lining...somewhere.

When I joined college, all I wanted was a bike. To complete the whole image ‘college’ conjured up in my head. I honestly believed my dad would dig deep into his vault of magnanimity (which I could only presume actually existed) and, on my birthday, dramatically hand me the keys to a brand new bike. It would be sitting in the garage, and he would come up to me, lecture me first on safety and responsibility (but of course. I was willing to bear that even), and then dangle the keys in front of me and say, with a smile, ‘Happy Birthday, Son’.

I would give that shocked-off-my-ass smile, maybe tear up a little, maybe, just maybe hug him, take the keys and go down to the garage. Ok, so we don’t have an automatic garage door, but bear with me – it was a beautiful fantasy for frig’s sake! Anyway, the shutter would rise, and there would be my new bike – black, gleaming, and on the side stand. It has to be on the side-stand, you understand. The main stand just ain’t sexy enough. Any bike would have done.

I got a gold chain instead.

And exactly what the fuck am I supposed to do with that, eh?! Will it take me to college? Will I be able to bunk more comfortably because I have that thing around my neck? Can my girlfriend sit on it?? Well, if I was wearing it, and…ANYWAY, the point is, it was of no value to me at the time. All the plans I’d made came crashing down. My existence was now officially purposeless. I had no reason to live! I was...

Then I saw the smile on his face.

It wasn’t just any smile. It was swelling with pride, practically beaming. I had absolutely no idea why, but I’m beginning to get an inkling now. This was tradition. A father gives his son a gold chain on his birthday. Relevant or not, it is a sign in south Indian families. An unspoken acknowledgement, a rite of passage. Even with our mostly antagonistic relationship at the time, I could not bring myself to deny him his pleasure in this moment. I smiled, I thanked my parents, wore it all day, and my father was so happy. He never said a word, but I knew. Maybe this is why fathers and sons don’t talk – these crucial moments are all ESP. I never wore that chain again, but I’m sure he’s kept it safe somewhere, so he can look at it from time to time and enjoy what it means to him.

But all that bloody ESP evaporated into thin air when it came to divining what it was I really wanted. He probably knew all along, but all his old fears of girls, friends, waywardness and general ayyashi in my life resulted in no bike. But I had to get a bike! For one year I waited patiently. Next birthday. Long story. Same result.


So I did the next best thing - I blackmailed mom.

Current Mood: Feeling Better
Current Music: Random ringtones the morons around me INSIST on experimenting with.

Posted in General | Next | Previous | Comments (2) | Trackbacks (0)


  1. 1. By aloque  |  23 Aug 2004, 3:11pm

    So, I am back to being the first one to comment on blogs, at least for the day.
    "can my girlfriend sit on it?" rotfl

  2. 2. By whg  |  23 Aug 2004, 8:27pm

    i expected a digicam on my bday and i got gold too :-S

Add comment
Neurotron's blog is proudly powered by, the largest portal for Hyderabad, India.
Design by LifeType and Andreas Viklund.