Being a democratic Dad
By: Sathes Kumar Kanagaraj
Tags: Daughters, Dads, Debate, Democracy, Stories

It was a pleasant breezy evening with the clock chiming 7 but Devaraj knew he has to weather a storm today.

He was browsing through news channels when he heard the rusted gate screech in pain. “How was the movie Suji” — Devaraj asked, putting the TV on mute.

“Good” she mumbled without any emotion.

“and the internet connection guy came today to check the slow internet speed. And by the way, do you want the internet speed to be increased to 15 Mbps? It’ll cost Rs. 200 extra per month” — continued Devarajan, hoping to get her into a conversation.

“whatever” — came as a careless reply with her eyes glued to her phone screen.

Not being able to tolerate this mounting tension any longer, Devaraj was determined to breach the stubborn fort this time. “Suji, can we talk?” Devaraj asked, clearing his voice and sitting erect. She sat in the sofa near his arm chair prudently without making any eye contact.

“On a scale of 1–10, how angry are you with me?” Asked Devaraj.

“15” replied a poker-faced Suji which induced a smile in Devaraj.

He hid it quickly by clearing his throat again and continued with a serious tone: “Look, I’m extremely sorry for letting you down on my birthday. And also, with blood pressure, I should have stayed at home. But these aren’t ordinary times to think and act for one’s own personal well-being. How can I not worry when such heinous things are committed by thugs on students, that too inside the campus of eminent institutions in the national capital? You very well know that your cousin is studying in JNU and thankfully he is safe. I am also looking for UPSC training centres in Delhi for you and how can I, as a citizen and more importantly as a parent not worry when students can’t even study and express their thoughts freely?” asked Devaraj, venting out his frustration.

“Appa, yes I completely understand your point. But it was a special day — it was your birthday! We celebrate every birthday in a grand fashion at midnight with all of us together. And I can’t be with you next year as you want me to pursue UPSC coaching in Delhi and that’s why I wanted to make it memorable this time. Knowing all this, you just stormed off in your bike without even informing us. And Do you not think that your safety, as well as the wellbeing of your family should be considered at all while deciding about your political commitments? If the eminent historian Ramachandra Guha can be manhandled and dragged in a city 2000 kms away from the epicentre of power and protests, then what chance do you think you have against such violent and brutal forces? We are just ordinary middle-class citizens. What power do we have?” — Sujatha asked with her emotions pouring out.

“Oh, so power is your problem isn’t it? Come with me, I’ll show you” said Devaraj, and led her to the small room, neatly hidden behind curtains, to the left of the dining room across the main hall.

Opening the small room which was packed with old newspapers and untouched files in wooden cupboards, he turned on the old incandescent bulb and reached for the desk right next to the first cupboard.

With the desk strewn over with loads of old books of all topics and sizes, He picked up a book with a cello taped cover page which had the pictures of Gandhi, Periyar and Ambedkar on it and gave it to her after wiping the dust off with his lungi. Sujatha immediately knew which book it was — it was her favourite CLASS IX Social Science book from which spurred her interest towards politics, society and culture.

“Look at all these leaders you admired from your school. Did any of these leaders have political clout or wealth to oppose the British and uplift the poor? They were all simple, “ordinary” human beings like you and me, who stood tall with nothing but courage against the powerful. Even worse, these leaders faced resistance even from their own society for whose benefit they were fighting for. Despite knowing that they’ll lose wealth, time and even family, they opposed injustice because they simply knew it was the right thing to do. If these common men had remained silent, imagine the plight of India!”

Noting her silence, Devaraj continued: “Suji, you don’t worry so much. Nothing will happen to good people; God is on our side. Political parties and the governments need to be taught a lesson. There is a huge problem with our leaders. They think what they know and what they do is the best for all and they take decisions without consulting anyone. They don’t even know the meaning of democracy.”

“So are you Pa. What do you know about democracy? You are no different from them”, Suji just snapped, dropping a bolt from the blue.

“Have you lost your mind? This is how you understand me? What do you know about me to compare me, who has been a dedicated father, husband and a citizen with thieves and tyrants?” Devaraj just barked, seething in anger.

Sujatha was truly taken aback by his anger as perhaps it was the first instance in a long time Devaraj has yelled at her because she is always the apple of his eye. It was a rude shock to her and she took a moment to process the scenario and get out of the shock.

Not waiting for her response, Devaraj walked out of the room and sat with a thud in the main hall’s sofa.

Within a minute, Suji followed her father with a sorry face in slow, nimble footsteps.

“I’m sorry pa, I shouldn’t have gone that far”, she said, coming closer and holding his hands in hers.

“Its’ okay Suji ma, I shouldn’t have yelled. It just got out of hand” — Devaraj said, making her daughter sit in the nearby cushion chair.

“But please understand this, whatever I have done in life, it was only to give the best for you, Keshav and Nirmala” — he said in a gentle yet firm tone, looking into the eyes of his daughter.

“That is the problem, pa”. It’s just YOU who decides what is best. It’s You and only You. You are the script writer and we should all just silently assign ourselves to whatever role you choose for us” — Sujatha said, without looking at her father.

“You are the script writer and we should all just silently assign ourselves to whatever role you choose for us”

“But, I truly know what’s best for you guys and as a head of the family, it’s my duty. That’s why I’m working hard and sacrificing innumerable things for our family’s sake. I have taken great pains and will do so to see you as an IAS officer and your brother as a successful Doctor” — Devaraj replied with confusions and questions replete in his tone.

“It is what you want us to be pa, it is not want we want us to be! And you have never given us a chance to express it to you. I have always wanted to be a journalist but now I’m studying political science to be an IAS officer, which I totally don’t want to be! Seeing my interest in current events, you just concluded that I should be an IAS officer, You never asked me! This is not just with me. Look at Keshav. You literally forced your son for more than 5 years in his school to play cricket while all he wanted was to get into the school volleyball team. Just because you couldn’t get cricket training in your school days to emulate your hero Sunil Gavaskar, you have forced him to train to be an opening batsman. Leave our cases pa, at least we could adapt.

Did you ever think about Ma? You have complete control over her life — from deciding the colour of her saree in shopping to what relatives she should visit. She was a CBSE school teacher during your marriage pa and now she’s confined to the house just because you thought we need assistance in studies which she had to provide”.

“Did you ever bother to hear us out? Never! Every time you meet any of your friends and relatives, you’ll make it a point to glorify me as a potential IAS officer. There was never a space for our voice as for you, your decision is THE BEST for us. Now, you are questioning your comparison with the government. All those leaders you opposed in the protest yesterday, truly think that their actions are for the absolute best, just like You think when it comes to making family decisions. History is also full of such leaders who never agree to their mistakes as they firmly believe that they are THE BEST decision makers to govern the nation. Whether the Emergency in 1975 or the Sikh riots which killed your classmate in 1984 or even the recent CAA — NRC -NPR, all these were committed by powerful men and women who never bothered to listen to disagreeing voices. The worst part in this is it is us who promote such leaders — It is us who create such leaders, and ironically, it is us who oppose such leaders through protests.

No one wants to be proved wrong here — neither you nor me, neither Indira Gandhi nor Narendra Modi. From family heads to school principals, we should always comply and never speak against the decision of “elders” — they are always “right” and know better. Democracy, basically is about listening and disagreeing pa. No one wants it at home or workplaces, everyone wants it to magically appear in parliaments and party offices.”

It is us who create such leaders, and ironically, it is us who oppose such leaders through protests.

Having poured out, Suji waited for Devaraj’s words, looking into his eyes for answers.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you pa, that too on your birthday. But please think over it. Whether you agree or disagree, whether you accept or reject, I’m open to listening to you” — Sujatha said in a delicate voice and left for her room feeling surprisingly unburdened.

“But whatever be, I know you love us a lot pa” — Suji said with a warm smile, before finally closing her room door.

Devaraj was indeed in a shock and was unable to process everything that happened between him and his daughter. There was a sense of fear and helplessness within him now as a nagging question started to form and torment him — What if he was wrong the whole time? If he was wrong, then was he a bad father and a terrible husband? Did he dominate his wife and children from the very beginning?

When Devaraj was lost in his own world, grappling with questions, the (muted) TV without gaining any attention, continued to telecast Arnab Goswami aggressively dominating and shouting in his own inimitable style.