The road he traveled: Lesson from my father

We sited around the kitchen fire barely visible each other’s face by a dim lamp light. The nights were often overwhelmed by the chirping sound of cricket and the hissing sound of neighbor’s cooker. The nights were dark and quiet, yet the home was filled with exuberance and enthusiasm. My father would sit on a wooden bench with a cup of black tea in his hand and begin to narrate the story that he never shared with anyone but kept heavily within.
The story is called ‘The lost acquaintance’. Once, my father shared a very close and genuine relationship with his friend, whom he called Mongjem (best friend). His friend was from the western part of Naga countryside. Their friendship was more or less inseparable and no force of nature could break the bond they shared. From the dawn to the dusk they were always together. One cannot go anywhere without accompanied by the other and the hollowness they felt in one’s absence seems like the day when heaven collapse. He reminisce how he and his friend spend the day with so much joy and laughter that appear to be forever. But soon the ever friendship of euphoria has come to an end, it was time to say goodbye to his dear friend. The goodbye he never saw coming. The day of reluctant departure (not death) had come and to say long farewell was uneasy unsure when they could meet ever again. The flashback of memories flooded his mind and the rumbling tears run down through his cheek that day leave him with a profound story to share. He exclaimed! The moral of the story convey a meaningful lesson and he goes “Being close with someone is the sweetest thing but too attached to them could have a worst repercussions”. The first lesson I learnt through the moral of the story was to be cautious and discern proximity and attachment.
There’s range of lesson that I learnt from my father. The second lesson was “The world is too busy to care about your feelings”. Everybody is engaged with their own happiness and sorrows. The mistake you make today will be remembered day or two and your success indifference. It instantly reminds me of Mark Twain words where he says;
“When I was young, I worried about what other people thought of me.
Now that I’m old, I’ve realized they weren’t thinking about me at all.”
If we acknowledge and entitle people’s opinion too often in our life we tend to neglect our own voice. If we shy away from the opportunity in fear of others school of thought we are burying ourselves in the hole we intentionally dug.
The third lesson was “Illiterate doesn’t mean inept to teach”. It is oddly to say he is illiterate in the 21st century. Yet, despite his lack of mounted files of educational qualification certificate, he never failed to teach his son to behave with integrity and rectitude. He never took a pen/pencil to teach me how to write the first alphabet letter A nor did he sang ‘baa baa black sheep’ to me, but what he did however, was the paramount words of wisdom that flows from his heart for his son to grow to be a true gentleman. These ignite a sense of courage that knowledge isn’t the only tools to create a home but with every words of genuine wisdom of a father.
The fourth lesson was “Tolerance is not cowardice.” It’s a common misconception to misjudge the silent ones as weak; being forbearance is sluggard and clemency as powerless. The paradox is that only a man of sturdy at heart can forgive and live a tolerant life. Enduring the hurt, the pain and insolent only taught my father that vengeance and reprisal can only ignite the existence
flame to flare-up more. His philosophy of tolerance taught me that strong man doesn’t necessary indicates Samson like body structure and avenge his foe but demonstrate Joseph like figure who swallow the ache of betrayal by his own brothers. The fifth and the indispensible lesson was “Prayer is more valuable than gift of gold and silver”. Every silent prayer teardrop can make a significant difference than a mighty voice that echoes through the hills of haughty and the valley of impudent.
Father is not just a mere physical figure but he is someone who is stalwart at heart, deliver solicitude to his children’s and oblige to his responsibility. The solidarity of home in father’s absence is no exception to a home without a mother. No father is perfect, yet their everyday challenges in navigating the complexity of life is too difficult to ignore. He is someone who built a roof over our heads, brings food on our plate and place clothes to our wardrobe that seems magically appear. Conclusively, there is a renown phrase that says “Responsibility make a men, not maturity.” He is someone who is not afraid to enhance responsibility even if it perils himself in the abyss of danger. And yes, that someone is my Father.
HAPPY FATHER’S DAY OPA!
Opa Kijung
Opa Ongpa
Opa Bulom
Opa Ngandang
Opa Shahkup
Ailung Avennoho Phom