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My father Abdul Rahman, my fatherly friends
Everett Blauvelt and DD Maini |
My father is my hero. He opened the windows of wisdom to me and led
his life as an example. He was one of the most open minded persons I
have known; he had prejudice towards none, indeed, if I pass that
test and I am close, I would like to have my head stone read "zero
prejudice". Thank
you Dad!
Much of my sense of equality and feeling on par with everyone comes
from his life model.
I have to use the disgusting word “Untouchable” to describe the
situation in the early 60's of India. Yes, a group of people
were called untouchables, indeed they make up 3rd of India's
population. I will share a few examples that may make you
shudder. Indeed, the grand parents of African American youth,
and the older generation of Native Americans may relate with
this. Thank God, both America and India have made tremendous
progress in civility, but it is shameful, this is still a
practice in many nations.
Unfortunately, that was a fact of life when I was growing up in
India. “They” worked outside, and were not allowed in Hindu,
Muslim, Christian, Sikh and other homes. My Dad broke all the
rules, not only they would come in our home, but would eat in
the same plates we would eat, and my mother would cheerfully
make tea for them in the same cups we would drink. Never were
they looked down or talked down… (This was common) to Mara,
Naga…and others who worked for us from time to time. My Dad’s
actions had a big impact on me, and my mother had continuously
reinforced those values. He said it was the right thing to do.
In the early sixties, water was drawn from the open wells in my
town, and I watched the first water lines laid in the town. The
public water faucets were set in the corner of every other
street. We all went to collect water, and I watched some of the
most humiliating acts there. After
one of “them” collected the water, a few from my line would go
to the faucet and bloody wash the faucet several
times before they collected the water, and I could see the pain
on the faces of others waiting in the line. The only good thing
was the lines and “they” had equal opportunity with every one,
even thought there were two lines.
We simply cannot appreciate Mahatma Gandhi enough, the father of
my nation of birth, he called them “Harijan” God’s people and
gradually the word became a descriptor of the people. They are
called Dalits as well. The founding fathers were ahead of their
times, like the founding fathers of America. The wrote great
constitutions which are gradually being emancipated, we still
have a long ways to go.
My Dad was screamed at by his friends and local leaders (he was
a council man and a Mayor of the town) for allowing “these”
people in our homes. My Dad had the balls to defy the world and
always did what was the right thing, and thanks to my Dad for
passing on those balls to me.
He treated all of us kids with dignity and I am pleased I got to
be disciplined at least once, the memory of which consistently
reminds me to get my act together. I guess I replicated that
with my children to the point my kids would actually say, Dad,
you should have disciplined us. I did not see the need for it. I
am fine and they are fine too. I did give them the cold shoulder
that my father had given me to straighten me out, and it worked
both ways, although my daughter was a tough cookie, she would
not budge, she almost behaves like my mother with me and I loved
it.
He taught that life isn't worth as much if we cannot stand up
and help a fellow being. I
was about ten years old and watched a man fall off his bicycle
with his big bag of raw rice (paddy) and was struggling to get
back on it, and I wasn't going to help the man. I saw my father
about 100 feet away, and the way he sped towards me got me
frightened for the first time in my life... Instincts work as my
guilt warned it. I dashed inside the home and a few minutes
later after helping the guy he was in… I climbed on top of the
paddy bags in a corner of the house, I thought he could not get
me there, so he goes outside and plucks a long branch off the
mulberry tree and gives me a few good ones. "My son will never
do that" after that conditioning, I have developed the habit of
stopping for everyone who needs help. I dare not watch and not
do something about it.
He was affectionate, caring and kind towards everyone I know.
Every one in the town called him "Mamu"- uncle. They all came to
him with issues, they trusted his integrity to do the just
thing.
He was rarely angry, and I
can count on the number of times I have been angry on my finger
tips; thanks to him, he passed it on. If you are a father,
remember, your kids are likely to emulate you, think for them
what you want them to be as grownups. What would you want them
to be?
When I was about 5 years old, one of our tenants was angry at
his brother, he was nearly white but had turned red in anger, he
picked up a big slab of rock and was about to slam it on his
brother.. my Dad rushed and grabbed the rock… the seething look
on that man’s face is permanently etched in my mind… the moment,
I find myself angered, I think of him and said to myself, Ayyo
(Bangalore expression for amazement) I don’t want to look that
ugly and my anger vanishes. In the last 15 years I must have
been angry no more than three times. Ruben, my serviceman went
to cash the check from the bank, and the bank asked too many
ID’s because he was Mexican. I flew off the handle on the phone
and cursed the hell out of the manger, until he gave him the
cash.
Pluralism indeed runs in my family. He taught one of the biggest
lessons of my life in social cohesiveness and dealing with
extremism that I continue to reflect in my talks, acts and write
ups.
Remember your child will work, live and perhaps marry someone
from a different race, ethnicity, faith, culture or a nation… as
a father (its father’s day - it would have been mother on
mother's day) have you thought of preparing your son or daughter
for that day and save them misery of prejudice? I believe deep
down every father wants “happiness” for their kids, but
sometimes, messes up with them by the display of his own
un-checked prejudices. I am glad I "dragged" my children to
every place of worship for them to be familiar with how other
people worship the creator. Happiness is feeling safe and secure
with every human out there and it comes when we are exposed to
it.
I think of my Dad almost every other day, but today, I am going
to sit down, meditate and think about all the good things he has
done to me, including my education, and pray for his soul. I do
the Muslim way, as that is the way I am familiar with, but you
do your own way, whatever makes you comfortable. You Dad will be
happy whether he is alive with you or in the heavens.
I am also going to pray for the health of my fatherly-friends
Mr. Everett Blauvelt and Shri D.D. Maini, 97 and 86 respectively
and hope to visit both of them today; one is in senior care and
the other in hospital. Both are very dear to me.
Happy father’s day to you as well. If you need a ear to hear
you, you are welcome to call me today
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