Sunday, June 15, 2014

Father's Day(s)...

The most precious things in life are the moments spent with loved ones. As time passes by, those moments when recalled from heart, time-to-time take us back to them. The more we recollect those moments, the more precious they (be)come to us.

As the world celebrates Father's Day today, my heart goes back to my Father by recollecting very few years of my childhood life that I could hardly remember to recollect.

Childhood- certainly is the only phase of life that looks very precious in life as we grow old. In my opinion, those who could fully spend their childhood with their parents are the most gifted children in the world. That's the age that knows nothing but Mom and Dad. That's the age that world means just Mom and Dad. That's the age when stayed away just for a few days, cries to go back to see Mom and Dad. That's the age that never comes back, but of course everyone wants to go back.

Like many children I did cry a lot to go back to to see my Mom and Dad, but I could only go back and see my Mom but not my Dad. God is great, but not greater than the Hearts of Kids that he makes them cry.

When I recollect those fewer early years of my life that I spent with my Dad, I only can recollect his very pleasant and smiling face; I only can recollect very few days that he used to take me and my brother to a near by park on some very pleasant evenings after he returned home from his school; I only can recollect a couple of movies that he took us to when we felt like on top of the world sitting in a Balcony seat next to him and watching the movie; I only can recollect my only bus journey with my Dad from Tirupati to my school as we missed a train that I was supposed to catch to go back to school after my vacation along with my friend's Dad; I only can recollect one instance of him drawing the portrait of Swamy Vivekananda;  I only can recollect the days that he didn't even let me see him during his last days of fighting with Cancer and asking my Mom to keep me away as I would be frightened if I would see him like that; I only can recollect the very last day I was with many people crying around after God took my Dad away from us; I only can recollect countless moments after that in my life crying alone for him; I only can recollect many many dreams in which he was always coming back to us surprisingly after so many years, but disappearing as I suddenly woke up.

Along with very few memories, my Dad also left a few of his Drawings with us. I love Art. I believe I inherited his skill of Art and hence I always see my Dad in my Art. I also very strongly believe that  he is still living with me and every Art work that I do, I see my Dad in it. I missed much of my childhood without my Dad living with us. Now, I learn that I only can fulfill it by my Art.

Art lives long and Soul lives even longer in it. But I have more than one Soul living in my Arts. Certainly my Dad's soul is next to mine in each of my Art work. He didn't even know that I had inherited his skill. Now, I feel, he sees that I not only inherited his skill but keep it alive with me in my (he)art.

After all the life without my Dad, I see my Dad as a Person from whom I would have learned more in my life than anybody else, a Soul that still inspires me day-to-day in life.

Here are a couple of his Drawings that I tried to preserve. The "Portrait of Lord Rama and Sita" that he did when he was in his Teachers Training College in Bangalore, India and the "Portrait of Abraham Lincoln" that won first place in a all India state-level drawing competition held in Nellore when he was doing his B.A. degree in Venkatagiri Raja's College known as VR College, Nellore, AP, India. Both were done with Pen and Indian Ink on Paper.


Portrait of Lord Rama and Sita

Portrait of Abraham Lincoln

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