As if on cue, the scooter horn honked just at the turn around the house. Devesh’s father rode back from office at 6 pm sharp each day. All those at home, slipped into an order whenever it was time for him to head back home. A glass of water would be served to him as soon as he entered the house. After freshening up, he would sit and do riyaaz over the harmonium. Dinner would be served at sharp 8 pm. After a stroll in the front garden, he’d go to bed and then rise early in the morning to go for his long walk without fail, be it a breezy summer or a biting winter. His father wanted discipline in the house but it didn’t necessarily mean he was strict; but the son never managed to pour his heart out to his father.
His father was, in fact, rather caring, affectionate and a man of several talents. But it was his discipline that took the limelight over it all. In fact, the only conversation they had during the day was when they read the newspapers together everyday. Devesh and his father discussed current affairs, topics of political interest and a healthy debate ensued often. But that was it.
Devesh, an intelligent student and a keen debater, was a complete extrovert outside the boundaries of his home. Always participating in and winning quizzes, he had many peers in college and some even dropped by at his house regularly.
“Devesh, what are your plans after graduation?” asked one of his friends while they sipped tea in his room one evening.
“I want to do my master’s in political science,” he said with confidence.
Indeed, college was soon getting over and Devesh had set his eyes on one of the top universities for his master’s degree. However, just like any other youngster, at times confusion and doubt hovered over him. He really wanted to talk to his father about this but something or the other kept stopping him from doing so.
Comments