It was night of December. I was alone in study-foyer in college with one novel in my hand. Time was 1:00am…! Pages seemed to be blurring due to tears in my eyes. Today it was time to change my path; it was time to change my life. I was crying for changing track of my life…!
I took my mobile and dialed my father’s number @ 1:00 am in cold night. In just few ring I heard my father’s voice. His voice was unusual. He spoke…
“Bolo beta…Missing your father in late night or bad nightmare?…huh..?”
I didn’t spoke for a while. Tears were bursting from my eyes. I had lot of things to tell him, but I could not start it for a while. My father was waiting for my reply. Finally I started….
“Papa. I don’t want to be an engineer. My interest is something different. I am not for engineering…. papa…” And then I literally cried loudly. For a while he didn’t speak anything. I realized that his voice was changed due to lump in his throat or may be tears in his eyes. But he stared after a while….
“Jitu…beta…Let me tell you one story.”
“Long time ago…before 30 years…one Boy was standing in his farm…alone…helpless…and crying like you. He was watering his crop in mid-night. But his tears were mixing in water…He was crying loudly. He had lot of things to talk with his poor father”.
In that morning when he returned to home, he spoke to his Father :
“Papa…I don’t like this farming. I want to go in big city and I want to become a business man. I don’t want to spend my whole life as a poor farmer. My heart is following something else. What if your son will pass whole his life doing nothing of his interest? Please give me some money. I want to start my own business ” And boy cried a lot to his poor father. His father replied:
“No. Never even think again about leaving farming and village. You have to be a farmer and that’s all. Not even a single person from our cast has thought of following his interest or being businessman. Who told you to follow your interest? You don’t have that personality of ‘big man’ of city. You are uneducated.”
‘Story over.’ My father spoke. I was still listening to him without a single word. Then again he continued:
“Jitu beta…That young boy is now old and he is still a bloody farmer. Still he cries sometimes because of not doing the things he liked to do.”
“That boy was your father. Still crying in same farm…. between same crop, with same dreams…. same tears…” For a while I was really shocked. That young boy was my father and he cried for years…like me for his dreams…for his interest…He again started:
“But I am lot like my father. You want to be a writer???? Hmm? Go ahead…I read your diary last time. Work hard for it and the time when your book will break all record, you will get rich. At that time please give some money to your Papa so that I can start my business…..I want to fulfill my dreams too….Jitu”