He must have told you the story a hundred times. Yet, you never get enough of it. The beginning of the story is always the same; “When I was your age…” And then he narrates it all. It’s not that you have heard it for the first time but the narration is always riveting. You wish you were a director; the story is worth a movie. You laugh at how crazy you were about the super-heroes cartoon serials. He is nothing less than a hero. He doesn’t have super-natural powers; but natural powers, which make him greater.
When you look at him carefully you see the chiseled face; which was sculpted by experiences; both good and bad. His mother knows he looks different. All his life he couldn’t notice those canyons made by tear-rivers he let flow when alone, the deep trenches made by ruthless quakes in market, scars made by the hot winds of misfortune and wrinkles made by time. He has treaded the path for almost half a century now. He keeps walking.
As a kid you remembered him only when you wanted a new toy, and when hurt cried only in her arms. Unlike her, he never pulled you close and cried with you. He did not even cry when you left home but stayed composed to comfort her. There was a reason to it. He is the barked-tree. Hardened by the ugly side of life. He wants you to turn into the same. The FIGURE of him is to teach. Now you recall the days when he taught how to ride the bicycle. You fell, because he wanted you to. Someone has rightly said, “Why do we fall…? So that we can learn to pick ourselves up.” I had thanked him only for buying me the bicycle; I owe the thank-you for teaching it.
He lost many of his dear ones, lost to time. He hates to marry “off” his daughter, lost to inexplicable and anomalous laws of society. He never had a shoulder to cry on. On the contrary others sought his shoulder. He compromised… he just pursed his lips hard, but when his strength gave up… sat on the floor and cried by hiding his face in his palms or may be between his knees; no one knows exactly. He is the ocean which contains rivers of sorrow.
You go into a trance while listening to the story. You picture yourself in his place and doubt whether you are capable of handling those hardships. This tree would never show what’s beneath the barks. He stands firm and strong by your side. He is the example of life that you are about to lead. He is Paa.
