At the boarding gate, in the chairs near me was a family of four. Indian-American. Tamil-American. Appa, amma, anna, thangai. The boy was perhaps ten and the girl looked two years younger.
The mother had had enough of sitting around. "I am going to look at the shops" she said and dragged the daughter also along.
The son asked the father something, and he mumbled a response. The kid laughed. I mean laughed.
When he got a control of his emotions, the son asked the father in the most dearest of tones, "how come you are so funny all the time, appa?"
"I went to a joke school. I have a PhD."
The son laughed again.
When we are kids, our parents are like amazing superstars. We are so easily impressed with what they can do and say. We respect them. Adore them. Brag about them.
And then we grow up.
We realize that they were not superstars, and that it was mostly the decades of head-start they had over us. But, we are mighty glad they did what they did. We thank them for that. Most of us turn around and repeat the same process with our children. Sometimes we even recall the tricks the our parents used to impress us and experience the joy of our children being equally impressed.
Listening to the father talk with his son, I found nothing hilarious. But the son did. And that is all that matters.
"But, appa, I have a question. How come amma is not funny like you?"
I wondered how the father would handle that question. I am convinced that there is within us men a biological urge to make jokes and impress. We are programmed that way. Mothers are not always full of jokes. Story tellers mothers might be, but fathers are the ones being comedians and comics and making fart-jokes that kids giggle at.
The sounds from the public address system drowned out the father's mumble. In any case, the son will figure things out on his own, and will go over similar routines with his kids.
It is a wonderful life!
4 comments:
You really suffered from blog withdrawal symptoms over the last two weeks. End result has been heightened senses and wonderful perception. Two blog posts, from of all places, the departure place in Frankfurt airport - one of the most depressing places in the world. Surely if that drab place can excite such posts, think of what the Willamette and the goslings are going to do :):)
Brilliant post, was nodding all the way through the post.
Or ... what if I have nothing else to blog about after these posts?
BTW, this post was not from the departure gate. It was when I was in the plane, which was flying at cruising altitude. Yes, internet hotspots six miles above the ground. Or, as our friend MA Krishna put it, the social media version of the mile high club ;)
Glad you liked it, Prats
Post a Comment