Father's Day Special: The Little Big Man by Tagore and Father Returning Home by Dilip Chitre
This week in Daak:
1. The Little Big Man by Rabindranath Tagore
2. Father Returning Home by Dilip Chitre
3. Faiz and the Power of Voice
1. The Little Big Man by Rabindranath Tagore
I am small because I am a little child. I shall be big when I am as old as my father is. My teacher will come and say, “It is late, bring your slate and your books.” I shall tell him, “Do you not know I am as big as father? And I must not have lessons any more.” My master will wonder and say, “He can leave his books if he likes, for he is grown up.” I shall dress myself and walk to the fair where the crowd is thick. My uncle will come rushing up to me and say, “You will get lost, my boy; let me carry you.” I shall answer, “Can’t you see, uncle, I am as big as father? I must go to the fair alone.” Uncle will say, “Yes, he can go wherever he likes, for he is grown up.” Mother will come from her bath when I am giving money to my nurse, for I shall know how to open the box with my key. Mother will say, “What are you about, naughty child?” I shall tell her, “Mother, don’t you know, I am as big as father, and I must give silver to my nurse.” Mother will say to herself, “He can give money to whom he likes, for he is grown up.” In the holiday time in October father will come home and, thinking that I am still a baby, will bring for me from the town little shoes and small silken frocks. I shall say, “Father, give them to my dada, for I am as big as you are.” Father will think and say, “He can buy his own clothes if he likes, for he is grown up.”
This lovely little poem by Tagore brings up a host of childhood memories along with our earliest conception of adult agency and independence — which often took the form of our fathers. Tagore’s adoration for his father is evident in his aspiration to be just like him. Let this sweet and loving tribute to his father remind you to celebrate your own father or father figures who have shaped your life.
2. Father Returning Home by Dilip Chitre
My father travels on the late evening train Standing among silent commuters in the yellow light Suburbs slide past his unseeing eyes His shirt and pants are soggy and his black raincoat Stained with mud and his bag stuffed with books Is falling apart. His eyes dimmed by age fade homeward through the humid monsoon night. Now I can see him getting off the train Like a word dropped from a long sentence. He hurries across the length of the grey platform, Crosses the railway line, enters the lane, His chappals are sticky with mud, but he hurries onward. Home again, I see him drinking weak tea, Eating a stale chapati, reading a book. He goes into the toilet to contemplate Man's estrangement from a man-made world. Coming out he trembles at the sink, The cold water running over his brown hands, A few droplets cling to the greying hairs on his wrists. His sullen children have often refused to share Jokes and secrets with him. He will now go to sleep Listening to the static on the radio, dreaming Of his ancestors and grandchildren, thinking Of nomads entering a subcontinent through a narrow pass.
Maternal care and comfort is often celebrated in art and literature. However, what is rarely explored is the emotional distance that exists between fathers and their families — perhaps due to the strong patriarchal dictates of stoicism that have governed men’s behaviours in the subcontinent for ages. If you feel isolated from your father, let this poem be a reminder that perhaps he feels the weariness and burden of it too.
2. Faiz and the Power of Voice
Bol ke lab azad hain tere
Speak for your tongue is freeFaiz’ words on the power of voice have always given us hope when we feel afraid or weak. If you want to carry this talisman with you, get our hand-painted Faiz-Bol pins made in collaboration with Say It With A Pin.