On My Father's Birthday

(I wrote these words on one of those January 27ths, for my father’s birthday.)

Today is the birthday of a simple man. He is my father.

Because he never wanted to win, he never lost either. I have never heard anyone else speak with such genuine joy and simplicity about everyone around them succeeding. To this day, I have never seen my father regret anything. “If you can’t help someone, never harm them.” I’ve heard this from my father since childhood. I have always followed this instruction of his, and will follow it all my life. To this day I have never harmed anyone, and I will not until death. I believe all my achievements are the fruit of my parents’ good deeds. He never tried to balance life’s accounts, yet all accounts have settled perfectly. Because he never wanted to reach great heights, my father has never made any enemies. Without ever envying anyone, he has remained enviable. I have seen my father laugh with childlike joy over very little things. My father has never lost so far. How could he lose, when he never wanted to win? I learned the best answer to what winning means by watching my father. Living each day without regret—that is winning.

I try to learn from watching my father how gracefully one can do the difficult task of taking life simply. Perhaps because my father cannot understand complicated, twisted matters, life has always presented itself simply to him. My father’s philosophy of life is: live in the most ordinary way, and let thoughts blossom. In life’s whirl, with little wealth but much spirit, dancing with joy in the mind’s circle. He has always lived very simply. I have never heard my father address any stranger as ‘you’ informally; he always speaks to people with tremendous respect. I don’t remember the last time I saw my father angry; so even if I say something with a slightly heavy heart, guilt starts working within me. My father says, never buy things that suddenly start buying you. My father believes that mother is the home minister, and whatever achievements he has at home and outside, mother has done it all. I have seen my father always let mother win, giving her all the credit. My linear way of thinking is inherited from my father. What he thinks, believes, my father has said throughout his life. I cannot tolerate hypocrisy—this too I got from my father. He spends a bit too much on food. He is a food lover himself and loves to feed others with care. On weekends the grocery shopping is more, he sits beside mother cutting fish, meat, and vegetables, with so much joking and teasing going on, he still teases mother whenever he gets a chance. (Doesn’t mother become even happier with this?) I used to see my father not taking money from poor clients, instead paying court expenses from his own pocket. As a child, I somehow felt angry seeing this. My father would say, see, with their blessings you two brothers will become very successful. When someone won a case and happily offered extra fees, he wouldn’t take it, still doesn’t. He never returned empty-handed from court, we would wait for when father would return, so we could sit together and have snacks in the evening. Even if it was something small, in my father’s hands it became priceless. Sometimes heavy rain would fall, my father couldn’t find a proper rickshaw from the court building, maybe didn’t have time to bring any proper snacks, but if nothing else, he would buy at least a dozen small bananas and bring them home. How contentedly I ate that food too. So many years have passed, now there is more variety in food, the quantity has increased abundantly, but where do I get that happiness anymore? I really miss those days of living more with less money. We four used to have breakfast and dinner together; if I’m home, we still do. This familial bond of ours was built by my father’s hands. My father says, if you ever lend money to someone, don’t repeatedly ask for it back, it ruins relationships. My habit of reading books comes from watching my father. My father still reads plenty of books. He could write in English with extraordinary style, knew many English words, used to teach us as children. When I was small, I would go to fairs riding on my father’s shoulders, he would buy flutes, birds, sweets, and various clay toys. Mother would say, why do you buy these, they’ll just break them! My father would say, I bought them to be broken. How many people my parents have helped, how many students they have taught for free, they tried to increase the wealth of the mind rather than worldly possessions; but I have never seen them show even a trace of pride. So many people’s good wishes are with my father; even now I haven’t seen my father in any real trouble. My father always does his own work. He tells us, do your own work. Not doing your own work means putting the burden of managing yourself in someone else’s hands; that’s very troublesome, father. From throwing out household garbage, washing clothes, mopping floors, washing dishes after eating, we two brothers have learned to do many household chores. My pride about my father is this: even people who seem born just to criticize have never said anything bad about my father. Even thinking about this brings great joy.

Father, you have given us a very happy, cheerful, prosperous family. There is no wealth greater than a carefree heart. Father, you are very successful and fulfilled.

O God! On this day I pray from my heart, give my father some of my years.