A meme in my newsfeed about those prickly old-school bike pedals sparked a precious memory. While most of the girls learned cycling on their pricey & dainty Ladybirds back in the day, Dinesh Bhagwat bought us sisters a boys' Avon model with those prickly pedals. It was a dauntingly tall bicycle, so much so that the ground was out of our toes' reach by straddling its high top tube, let alone the seat. So we had to learn to time it all by straddling over to one pedal, perching on the seat and finding purchase on the other pedal to set off, all in one breath to pin that delicate centre of gravity. Baba said it will be difficult to get a handle (more of a pedal) on it but it shall build good motor skills. Besides, he favoured the heavy, sturdy make of the Avon; in keeping with his preferred Bajaj Scooter over the new age Scooty.
It sure was a slog on that bicycle but our effort didn't hold a candle to this man's. Firstly, we siblings weighed quite a lot ourselves since we didn't learn this skill as young as they do now. With no balancing wheels whatsoever, it was just Baba bracing one of us at a time with that firm yet gentle one-handed grip on the fender of the bike to provide enough leeway for navigating around hurdles. He would run alongside with that delicate hold on our balance for hours, sweating it for miles for days on end in the sweltering summer holiday heat. Letting go on occasion and cheering us on through all the pitfalls, until we both found our own feet on that Amazonian bicycle and went flying.
On the other hand, Baba would effortlessly teach us the most boring parts of our curriculum with his own brand of dark, colourful humour. We'd chuckle through those exams reflecting all the way on his wisecracks. He also taught us to face failures head on and to cherish them as learning lessons in retrospect with a humbling dose of self-deprecating humour. In the times when most children would dread their parents' reaction to their failures, I'd seek Baba for solace like a homing pigeon. He held practical knowledge & good human beings in much higher regard than grades. Not to mention the legendary honesty he has always employed in practising medicine, right down to quoting the source of original ideas in personal life.
He'd discipline us with just a quelling look or at the most, he'd simply utter our name in an eerily low pitch to bring us to heel. No further words, no lecture, no raised voice or hand whatsoever - Aai donned that mantle to perfection (we are equally grateful for that too). But Baba had his own unconventional, non-confrontational ways of dealing with even the most rebellious children, in the most respectful manner to boot. Most flooring of all was his immediate acknowledgement and profuse apology to any child if he were in the wrong, which was quite uncharacteristic of a parent of those times.
With the notorious "Bhagya" (as fondly called by his batchmates) for a Dad along with that treasured honesty, our teenage selves could freely reach out to him for all the badass stuff right at home - first alcoholic drink, lexicon of cuss words, friendly chats about crushes laced with his conservative streak and so on.
Needless to say, he was ahead of his times as a Father, with an old school soul in all the right places. Here's to one of the coolest & friendliest Dads ever, who raised us with that firm, grounding yet gentle hand throughout.
And here's to all Dads, old & new. It might be a different world today with a different set of challenges but one day, you will make a whole new ultracool niche of old-school to be reminisced by your child/ren. ❤️
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