Being My Father's Daughter

I have seen the difference in the expressions. When I say IIT-IIM, the eyes and mouth open wide in wonder, and a “WOW” escapes the lips. And when I say IBS, the forehead creases into a frown, and a clueless “Where is it?” is what I invariably hear.

Some weeks ago, I met a girl from another branch of my college. She was also interning at L & T, so we just got talking. Among other things, we discussed our families, and the moment I told her that my Dad is an IIT - IIM, she said, “What?? And you are in IBS? You should be ashamed of yourself!!”

I laughed it away then, but right now, even as I put it down, I can feel tears springing up in my eyes.

Okay, so my father is an IIT - IIM. And any guy with even half a brain can say just how smashingly brilliant that combination is. Even as I speak of it to someone, I can sense the admiration in the listener’s eyes. And simultaneously, I can see this hint of disbelief, probably of mockery even, that someone like me is my father’s daughter.

Unlike my father, I did not like Maths and Physics in school. I was, still am, petrified of those subjects. It was probably this fear that prevented me from scoring well in them. But I loved the languages that we were taught, and was very keen on pursuing literature post school. Somehow, commerce seemed to be a more “lucrative” option then, and so I took it up. The outcome was disastrous – I could NOT take those dry, tasteless, juiceless subjects. Over the years, I have seen that commerce students and engineers possess a certain aptitude for logic and analysis – I lacked that totally. To make matters worse, because I had a good score in my ICSE, I got through to Podar, supposedly the “best college for commerce”. And I was disgusted with the professors and the dilapidated infrastructure there. I remember sitting up at nights, crying away, because I hated what I had to study. I wanted to drop a year and take up Arts just so that I could go to a better college and study language and literature. But I stayed put.

Finally, when I was in Class 12, I went in for an aptitude test. And it showed, not surprisingly, that I had tremendous inclination for the arts – media, literature and language. I put in all I could and finished off with my final exams, and succeeded in scoring an 81%. Okay, so that isn’t an amazing score, but it was a massive uphill task for me, what with subjects I can still puke on.

Mass Media was the most enjoyable part of my education ever. I loved every minute of what we were taught. We had subjects like Creative Writing, Cinema, Photography and everything else that I could positively gorge on. And so it’s no surprise that I scored well throughout.

But then, graduation came to an end and MBA seemed to be the most ‘suitable’ course. Honestly, I was never very sure of it – but because I did not know what else I could do here in India, I started with the coaching classes.

I don’t know if this makes me sound like a loser, but I felt like I was back to being seventeen again, where I just did not enjoy what I was studying. Apart from having Maths to deal with, I also had to study English - something that I had loved throughout - in a very different, very uninteresting manner. But I kept at it. Ultimately, after long months of struggle and frustration, I got accepted at IBS Mumbai.

I know that IBS - M is not even in the same orbit as IIM – B. Sometimes, when I compare myself with my father, I feel ashamed. And embarrassed. I could never have the same perseverance, the same go-getter attitude that is so characteristic of him. He is a workaholic; I work just as much as necessary. He has happily sacrificed a lot to be where he is today and to give me such a comfortable life; I find it extremely difficult to give up things I love. He is exceptionally organised; I am just the opposite. He is a perfectionist; I am laidback. He is an accomplished artist; I draw like a four-year old.

But sometimes when I ponder over how I have always been so different from my father, I think of all the good things I have inherited from him. To begin with, it is from him that I have learnt to have a drive, a passion for executing all my responsibilities sincerely, regardless of whether I like them or not. (At the cost of sounding immodest, I’ll say that I wouldn’t have been a good student throughout, if I had just given up). My love for languages has been his other gift to me. My love for books is a third. My love for animals, a fourth. A liberated attitude, the need to be extremely clear and precise in expression, and emotions towards inanimate objects like old writing pads and letters are some more. Most of all, it is his simplicity, his sense of humility that I find in myself. And there is so much more than I can enlist.

For all that I am, weaknesses, radically different interests et al., my father has accepted me and cherished me. When he is strict, I know it is because he wants only the best for me. So no matter what happens, to me, my father will always remain a Legend. I can say effortlessly, that I am the luckiest daughter in the world, to have been born as my father’s only child. I don’t think anything I ever say can explain how much he amazes me, and how much I respect him and admire him. To me, he will forever be the benchmark – I will always measure any man who is important enough to me, against my father.

And you know what? Honestly, the mockery, shame and embarrassment that I have had to deal with because I am not an IIT-IIM, or even remotely close, is an incredibly small price to pay for being the daughter of the wonderful man, the phenomenon that is MY father. I Love you, Papa, and I am SO proud to be YOUR daughter.