The pressure in my head was mounting and if it were a cooker, it would start whistling anytime soon, attributable to both personal and professional issues added by other insignificant birds pecking on my brain. So, I had the strangest moment one day last week. I ran home and demanded to have a discussion with my dad. For a split second, his expression was somewhat quizzical which if translated into words could be something like “O.M.G. What in the heavens name!”.
You see there are two classes of proud people – ones whose pride is gained through achievements and the others, like me, are born obnoxiously proud with no reason whatsoever. In my entire life so far, I have never demanded a discussion with my dad. I never felt the need to. I made my own decisions, learnt my own lessons and sought my own directions, and informed my dad about them.


But that day, a cerebral volcanic eruption would have been inevitable had I decided to contain the burning lava. Within the next half hour, I explained my situation caused by my sense of ownership over everything I do with such boring seriousness. For the first time, my dad perhaps understood some things more than besides just my workplace.

I have known many people but never quite a listener like him. He squinted his one eye and listened to each word I uttered. Then in response he narrated the following story to me:

“There were once two boys in Tibet – one was born into a rich family and the other into a poor family.

His doting parents gave the rich boy the best of things in life. With a happy and smooth childhood having never had to face any scarcity of sorts, he marched effortlessly into adulthood.

The poor kid however toiled through his childhood days to make ends meet on his own. His childhood days were long and perilous.

Then a day came when the parents of both the boys left this world and the tides turned. The son of the rich parents suddenly found himself alone and lost and unable to find his way in life, for that was not a skill he learned. Ultimately he turned to rags.

The lessons of the son of the poor parents however were enriched through his hardships during his childhood that his life skills kept getting better and sharper until as an adult, it turned to brilliance and he became a very rich person. “

With that my dad said, ”Learn your lessons for they will enrich your journey forward. There is never a victory without a fight.”

I thought inwardly “Ah, you don’t even need to tell me that story. It’s common knowledge” but knowing how much better and more determined I felt post that narration, I realized sometimes knowing is simply not enough…we do need reminders from time to time.
2 Responses
  1. A nice read. Yes, we all need reminders. Keep writing and keep sharing your thoughts.


  2. Kinga Choden Says:

    Dear Amrith,

    Thanks! Will do for sure :)


Post a Comment