My first hug to my Father

When I clicked #HugYourDad at Blogadda, the below question appeared in bold on the activity page.

To be honest, I am not a person who hugs more often. Nonetheless, that does not mean I shrug off when people hug me. I do enjoy the warmth and happiness in their gesture. However, it is not my innate attribute to express an emotion by hugging. In fact I lack the ability to express my emotions to my loved ones, too often. I am not even aware of any specific reason to that. Therefore, when I read this question I kept wondering. Eventually I caught a brainwave response. The first and only time until today I have hugged my father was during my Bidaai*. I did not want to mention it as the "last time" because it was my first hug to my father.

If I recapitulate my life quickly, there were several memorable occasions all through my life. In those moments any other person more comfortable with hugs would have expressed it so. I did not. There were also situations where my father, otherwise strong, was on the verge of a break down. I stood there as his support. Anyone else would have given a tight hug to express it. I did not. When I left home for hostel or left my hometown for job, I was sad. I did cry. Did I give a simple hug? No, I did not.

Then, what made me hug him on my Bidaai* day? When I think about it, I feel it was unusual to my normal conduct. Moreover, it was not a response hug to my father's gesture. Neither he nor anyone forced me to do so. It was I who searched for him desperately in the crowd. So why did I? Now, away from him when I ponder, I still do not know. All I can is, relate to the feeling of that moment which pushed me out of my closet.

From the day my wedding preparations began, the fact that I will be leaving, had settled in my mind. I was not overtly emotional about it. I had already left home since my graduation. Hence, until that very minute when I changed to my Bidaai* saree, my wedding was a festive event for me. Once, the Bidaai* rituals started I felt a big lump in my throat. It was as if a knot stuck in there. My mother was already drenched in her own tears. All my relatives were crying. My younger brother was getting the car prepared. My emotions were balanced within me. Then there was a moment when the one person I was frantically looking for, was missing. As I was moving out with every step, performing the rituals mechanically, I was searching for my father. I was never leaving without having a glance of him. I knew that for sure. Finally, when I reached the exit gate I found him. He was standing in a corner behind someone. I rushed towards him and hugged him tight. So tight, as if I was requesting him not to let me go. It was a brutal realization that I was moving out to a new home where he will be absent. How much ever at peace I was with this thought previously, it all melted in that very moment. I just did not want to leave him. So much so, I remember somebody literally had to pull me.Those seconds in his arms will always be memorable. I did not exchange a word with him yet he understood my emotion through that hug. I had this same feeling of not leaving when I left for hostel or my job. However, I did not hug him then. May be because I knew I would return to him in holidays. But in the Bidaai* moment, it dawned on me that from this day onwards my home visits will be divided.

That hug was the best gift of my wedding. So if you are asking me - "It is time you hugged your dad, don’t you think?" I would say, "Yes"

Bidaai* - A custom in Indian wedding when the bride bids farewell to her family.

This father’s day, I am expressing my love towards my dad by participating in the #HugYourDad activity at BlogAdda in association with Vicks. 

Image Credits - Blogadda
Article © Copyright Salvwi Prasad