It was way back in 1966. It was the same year my youngest brother was born. I was at St. Thresa’s school, Vasco, Goa. It was one of the tough days our family was going through. My daddy was more interested in his drinks than in family matters. My mom was distraught, as were my sister and I; my younger brother was too small to understand anything. I didn’t know why my mother was always crying, but later on, when I became old enough, I realised why the tears were shed. My mother was worried since my father always came home late and often abused my mother and even beat me for trivial reasons. I was a confused boy. I was so confused and didn’t know what to do; happiness was a luxury I couldn’t afford.
During those days, there were no school buses so that I would walk to school. My typical day starts at 0630 am, and our school starts at 08:00 am. I used to walk to school at 0700 hrs, just in time for school. Due to all the problems at home, I was an introvert and had few friends. One of my few good friends was Dinesh, who hailed from a happy family, and he always had enough money to buy sandwiches, flavoured drinks and cakes from the school canteen. My daily lunch was bread and jam, idlis, and dosa with jam. However, I was tired of the same menu. I remember those days when I used to crave a sandwich from school, but for a boy like me, it was a luxury. I didn’t have enough courage to ask for money from my daddy; I was terrified at the thought of asking him. Whether he would have given me the money was a different proposition. I was close to my mother and told her that I would like to have a sandwich and flavoured milk from the school canteen, but my mother couldn’t give it to me as my father never gave her any money. As already mentioned, his drinking habits were taking a heavy toll on our family matters. I kept on putting pressure on my mother, but the poor lady could not help but promise me that she would ask my father and get me some money. One day, Dinesh called me to the Canteen and offered me Sandwiches and rose milk. I was very hesitant to accept it, as I had been taught by my mother and even my father not to take anything free from others. But Dinesh insisted, and I accepted his offer, and that was my first sandwich. A few months later, my mother kept her promise and gave me 50 paise, which was enough to buy sandwiches and rose milk for Dinesh and me. That day, I was the happiest boy on earth.
Now I am 49 and happily married to a caring and loving wife, and have two beautiful daughters. I have always ensured that my daughters never lacked anything. I always ensure that they get the best in everything. At times, my wife complains that by meeting all their want and needs, I am pampering and spoiling them. However, I don’t blame her for complaining, since she has never experienced what I have. But I have confidence in my daughters that they will never misuse my love and affection, and they fully understand their father, who tries hard to give them what he never got or yearned for during his childhood. I am a happy man who can afford to eat all the sandwiches I can ever eat, but years have passed, and the vagaries of time have finally caught up with me, and it has taken its toll.
PS. This was published initially in 2007.
