Meeting Dad – Part I

“Ok… so this is how it feels like to meet Dad…”

Samir had not particularly waited for this day his whole life. In fact, even the previous night, he had had his doubts and was not sure if he should be going to pick his dad up. But then 20 years was a long time and he knew it. So there he was, outside the prison, waiting for his dad to be released. It was still quite cold, under the early morning sun and he took out a cigarette and lit it. And as he inhaled the smoke deeply, he thought about what he was doing there.

Samir was a 2 year old kid when his dad was arrested-at least that was what his mother had told him. For 20 years then, his father was locked up behind bars. And that was pretty much all he knew about his dad. Whenever Samir asked his mother about his father, she would just refuse to talk about him. And if he persisted, she would just beat or shout at him. That was when he was a kid. Standing there beside his car, he realized that his mother’s beatings had actually worked as he could not remember enquiring about his father again-ever. There was no communication, no letters, no phone calls, no birthday cards or visits. His mother had them relocated so she didn’t have to face the ignominy surrounding her husband’s arrest. It was almost like his existence was simply forgotten in the house. But Samir remembered the date-today’s date- that his mother had impulsively and accidentally revealed in a fit of rage and anger when he, as a 13 year old boy, had asked her when it was he would see his dad. He had checked with the police station a few weeks back which confirmed his 9 year old memory.

The prison building was a non-descript concrete structure with a long and high compound wall that ran for a few hundreds of meters. His car was parked just outside the main entrance-the only entrance- which was guarded by 3 sleepy policemen. And when the policemen saw him standing there for a few minutes, they began to give him the eye. Samir ignored their stares and continued to smoke. He soon realized that he had a very basic problem at hand. His father did not expect anyone to pick him up, let alone his 22 year old son whom he hadn’t seen or heard from in about 2 decades. Samir was actually concerned how his father would react to seeing him. He could simply decide not to talk to Samir and there would be nothing that he could do about it. It was a risk he was well aware of, and one which he was ready to take. He looked at the photo of his father that he was able to get from the prison office. It was just a recently taken mugshot. And that was all he had. He looked at his watch and silently muttered, “It’s already past 7:30. Where is he?”

And as if in response to that, Samir heard a noise from the inside of the building- the opening of a metal door. The bolt creaked open loudly and the door slid sideways. Samir fidgeted and stubbed his cigarette out. One person, came out through that door and the door immediately slammed shut. He strained his eyes to see who it was who came out and his eyes rested on the tall, broad figure that stood outside the prison gate, looking straight into the sun. Could it be? Samir quickly took a look at the photo he had and looked in the direction of the person. He was now slowly making his way towards Samir. And as he grew nearer and the face became clearer, Samir realized he no longer needed the photo and threw it into the drain. He was staring at his father for the first time in more than 20 years. And as he came nearer, Samir realized his father didn’t seem to pay much attention to his presence and looked more like he had some plans of his own.

“Hi…” Samir said.

His father stopped right in front of him and looked at him quizzically. Samir didn’t respond to his looks and just stood there. He wanted to see if his father could make the recognition and was secretly wishing he would do so.

His father looked at him, and simply said, “Who are you?”

The faint smile that was taking shape on Samir’s face instantly vanished. That was one question Samir had desperately hoped to avoid answering. He just couldn’t get himself to say who he was. So he just stared back blankly, avoiding his father’s gaze, waiting for him to say something else.

“What do you want?” his father questioned him further.

“I am here to pick you up.” Samir replied.

“What? Pick me up? Who ARE you?”

Samir began to sense the beginning of an irritation in his father’s tone and immediately began to wonder if he had made the right decision in coming there. He still did not know what to say.

“I asked you who you…..”

“I am Samir,” he impulsively blurted it out and then looked away.

His father went silent, his mouth hanging open in mid sentence. Disbelief enveloped his face, followed by a few seconds of confusion, eventually yielding to the reality of the situation. He shook his head and looked around. There was no one else apart from the 3 policemen. Samir feared his father was losing his composure. But before he could say anything, his father opened his mouth to speak.

“Is that your car?” he asked, pointing at the Honda behind Samir.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s get in the car.”

Samir immediately agreed to the suggestion and went around and unlocked the doors. His father helped himself into the passenger seat while Samir turned the ignition on and started the car. He pulled out of the small parking space and headed for the highway. And so, after 20 years, Samir was sitting beside his father, driving on the highway, to nowhere in particular. This was going to be the longest drive of his life.

TO BE CONTINUED…. (SERIOUSLY).