My dear Siddhanth,
Happy birthday!!
As a growing child, you always loved going into green
meadows to watch the herd of grazing cows. The harmonized sound of cow bells
complemented by occasional bawls of cattle - was a rare chorus that you
enjoyed. Going behind the calves and touching their tender tummies to express
your love was something that you never missed on misty mornings. For some
strange reasons, you believed that god lived in their wagging tails and you
would often touch them respectfully to pay obeisance. Induced by your innocence, when some calves
affectionately tickled you by licking your legs - you innocently laughed. You
were fearless in playing with them and sometimes you accompanied them till the
calves joined their mothers.
That was you -
when you were 3 years old. Today you turn 17.
I realize that
nothing much has changed between now and then, except the ground that you pick
and play.
The meadow is
replaced with a bright blue screen that radiates from your gadget’s gorilla
glass. The characters of your world look weird; they are very cruel and are
always contriving a counter attack. There are no mothers and fathers in the
virtual world that you are a big proponent of. Indeed, the touches have become
far more sophisticated but there is no sensation and no emotion in those
touches; they are mere commands. And those noise silencing earphones that you
wear... watch out, one day they would wear off your inner voice, leave alone
your mother’s silent cry. And those endless LoLs... give me a break, I haven’t
heard your muted laugh, for months. Get out of that false world.
You may wonder why your dad is sarcastic on your birthday?
You doubt whether he is fixing your life while you feel that
nothing is broken.
When my father
shouted at me when I was growing, I had similar doubts. Now I realize that your
grandfather was always right.
Just think that
this letter that has a mere musing of an old-fashioned dad has a hidden hope
that you would find me right one day, exactly the way all the sons found their
dads, right.
My son... meadows
are rapidly disappearing from the city and cows are becoming political
commodities. In a time where fearlessness is only exhibited through mindless
trolls and where innocence is framed and limited to unnatural selfies, here is
your dad’s plea; please return to a life that is less adventurous and
less colorful because life is beautiful when it is simple and real.
Here is a wish on your birthday that you will soon choose a
game that only the nicest sons pick, to become the best men in the world.
Now go, rediscover the paths to simplicity - without using Google
Maps.
Your loving dad
