A father is a species seldom understood, yet for the fatherless the world shatters. Of all sacrifices, none is more unspoken, none more silently endured, than a father’s.
I recently attended two functions—one celebrating a man’s 75th year and another for an 80-year-old—while traveling in the company of a 79-year-old. Yes, fathers have existed across millennia, yet the generations before carried a distinctly different flavour of fatherhood.
One who celebrated his 75th birthday did so for the very first time in his life. What a contrast—today, not celebrating a child’s birthday is considered a crime beyond forgiveness.
The story of this 75-year-old man, now a grandfather, was typical of his generation—laden with responsibilities from early childhood. Being the eldest son was a celebration only at birth, but as he grew, he had to stand taller and stronger, bearing the weight of aiding his parents and supporting five or six younger siblings. Stoic and steady, he embodied the typical father: a man of few words, carrying upon his shoulders the burden of a vast world of duties.
His upbringing followed a simple yet timeless formula:
• Saṁskāra received from his parents
• Sevā in Saṅgha (RSS)
• Satsaṅga, a taste that only deepened with age
As Yudhiṣṭhira Mahārāja told Yakṣa in the Mahābhārata, “True wisdom is born of serving and learning from the elders (vriddha).”
Another striking part of his life was thirty-five years of discipline and service to the nation through the Saṅgha—active social service for the sake of Bhārata. And yet, he never compromised on giving his children good education and saṁskāras. Perhaps he could not give them his time, but he gave them his entire resource of effort and guidance—a middle-class father carrying the extra burden of Rāṣṭra-sevā, for the father gives not comfort, but the foundation on which a child may stand firm.
The 80-year-old man’s story was no different. In fact, he went further—caring not only for his own elderly parents but also for his in-laws in the absence of their sons-in-law. Again, the same stoicism, yet this time suffused with the quiet bliss of service. His son and daughter-in-law, too, walk the same path of deep Rāṣṭra-sevā, yet without ever losing the anchorage of Satsaṅga.
Such men and women are our hidden tīrthas—living holy places. No pretence, no official celebrations, for their true celebration was the daily ritual of responsibility; birthdays mattered little, for their very life itself was the festival. In living thus, they practiced karma-yoga, and in due course, by the sanctifying association of Vaiṣṇavas, they naturally entered bhakti-yoga.
Let the younger generation sit with them, study their lives—for they are more adventurous and more fulfilling than the finest fiction. As the Mahābhārata reminds us: ‘The life of dharma may appear ordinary, yet it is grander than the most wondrous tale.
For today’s fatherhood has changed, yet in their lives we behold the quiet strength of a civilization still whispering its eternal song.
– Govind Das (ISKCON MEMBER)
