Actions Speak Louder Than Words

 In my opinion, we become who we are from watching our father’s behave and act when life is at its oddest.  I am about to share two such incidents from different junctures in my life that have left a deep impression on me. I will use those incidents to illustrate the main point of my speech, which is: Actions speak louder than words.

From my very first speech here, you may remember that I was raised by my grandparents and spending time with my father was something I yearned for.  You must have already heard that a Father is a daughter’s first love and a son’s hero. My story only conforms to that idiom. Let me describe the two episodes that happened while growing up that showed me how much my father cares for me. It is very mundane but they corroborate my belief and my faith in my father.

As a child, I spent some of my summer holidays with my cousins, in their homes. I felt especially close to the two of them, the daughters of my paternal aunt. I learned to cycle, swim, type, and dance with them at different periods. I was an only child at that time and I really treasured these special moments I shared with my cousins.

The first incident happened when I was about 10. I was spending one of my summer holidays at my aunt’s place in Bangalore. My cousins and I wanted to have Cup’O noodles as a mid afternoon snack one day. There was only one left in their pantry. My cousins decided to share it among themselves without considering me at all. I felt very sad that they did not even ask me if I wanted any. I felt left out. I felt like I was not a part of them at all.  I was not sad about not getting any Noodles. I did not even like noodles all that much and especially not Cup’O noodles. I was deeply disappointed as I realized that I did not belong to them as much as they belonged to each other.

That evening when I spoke to my father over the phone I did not mention anything about that incident. But, I surely must have sounded sad and depressed. My father took the very next flight from Cochin to Bangalore, which is where I was. He was there in my aunt’s house later that night. Him coming over for me, made me extremely happy. He took me outside and asked me what happened. I had tears rolling down my cheeks when I told him that I just felt left out and lonely. I also told him that nothing really had happened. He understood and consoled me. We went back home the next day. Now, when I think of that whole situation, I feel happy. I remember that incident so fondly, not because of anything he said to me but because of him leaving his work and everything, just because I didn’t sound happy. That incident has made me conscious of the fact that my happiness means the world to my father.

The second incident very similar to this previous one happened when I was about 19. I was pursuing my undergraduate degree in Chennai. One of my professors asked me out on a movie date. He even threatened me by saying that if I didn’t go out with him, he would give me bad grades for my practicals/internals. I was brought up in a belief system that taught me to treat Teachers as more important than Gods. The order in which one should offer reverence to is:  Mother, Father, Teacher, and then, only then, God (“Matha, Pitha, Guru, Daeivam” ). Even when I chanted a prayer before every, I pictured every teacher who has ever taught me. I worshiped my teachers. When such a revered teacher of mine, made such a preposterous proposition, I was in a dilemma.

  That evening when I spoke to my father I didn’t sound myself at all. My father rented a Taxi and drove down 750Kms from Cochin to Chennai and met me at my college in the next morning. He met the Head Of my Department. They spoke for a while. Later my father and I went out for lunch. I did not at that time tell him about the real issue that was bothering me. In fact, until I drafted this and shared it with him, I am sure he was oblivious of it.  Seeing him that day gave me the having confidence that my father is there to support me irrespective of what I get myself into.

My grandmother used to say that I have the best father in the whole world; a father who would even attempt to get me the moon to satisfy my slightest whim. Ever after that incident, I have never spoken to my father when I am even slightly disturbed for the fear of having him show up in front of me the very next minute.  The faith that my father is there for me, is my biggest strength. My father has demonstrated to me that I am the most important part of his life by his actions.  Actions do speak louder than words. I would suggest to everyone to let your words teach, but let it be your ACTIONS that do all the speaking.