Nope, I didn’t write this on Father’s Day. I waited. Like the real father should. Not for the cards, the badly drawn pictures, or the forwarded WhatsApp poems with piano music in the background. No, I waited for the noise to die down. For the digital parade to pass. And then I heard it — one quiet line from a family message: “Thank you, Dad, for being present.”

Present. What a simple word. No, not the one that comes wrapped in shiny paper. I mean the other one — the roll-call word. “Present!” That one. The one that means you showed up.

Not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually, and — yes — inconveniently.

Being present doesn’t mean watching a school play on Zoom because you were “stuck in a meeting.” It’s not about FaceTiming from a golf course to say “You’ll do great, my gudiya!” Being present means being there — at the table, at the tantrum, at the scraped knee, and even at the dreaded algebra homework session where you wish you had concentrated harder in school.

And before some of you bring out the “I’m the provider” card — let me stop you right there. Yes, fathers work hard. Yes, bills must be paid. But if your child knows the sound of your car engine better than your voice, you may want to check your definition of “provider.”

And you divorcees- shame on you!

You can’t be a part-time father. Not the two-days-a-week custody kind. Not the “I’ll take you to Goa once a year” kind. Not even the “I’m working hard to make you proud one day” kind. Because by the time “one day” comes, your child will have grown up — and left a forwarding address.

And fathers, let’s not play the victim. I’ve heard some say, “But the kids don’t want to spend time with me!” Well, why would they, when every time they tried, you were either glued to your phone, watching a cricket match, or lecturing them about how you grew up?

Being present means putting your ego on silent mode and your empathy on loudspeaker.

It’s about being the fool during their puppet show, the tree during their hide and seek, the referee during sibling wars, and the shoulder during heartbreak. It’s about listening without fixing, guiding without controlling, and loving without conditions.

And here’s the miracle — when you do that, your child learns not just to exist, but to engage. And one day, when they raise their own hand in their own children’s attendance sheet, they’ll answer, “Present.”  Because presence is contagious.

So, to every father out there — try this. The next time your child walks into the room, don’t scroll. Don’t sigh. Don’t say, “Not now.” Instead, look up, smile, and say with your whole being — “Present!”

You’ll be amazed at the legacy that starts right there…!

[email protected]

————————————————–

Would love to hear from you in the COMMENTS section below…and IF YOU WANT TO RECEIVE BOB’S BANTER EVERYDAY, PLEASE SEND YOUR NAME AND WHATSAPP PHONE NO TO [email protected]
————————————————–