Siddharth Kumar

The last few days have been very difficult. More difficult than others. We, as human beings, have immense strength to persevere against external challenges. Not quite so when it involves people we once loved, looked towards, and admired. The objective sense of being on the side of justice causes a churning of the heart at night. Justice requires doing things that one would ideally let slide because it doesn’t matter anymore. Life is bigger. People move ahead. But does that mean anyone can trample over someone’s life and ruin it forever without repercussion? Every act has a consequence, and every wrong deserves punishment.

I have had a very complicated relationship with my father. As a child, I was scared of him. In my early teens, I began to see him more objectively. Despite his flaws, I saw him as a man of conviction and courage; a man who could do anything. Almost a fanatic. He had a fierce, often daunting energy about him.

In my twenties, that admiration slowly turned into affection. I started to see him as a vulnerable human being, burdened with repressed emotions and unfulfilled desires. A man with dreams, with a vision of how he wanted his life to be. But the harsh realities of household responsibilities never allowed him to become the aspirational vagabond he longed to be.

It took me 28 years to realize that my judgment of him had been clouded by a child’s innate desire to look past a father’s flaws. In truth, I was merely justifying and rationalizing his abhorrent and disgusting behavior.