ANTHRO Compass 🧭

Daal Roti ke Bhav Pata Lagna For the last two or three days, I had been avoiding calls with my parents. Not because something was wrong, but because I knew that the moment I heard their voices, I would break. Today I picked up. And exactly as I feared, I cried. The Name I Carry: I was born the younger son of Subhash Balaprasad Ajmera. To someone else, that may sound like just a name. To me, it carries the weight of everything I come from. I arrived at a time when his life was climbing. A doctor who became a businessman. Then one factory. Then a second. Then a third. I say this not to boast, but to confess something: I was lucky. If not a golden spoon, then certainly a silver one. I never had to ask for anything twice. Things simply arrived. Let me explain his stature in one line: until I was 28, I had never earned a single rupee. Never paid rent. He funded my education, my needs and even my pleasures. Yes, I had my share of struggles. But I struggled from a place of safety, and that safety had a name. The Bill I Never Saw Today I am 30. And for the first time in my life, I have rented a flat. For the first time, I have hired maids. For the first time, I am buying ration, managing transport, running a business and watching it make a loss. And honestly? My spending habits are terrible. I have ordered Starbucks five days in a row. (Yes, I am laughing too. A little nervously.) There is one thing my father taught me without ever sitting me down to teach it: you cannot give excuses to your family. It is your duty to give them a good life. If 10 hours of work a day is not enough, you work 18. Growing up, I only saw the glamour. People called him a one man army. They called him the Steel King of Jalna. I saw Chief Ministers, MLAs and MPs share a warm bond with him. I saw him help countless poor people, as much as he possibly could. You asked, and he gave. What I never saw was the price. He paid for every single thing he gave, in blood and sweat. Today he lives with BP and sugar. And yet, not once did he have an excuse for anything we wanted. Will I Be Even 1% of Him? The irony is not lost on me. Health wise, I am already walking his path: overworking, gaining weight, ignoring my body. Humans can be foolish like that. We watch our elders pay the price and still refuse to learn. But the questions that keep me awake are different. Will I ever be even 1% of what he was? Will my children have to think twice before asking me for something special? When will I give my wife her first gift of gold? When will I take my parents, my brother and bhabhi, and my in-laws on a foreign trip? They have given me so many. When will I give one back? The Maths of a Rented Flat As I write this, I am sitting in my newly rented flat, adding up the monthly expenses. And it hits me like nothing ever has. He must have done these calculations too. He must have sat with these same numbers, these same fears, these same pressures. And we never knew. Not once did he let it reach us. That is how big he is. Somewhere along the way, he quietly placed our needs, and the family's needs, above his own. He carried the burden of responsibility so gracefully that we mistook it for ease.Today, I finally know the price of daal roti. A Small Promise I don't know what the future holds for me. But I know where I have to begin. Tomorrow, I will not order Starbucks. It doesn't fit the maths. Papa carried us for 30 years. Now it is my turn to carry the responsibility.