Don’t Lose That Gleam

It felt like meditation. The way dad would clean and polish the car until it gleamed. Each movement was precise and practised. His one daily ritual.

At times I would wonder if he loved the car more than he loved us. He would never allow my brother and me to play with the car. Or anywhere near it. My brother learned this painful lesson when he had to give up cricket for a month after his sixer resulted in a broken mirror.

Before we sat in the car, he would ensure our hands and shoes were clean and our pockets were empty of food. His golden rule was no eating in the car. There was this moment on a Sports Day. In my jubilation after winning a gold, I broke this rule and spilt a few drops of strawberry milkshake on the seat. I could sense dad’s rage – the flaming eyes, flaring nostrils, gnashing teeth, and the ticking vein on his left temple. But he didn’t utter a word. Perhaps the gleaming gold medal over my heart stopped him. That night, as I rubbed my thumb repeatedly over the medal, I watched dad as he tried to clean the car.

When it was time for us to learn how to drive, mom suggested that we practice in dad’s “old car.” Before dad could get over his outrage and shock, I told her off for calling the car old. She grounded me, but I didn’t regret the words.

What brought this change?

Growing up, I tried to find new ways to bond with my dad. The best way was to help him clean the car every day. The first time I approached the car with an old cloth, he looked puzzled. And then I could see the pride on his face. With patience and love, he taught me how to clean and polish the car until it gleamed.

“Does mom love her car more than she loves me?”

I hear the tiny squeak as I come out of my reverie. I beckon my daughter and give her a piece of cloth. Gently, I guide her arm over the bonnet. That gleam of joy in her eyes is my biggest reward.

We start our own daily ritual. Each movement is precise and practised. We clean and polish the car until it gleams. It feels like meditation.

A polished mirror:
A reward for all my sweat,
I see in your gleam