This particular photograph resurfaced on Father’s Day and its significance should be rather self-evident. It is both light and heavy – so much so that my three daughters keep me grounded till today. The mirth and joy on their faces is reinvigorating and the photograph never fails to open a flood of warm and blissful memories from their childhood.
There is a backstory here. A keen observer may notice that I am wincing from the vigorous activity being performed on an injured back. But horses could not have dragged me away from the moment. The girls were customarily employed as a ‘wake-up alarm’ to stir me into action on a post-prandial moment on Sunday afternoons. The activity may have been contrary to medical advice, but you would get diametrically opposite diagnosis from an orthopaedic and a cardiovascular professional.
I would be negligent if I did not pay tribute to the photographer who captured this gratifying moment, though her intentions were probably to garner evidence for a potential ‘I told you so’ reprimand in the near future. I was never found culpable.