Essay on My Father for Students and Children 1000+ Words

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Essay on My Father (1000+ Words)

Typically, people speak of mother’s love and appreciation, and often overlook the father’s attention. Mother’s love is talked extensively around anywhere, in film, in series, and much more.

What we fail to recognize, though, is the power of a parent who always gets overlooked. My father is a gift which not many citizens see in their lives. 

It’d be incorrect to assume that every dad is the perfect hero for his kids, and it is not the case. However, I will voucher for my dad without even any second thoughts until it comes to becoming an ideal man.

How different is my father?

As everyone wants to assume that their father is exceptional, so do me. However, this belief is not purely based on the passion I have for him but also on his character.

My father has a company and is very diligent in all facets of life. My father is one of those who told me to exercise still professionalism, no matter what kind of work I do.

Most notably, he has a pleasant disposition and always makes my mom laugh with his dumb shenanigans, and after 27 months of the relationship.

I totally enjoy this dumb side of him when he’s around his relatives. He does his hardest to satisfy all our desires, but he still retains strictness whenever the need arises.

My childhood memories about him are a stern, strict, or not very conversational man. He would crack its most funny jokes of Dad, and we’ll all laugh and smile.

He felt a persevering and robust sense of obligation for his own birth family and also his marital ones.

The meager paycheck that he always received would be shared between such two families, so when he was bad in currying favor or supporting himself, my father did not rise inside the ranks, so his profits remained very mirage until he passed.

This formally made us a low-income family, so our childhoods were thrifty, frugal, and austere. A little bit of money mattered a lot.

In spite of these limitations, my father has effectively prepared our futures. If his provident money was released during his retirement, he used the whole sum, plus a personal loan, to purchase a home and in the name of his young son. We had a roof above our heads and for the remainder of our days.

Why do I like my father?

Among the most amazing aspects of my father was the number of things he was involved in.

He’d spend hours from outside the tailor’s shop seeing him making shirts, and within a few months, he purchased himself the Singer sewing machine. From that day forward, all our clothing, along with the winter school uniforms, were sewn by him.

He taught himself carpentry and designed the sofa sets that we’ve been using for generations.

He got to learn dry cleaning and then after that, in winter, we did go to school smelling kerosene.

My father was a great chef, so he enjoyed the food. While my mother was immobilized by lymphatic TB, she must have prepared breakfast, lunch, or dinner for her family and in the morning until heading off to work.

Best of everyone, he was a talented guitarist, blessed with the vichitra veena. He had a Carnatic’ band’ of his own with such a flautist as well as a mridangam player.

Things I learned from my father

Slowly, I learned how much more of how I was influenced by who he is and. Like him, I’m never tired, so I’m always intrigued by everything else in my life.

I’m still interested in doing something positive or educational. I’m 2 two years younger now than he was while he died, so I began to learn how to play piano, appreciate search engine optimization, UX design, or drawing.

I heard from him every kindness is a frame of mind, not a wallet condition. The amount of nameless, faceless poor folks my father supported was long, which we heard only when he passed.

Never demeaning the recipients with such a handout, he encouraged them to reimburse at their pace and time but made saying they actually so, preserving their self-respect.

Without even talking about it, he taught me what something means to become a parent, and what it means to become a lifeless person.

My father as the source of motivation

I can proudly say that this was my father, who was the source of my inspiration since day one. In those other words, his outlook and personality influenced me together like a human.

About the same way, he still has a huge effect on the environment inside his own little ways. My father dedicates his spare time to have to take care of stray animals that encourage me to be doing the same thing.

My father has told me the essence of love in the shape of a rose that he gives to my mother every day without fail. This continuity and devotion encourage us all to handle them in the same manner.

All my experience in sports or vehicles, I’ve come from my dad. This is one of the few reasons why I want to be a cricket player in the future.

10 Lines on my father

  1. He is a caring and obliging man who takes care of my whole family.
  2. He is a talented engineer or a very hard-working individual.
  3. He’s an articulate guy who answers all the questions smartly.
  4. My father loves his own family, my mother, or every member of the family.
  5. He retains a cordial relationship with our family, acquaintances, and colleagues.
  6. He’s going to bring my sister or me to college or my mother for work every day.
  7. Every day, he supports my younger sister in our studies and me.
  8. He shows us proper manners, compassion, and the ethic of living.
  9. My dad is my role model, and one day I want to be around him.
  10. My father is, or is always, a huge inspiration to me.

Conclusion

My friendship with my father is summed up by a single occurrence. He wanted me to attend the IIT for becoming an engineer.

I decided to become a novelist, a career he disdained to have no future. Headstrong, in 1969, I left the train wherein my family moved via Delhi to Bombay even as the whistle sounded. I’ve been bent on enjoying my way of life.

My father, profoundly upset, cut me over without a country, saying that I should really help myself whether I was so optimistic about writing. But so did I, raising enough by writing night papers to cover my lease, college tuition, or food.

Six months later, my dad, moving via Delhi in December, met me to see how his powerful-headed son would do and saw that I had lived quite well without borrowing and asking. He was clearly swelled with pride.

My father hugged me, forgave me for one moment, used 400 rupees as a Christmas bonus to buy me utensils, a mattress, and other essentials.

Since that day on, he could happily say, “My son pursued his heart more than my head – see what a great job he did.”

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