Guest Post: Archita of a Journey Called Life, on Lessons from Dad

photo credit: Minifig Mini-Me via photopin (license)
photo credit: Minifig Mini-Me via photopin (license)

I met today’s guest poster through music.

guest postChristy on Running on Sober used to run a series called Life in Six Songs. I had the honor of compiling one of the final posts, one I was quite proud of. Anyway, it was through that series that I met Archita, and her blog, A Journey Called Life. Archita (cool name, right?) mixes brilliant words and beautiful photography on her site, with poetry, challenges and stories from her journey interspersed.

Today, she’s here to talk about her dad.

Dads – any parents, really – hope they’ll have the type of impact Archita’s did on her. In fatherhood – parenthood, really – it’s not like you get to perform your routine, then sit and wait for the judges’ scores to post, like in figure skating.

No, our influence plays out every day in ways we can’t often detect, and becomes part of the fabric our children become as they get older. Archita’s dad, like Tarana’s in a guest post here before, sets a high bar for the rest of us dads.

Please give Archita a warm CD welcome, and check out her blog, too.


Courtesy of Archita
Courtesy of Archita

(Eli is one proud father. There are times when I read his stories, I remember my childhood. When he asked me to guest-post, I really wanted to write about my father.  Thank you, Eli, for giving me a space to share my story here.)

As we grow old, we start looking like our parents. We also behave like them, eat healthy food, drink more water and count our blessings. As uncanny as it looks, it’s a phase that we cannot avoid. Live long enough, you can notice faces repeating again, your friends resembling their parents, smiling at you, waving from the lawn the way their parents did.

I am like my father nowadays. I see the pattern in my behavior, eating and reading habit. Society proudly says: like father, like son. Like father like daughter is one unheard phrase. As if there’s no pride in being the shadow of your most favorite person.

My father is a wise man. It’s an honor to be the daughter of the father who knows the names and geography of all one hundred ninety six countries of the world without visiting many of them.

My father is passionate about all his hobbies, especially general knowledge and football ( Oh! I know you call it soccer. But we always called it football.) He feels sorry if Brazil loses a game, even though he has no connection with the country. It feels like he has known each of those players since their childhood. Such is his love for football. He is also very passionate about women’s empowerment. He envisions a world where men and women co-exist happily without stereotypes, where a man cooks a meal without getting frowns from lovely neighbor ladies, where a lady wears a blazer and solves complex maths.

But what do I love the most about my father? 1. I look like him. He’s one of the most handsome people in the whole family. 2. He discusses football with me. 3. He does not advise me if he has no knowledge on the subject. “Every life is different. Who am I to offer advices?” He points out with a mild philosophical note.

But there are many great lessons I learned by observing him for all these years. I noted them silently and followed without making much noise. Those lessons became the pillar of my strength after a certain point. I am sharing only six lessons here.

1. Be self-sufficient

In a world where everyone teaches you to be independent, my father calls himself self-sufficient. ” As humans we all need each other. Living an independent happy life is nearly impossible.” But living happily with what you have, without expecting much from others- is what my father calls a self-sufficient life. I love it.

photo credit: DSC_6677 via photopin (license)
photo credit: DSC_6677 via photopin (license)

2. Girls can, too

Even though it’s twenty first century, we hear too many stories that loudly judge girls. Girls cannot drive. Girls cannot do maths. Girls cannot be good leaders. But my dad always said, “Girls can, too.” He said it when I won many maths competitions, or lost Sudoku challenge to another girl. He said it proudly. I cannot tell you how I confident I feel each time I hear him saying it.

3. You have all the time to do what you want to do

I am one over-dreamer. I want to finish so many half-done things. Painting. Running. Biking. Photography. Management. Each time I meet him, I complain, “I don’t have enough time to achieve all my dreams.” He answers, “We all have enough time. It just needs proper planning and hard work. Time is nobody’s enemy.” I agree.

4. Listen to crap, but don’t collect

My father is a good listener. He sits patiently during quiet and loud discussions. He shares, “People love telling stories. There are good stories. And there are gossips. Both I cannot avoid. While good stories make me feel great, bad ones leave some influences too. I listen to them, but don’t collect.” One of the best lessons for me.

5.There are enough bad people, but there’s only one life

My father never asks me to find good in people, if that’s completely invisible. He simply says, “There are enough bad people. But your one life is precious. Don’t waste it in wrong company.” I remember that statement when I come across people I cannot like.

6. Break your comfort zone

“Home is where your family is,” I heard him saying it with a smile. For his job, he traveled a lot. He never wanted to be that frog in the well. “Travel is the best book,” he says, “Travel as much as you can, now that you’re young.” Through travel, he tasted different food, tried different clothes, met different people, made the most wonderful memory and cultivated wonderful philosophy. When I started travelling the world, he was the most proud father sitting on the couch, asking me about the weather, local vegetables and seafood. “One life is not enough. It’s such a big world,” his voice was happy and optimistic about a future, out wide open.

father quote


  1. I love this and very much agree feeling this way actually about both my mom and dad now that I am older and wiser 😉

    1. Eli Pacheco says:

      Or maybe they’re finally older and wiser, Janine, finally.

      1. Archita says:

        Ha ha! I agree with you and Eli both! 😀 Thank you for reading

  2. Indira says:

    Loved this. We remember father’s teachings when he is gone, most of the time.

    1. Archita says:

      I guess, we don’t value relationships until they’re broken. But for many of us, the silent admirers, our parents are one of the best gifts from nature! Thank you for reading, Indira.

      1. Indira says:

        So true Archita dear.

      2. Eli Pacheco says:

        Our parents, hopefully, will be the constant when those relationships flourish and sometimes break.

  3. Archita says:

    Thank you so much for the great introduction and giving me a space to share the story here, Eli. I’m truly honored.

    1. Eli Pacheco says:

      It’s an honor to have you here, Archita!

  4. Archita, loved every word here. Having blessed with one such father, I could completely co-relate here. So much love you guys share:):) lucky you!

    1. Archita says:

      Love, battles, bitter silence,sweet nostalgia- We share all. But you are right, lucky me. 🙂 Thank you for reading, Rashmi.

    2. Eli Pacheco says:

      We dads hope we get it right like this, Rashmi!

  5. Well written . So much love in every word 🙂

    1. Archita says:

      Yayy! Thank you!

  6. Indira says:

    Reblogged this on Indira's Blog and commented:
    This post reminded me of my father’s teachings.
    Father said,

    Get up you lazy bones,

    Birds are out of nest,

    Chirping, jumping on the branches.

    Getting up late is unhealthy habit

    Father said,

    Get up you lazy bones,

    Birds are out of nest,

    Chirping, jumping on the branches.

    Getting up late is unhealthy habit

    Do some exercise or play,

    I never listened and slept.

    Father said,

    Only dreaming and playing,

    Will take you nowhere,

    Study hard and get some knowledge.

    Knowledge is power

    Knowledge will get you connected with all.

    I paused and

    To play, I left.

    Now father is no more,

    My life is in shambles,

    My bones all grumble,

    All those teachings of my father,

    I remembered and wept.

    1. Archita says:

      That’s a beautiful tribute, Indira. Thank you so much for sharing and reblog too. 🙂

  7. tamaralikecamera says:

    It’s funny what you said because I’ve been noticing lately that childhood friends of mine now look so much like their parents did then. It’s.. eerie. And cool.
    I don’t look anything like my mom! My father passed away young, only a year older than I’m about to be, but I think I look a lot like him.

    1. Archita says:

      Eerie indeed. It’s also hurtful if one couldn’t like a parent and resembled him/her later. I don’t look like my mom too, though she still compares our features. I read your post, Tamara. What a great piece of writing it was! So glad to know you through Eli. Thank you for reading.

      1. Eli Pacheco says:

        Archita, you’re going to love Tamara’s blog.

    2. Eli Pacheco says:

      I think you look like him too, Tamara – and there are probably subtle things you do that are from him, too.

  8. ksbeth says:

    yes, such an incredibly strong and important message. i hope that all girls know and believe this to be true.

    1. Eli Pacheco says:

      we dads can help deliver the message.

    2. Archita says:

      Thank you for reading and leaving such a great comment. 🙂

      1. Eli Pacheco says:

        Archita – she leaves great posts on her blog too – check her out!

      2. Archita says:

        Definitely. Thank you, Eli. 🙂

  9. Christy Anna Beguins says:

    I love “Listen to crap, but don’t collect.” Sometimes I forget that people just need to vent and fuss, and that once it is out, it’s out and done. I don’t need to hang on to their words. And also the news every day. So much bad in the world that it’s easy to just remember all the horrible stories they share on the news, but your dad’s advice works here too. Plus, if we use all of our internal space saving and collecting the “crap,” what space will we have to collect the joy and love and good stuff of life?

    Ah…and “time is not your enemy.” So true. Time is just time. If we really want to do something, we make time. Otherwise, we make excuses.

    Thanks for hosting Archita over here Eli, it’s great to catch up with you both! Thanks for the shout out to Life in Six Songs…that was such a fun project. Maybe I’ll reblog some of those over the summer.

    1. Eli Pacheco says:

      Excellent points, Christy. The ‘crap’ isn’t easy to purge (that sounds way worse than it’s meant), but really, we have to make room for the joy in life. Great to see you here … and I love the idea of reblogging from that music project! I loved being part of it.

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.