Killing The Father...

Before It Is Too Late

WATCH THE VIDEO AT THE BOTTOM BEFORE READING

In the scene, Vik, an established doctor at the top of his profession, confides to Sierra that he was recently diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer—a death sentence.

He would rather avoid chemo and make the last days of his remaining life as enjoyable as they can.

His life was always about meeting the expectations of his immigrant parents to become a doctor at the top of his profession.

His only promise to himself was that he would not marry or have children for them.

He eventually met his love, Helen, who came with kids from her first marriage. He knew that it would annoy his parents, who wanted grandkids.

But he then realised that, for all his success, he had never lived his life true to himself. He made everyone else except him a priority out of duty or even guilt. Even his latest actions are a reaction to the ongoing low-key resentment toward his parents.

But really, it is about secretly hating himself for not having stood up to them earlier. Vik's efforts are just some half-middle fingers to them. Now, the penny has just dropped when he is at Death Gates.

As a young guy, especially if you look up to and respect your Father, his approval will be part of building your identity. However, this can also be detrimental to building your character.

In not killing the Father, you will always live in his shadow and seek his approval. This does not make you an adult but a grown-ass child.

It happened at a key moment when I was about to finish my BSc, the major which my father also suggested. As a high-ranking civil servant, he wanted me to follow a similar path, this time as an officer in the Army.

Out of respect for him and for all his previous investments in my education, I decided to honour at least the very act of trying, even though something felt off about it.

It was a "concours" (a French exam in which only a few candidates eventually get selected). I went there in good faith and passed the written exam. I was called for the last round, where they would test the remaining few candidates on their physical fitness and psychological tendencies, to end with a final interview.

The night before the final interviews, in the heat of the summer in the South of France, I could not sleep the whole night. When I entered the interview room, I knew I had to screw it up because I did not want to be stuck on a secure path with an above-average career just because my Father wanted me out of his payroll ASAP.

I still remember a few questions from the Psychologist and the 3 Star General leading the interview panel:

Psychologist: "From our assessment, you show quite a lot of individualism. Do you think that is what is suited for the role of an officer?"

"It is a dog-eat-dog world, and I am all about my financial safety; I cater for myself before I cater to others."

3 Star General: "So in a situation where you have people under your command, you will throw them under the bus."

"What is in it for me here? 1500 euros per month, food and accommodation paid, having the next 5 years sorted, and gaining some skills along the way thanks to the generosity of the French State. That is fine; if one wants to live in the suburbs of a second-tier city, having an average-looking disgruntled broad, driving a Renault Scenic, bringing up a couple of brats and have a dog, I want more".

Soon after, the interview ended.

After I did this, I felt relieved. It was then that I knew I could not follow the ABC path that my Father, with the right intention, wanted me to follow.

Parents will want you to go through a specific journey according to their success metrics, often stifling the young man's identity along the way.

But it is only natural for a son to make his own path and develop his confidence, competence, and identity. Otherwise, he may find himself at 40 years old with an identity crisis because he has lived for everyone else, be it his parents, his spouse, or his kids.

To add insult to injury, I took the Finance path, which my Grandfather tried to engineer for my dad to follow in his younger days. Amusingly enough, he refused, too, as he hated everything that had to do with Finance, so he did the same thing to me that his dad did to him.

Despite the disappointment, eventually, my Grandfather respected my Father, standing up to him, and so did my Father towards me. Still, the bitterness of the outcome did not altogether leave him.

He told me in the car years later before I turned 30:

"I made peace with you not joining the army."

"How come?"

"I understood you only cared about money and bitches, despite your intellectual inkling."

"Pretty much"