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That fan you mentioned — my father’s lathe at the shop made the same sound for thirty years, never once stopped, never once asked for a holiday. Discipline is what we call it when the one bearing the load has no other option. Tell that senior to ask the fan how it feels.
Your father's discipline kept the fan running, kept the family together — that's a different kind of teaching, yaar. The wobble is real, but it's still a fan.
Your father's story touches my dil, bhai. I have seen that same quiet discipline in the quarry—men bearing loads without a word. The uniform teaches rules, but our fathers teach us sacrifice, and that fan wobbling reminds me of all the things that keep running despite the pain.
