I know it’s quite late. Dangal was on the theatre few months ago. But, actually it wasn’t kind of movie which dominated all studios in every cinema like the one with superheros on it. If I am not mistaken, Dangal was only available in very few certain cinemas in South Jakarta.
I finished watching it yesterday with the doctor on Netflix and I have been repeating some of its scenes on my head. A great movie always stays longer on your head and probably forever in your heart. Dangal has those two possibilities.
It was one based on true story about Indian wrestling athlete who once fought for the country for Olympic and had to be satisfied with silver medal. The thirst for gold medal haunted him for a long time until he decided that one of his children should take the same path like him and accomplished what he’d been dreaming of.
It turned out that his first child was a girl. He tried again then the second turned to be a girl too. Until the fourth child, all he had were girls.
One certain conflict trigerred this father to start training his two oldest daughters to become a wrestler. He trained Geeta and Bambita hard. Started early in the morning, trained them like a professional wrestler. These girls, no matter how unhappy they were with their father doing, they kept going with the training. They tried to fail the plan sometimes and they failed miserably.
Although all of his family were against the idea, including the girls’ mother, he kept going. He asked his wife to give him a year to train the girls. If there were no result, then he would give up his dream forever.
I won’t tell a whole story here and of course, the movie goes like we expect. It’s truly worth your 2,5 hours of time watching it. Unlike my husband, I am rarely into a movie. Unlike dramas, movie often makes me sleep.
I survived Dangal from the first minute until its last credit title. Some tissues surely needed while watching it.
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One of the reasons why I survived Dangal until the very end, and more, even take some time to write a post about this, because it reminds me of some familiar moments.
I was once Geeta and Bambita with a mother like their father. Although the achievement is nothing compared to those girls and their father, I experienced similar things like those two girls went through until the very end. I felt like re-watching my thirteen years of life in the past while watching Dangal.
When the father unachieved dream was about Olympic gold medal, my mother’s was piano. She had been dreaming of being able to play piano for a long time. Until my father gave up one of his Vespas to buy her a decent upright piano. Right after marriage, she started learning privately at home. But, not for long, she was pregnant with me and her pregnancy wasn’t the easy one.
She stopped learning for some time until she had a chance to resume her lesson, after her second child was born. She waited that long. But, again, being a working mom with two little babies were surely not easy. She told me whenever she had her lesson when my sister was sleeping, this little baby suddenly woke up and refused to go back to sleep. Again, she finally had to give up her private lesson.
It wasn’t my mom if she gave up easily. Once we were older, she started searching for a music school to learn. She came to one of music schools in Manggarai, and asking some information to join a piano course. The administrator laughed at her and said they only had and allowed piano course for children age 5-12, maximum, if they hadn’t learned anything before. She came home with a blank form with her.
I was only five when this happened and on my third years in kindergarten due to unsufficient age to enroll primary school. For certain reason, my mother thought it might be boring to spent three years in kindergarten and it was better for me to have something other than school. Then, with such thought, she enrolled me to that music school.
She told me later, if she couldn’t manage to play piano at all, then at least she could see her daughter (and all her children actually. Three of us went to the music school) plays.
Similar to the father in Dangal, she too didn’t have the support from her husband, my father. My father was against the idea thinking it would be burdensome to pay for another bill while it wasn’t compulsory. There were three of us already. For an ordinary government employee, supporting five people was surely hard already.
But, again, it wasn’t my mum if she gave up easily. She stood firm to her decision, told my father that she wouldn’t ask a penny from him to pay the monthly tuition. Luckily, she was working and had her own money too. She even told him, she wouldn’t bother him about sending me to the school. She would take all the responsibilities about this.
She really meant what she said. I still remembered clearly, she sent me to the music school in a bright hot day, by public transport, while bringing her two other children along. My brother was only one at that time.
We walked from home to the nearest public transport stop, about fifteen minutes, put my brother’s stroller in a small warung, then got on a mikrolet until terminal and changed to bajaj to the music school. It went the same for the return trip. Bajaj until terminal, a mikrolet until the residence gate, took the stroller from the warung and walked home. She had been doing that for at least five or six years until my father started to take part in our music course.
I couldn’t imagine how she kept surviving all those hassles,bringing three little children in a hot bright day, by public transport, twice a week, for a mere 20-minutes piano lesson. Yes, TWENTY MINUTES ONLY EACH LESSON TWICE A WEEK. For this part, I think my mother won a big time over Geeta and Bambita’s father.
She might not be able to train me like the Dangal father, but she never skipped any single lesson for whatever reason. If there were any, I couldn’t remember it at all. It was very similar to the father who never skipped a single morning and afternoon training for his daughters. Although she couldn’t play at all, she accompanied me practising at home. Made a practice schedule daily and sat right next to me.
Similar to Geeta and Bambita, I wasn’t too happy too with such training. It was hard and I came to tell my mother cried and said I wanted to quit. But, she kept telling me to go on and said to finish what I had started.
I won’t repeat the whole story about this since I have written an old post about this here. What I want to point is what my mother and this Dangal father did.
Unlike the recent parenting trend where parents are told better not to push the children to do something related to their ambitions, both parents were doing the opposite way.
I think, with the right nature and nurture, parents who push their ambition, as long as it is something good and worth fighting for, it could give the children something beyond what they could think of.
For many aspects in life, parents know better. They could see something beyond what the children could see. Sometimes, they have to drag the children to the roughest path for them to be able to find a great treasure. But, what some parents forget is they have to go through the same rough path as well and not letting the children go alone.
If it weren’t because of her father, Geeta and Bambita would never ever felt such great feeling standing on the highest podium, with a gold medal on their neck, while hearing (and singing) their national anthem played in a world sport event around the world. Not only for their own pride, but the gave the glory to their country.
Mine was surely very far from what they achieved. But, the feeling of accomplishing something well after long and hard years of trainings, litre of sweat and tears, days and weeks of lack of goodnight sleep, ton of patience, determination, and strong persevereance, I was lucky to be able to feel such feeling thanks to my mother. One of the best feeling I have ever felt in my life.
Dangal told you something about raising a (champion) child : There’s no easy way to avhieve good results in parenting. If you feel it’s easy and relaxing, then it’s almost certain that you are not doing it right.
The children might have hard times to keep up with such parents. But, what I came to understand after being a parent, it was the parents who have a harder and the hardest times. Watching the father massaged the girls feet while they were sleeping, cooking them chicken so they could have more protein to fight well, staying close to the national camp so he could train them early in the morning, booking a whole cinema to watch all Geeta’s matches so he could analyze where she failed, and many more.
My mother had been through the same thing and might be harder. When Geeta and Bambita were surely talented, it wasn’t the case for me. No matter how often harsh comments she received from the teacher about how untalented I was, she swallowed it all and kept going.
Whenever exam period came, she woke me up at 3 am and accompanied me to practice until subuh. Then, twice a week, she sent me to the music school at 7 pm for repclass and my father would pick me up at 12 am. Midnight. For a whole two months every year. She was with me to go through everything until the very end.
I surely have a big doubt if I will be able to keep up with such boldness to my own children. To fight myself to do something right over something easy is a hard work. Even if I feel I have already done and tried hard, sometimes it is just myself who wants to justify the less-effforts work I have done.
So, If you haven’t watched it, Dangal is a recommended one to spend 2,5 hours of quality time with your family. It’s absolutely on my a must watch list to watch it with Langit later insya Allah.
Happy watching!
A Penny for My Pensieve 