#Paternal

[notokayjuslikefuckinmcr]

[jodjuya]

Kinda bothers me that "paternalism" is a strictly pejorative term, so when I want to speak positively about being a male father-figure I have to use indirect language.

E.g. "Being paternal has always come easily and naturally to me."

Versus: "paternalism has always come easily and naturally to me."

These two sentences have completely different meanings!! One means "I'm good at being a dad" and the other one means "I'm good at being shitty to people"!!

Can't just casually derive the noun from the adjective without it becoming inherently negative. So bogus!!!!

[beyond-mogai-pride-flags]

Monopaternal Pride Flag

Monopaternity (solopaternity, unipaternity) or monofatherhood (monofathership/unifathership, unifatherhood, solofatherhood/solofathership): a form of monoparental (uniparental, soloparental) in which someone is parented by only one father; and/or the state of being a single-father.

Alternate adjectives: solopaternal, unipaternal.

[rambalaings]

R2 - Paternal Grandfather Remembered - Part II

This is a post I wrote on my old Blogger site more than 15 years ago, I have reprinted the text faithfully only making minor edits to preserve the purity of the memory from back then.

PAST PONDER

Background It has been almost 40 years since my Paternal Grandfather left for the heavens on August 13th, 1983. I was still very young and this was the first personal tragedy that I have experienced in my life. Although it feels sad that I could not spend more time with this man, who I was named after, the silver lining on the clouds through which he must be watching me, is that I got to spend 6 years with him, during most of which, I was still a toddler. Lots of what I have described are rather blurred images from my brain and I will back it up with what I have heard from my family members over the years after his departure. This post will exercise my memory more than most others and is dedicated to my Thatha (Grandpa).

The Story So Far…

I had written about my thatha’s humble beginnings, his parents, his wedding, and his troubles soon after. Please read the first post in the series, to recharge or load your memory with mine. Here, grab this pensieve, but I am no witch and this is no magic, just memories!

Dehu Road to Delhi… My paati and her children were stuck in Dehu Road indefinitely since there was no communication from thatha. Thatha’s sister and brother-in-law, albeit in a good position, were not necessarily the most hospitable hosts. They were quite unkind to these three and I am told that my paati, still a young girl, who was loved by an auditor, while she was quite happily spending her teenage with her family, found herself in very difficult circumstances. She had to walk several miles to get ration arisi (rationed rice), wash clothes, clean the house, etc. She would have to undergo that torture for 4-5 months before they would hear from thatha. This in my opinion, was the lowest point for my grandpa. His young family had to endure the consequences of a mistake that he had committed and they certainly did not deserve this.

Finally, it seemed as if their testing times were over! My grandpa called his family to Delhi, where he had taken up a decent job. But since he was still new to the job, he could not get time off to go in person to escort them to their new home in Rajghat, yes, near the Gandhi samadhi. The young lady and her two kids set off to Delhi in a train from Dehu Road, perhaps to the relief of their not-so-dear relatives. Hearing about these things still makes me wonder how my Paati is still in talking terms with these people to this day! Perhaps that is the magic of wisdom, that I might still lack.

They arrived in Delhi Station, some 24 hours later, and flagged a cabbie and innocently showed him the address of where they wanted to go to. The sardar taxi driver was nothing like the smiling and sincere ones we see in New York city these days. He was intent on making his bucks, so he took them on an unsolicited tour of Delhi city for what seemed to be ages! My paati took to some brave heroine-ic steps to get them out of there. I do not want to steal the thunder of this post from my grandpa by going into those “steps”. I will post those in a separate post at Past Ponder. Delhi se gaye to Bambai… phir bhi na gaya prachanai…

Reportedly, happiness did not come without a bout of gloom for them in those days. My thatha and paati had another girl, my younger aunt. The elder kids were going to a modest school in Saraswathi Vidyalaya in Chembur, near the present day Chembur bridge. Soon, two of my thatha’s sisters came to stay with them, since they had no one else to turn to. My thatha’s brother was also staying with them. It was a large family under one roof. But thatha stood strong like a rock and supported everyone, with some good assistance from his brother. But soon, his brother got married and moved on to Madras. They underwent a lot of financial difficulties, sometimes to the extent of not being able to pay my dad’s fees, unable to afford good clothes or school uniform, like you see in many movies.

Entering Vrindavan… Bombay soon became the city that thatha and paati began loving. They also got some of their best friends here. They remain in touch until today. R.C.K and his wife Sushila were really notable and so were Ramamurthi Mama & Mami. Sometimes, it is tough to imagine what life would have been, but for these people. Ramamurthi Mama, who was in Income Tax, was a very influencial person. He managed to secure a loan for thatha to be able to buy a decent apartment in Tilak Road, the place I would first call home when I set foot into this world! I owe it to an extent to Ramamurthi Mama!

In 1961, the construction on the three floor apartment building, Vrindavan in Ghatkopar would be completed and ours was the watch tower flat on the third floor. Sure enough, R.C.K also bought an apartment on the same building and same floor, though in a different wing, connected by the terrace upstairs. I am sure it must have been the biggest moment of their lives in those times. Here is where several important events in our history would take place and our family would live in that flat for exactly 30 years!

The Golden Era… My thatha began to grow steadily in a respectable position at Godrej. He and his colleague friend, R.C.K, would also have a lot of fun at Vrindavan with their families and descendants. Their social lives would bloom and the kids would always have dear friends to play with. They shared a lot in common, including their interests, hobbies, etc. The least of things I would like to mention as a common thing between them is their appetite for tobacco. My thatha used to consume a lot of thambakoo paan; this unfortunately carried on to my dad, of course not genetically, but just coincidentally. My dad has far surpassed his father on tobacco consumption and this is something I am really disgusted with. Appa, you reading???

Life started getting better, the number on the Class column on kids’ notebooks would keep increasing. Thatha could now afford to send the youngest offspring to a famed school, Fathima, which until today remains one of the best schools in Greater Bombay. He must have been very proud of his growth and achievement, while feeling a tinge of disappointment that he could not do the same for his elder kids. However, I am very sure that the elder kids are not complaining. He did all that he could to get them great education at the college level. My dad went on to do an M.Com and LLb, while my aunt was content with her B.A, after which she vowed that she was done studying. The younger aunt went on to do a B.Com as well.

Soon, my dad started work at Godrej as a junior typist. It was a position that my thatha was heavily influential in starting him with. But understandably, he wished that my dad could get better things. This did not take too long and my father joined as a junior clerk in the Union Bank of India, at Muhammed Ali Road, Masjid Bunder. This was in the hub of Bombay and the buzz of activity. My dad would keep taunting thatha playfully, that he worked in the New York of Bombay, whereas thatha went to a remote town in Iowa, to Godrej at Vikhroli. Soon, my aunt also started at Godrej, after completing her B.A.

One after another, there were reasons to celebrate in the family. Whether it was the day when Bharath television arrived, or it was the time when the Godrej refrigerator came in. But to my thatha, the biggest pleasure must have been when the large Grundig gramaphone arrived. He was a great connoisseur of music, which was not necessarily appreciated by my paati. He loved music from Balamuralikrishna, T.M.S, M.S.Subbalakshmi and devotional songs like Alai Payudhey (old one), Kurai Onrum Illai, etc. To this day, my paati will get tears in her eyes if you sing one of those songs. He also used to be a good singer of these songs. This is surely something that has not been genetically carried over to me; I am a disaster when it comes to singing! Kids no longer… Bring on the Wedding Bells!

In 1975, when my thatha was 48, he decided that it was time to get his elder daughter married to relieve some of his responsibilities. My dad, who had wanted to go on to do his Chartered accountancy, had to go to work since although, the family was doing better than before, it could do with more help. So, my dad took on an assist role to add a few hundred rupees per month into the home pool. Thatha also began doing some part time work over the weekends with a private auditor, Shetty. This was a crucial step for me and one of the main reasons I got to spend even more time with my thatha, as I was to find out much later!

My aunt got married to a Science graduate, who hailed from Kandhivili, working for Goodlass Nerolac Paints. His family was an endearing one, especially his mom, Dadi as I remember her was very sociable and personable. More about her in another post. In 1976, a year after my elder aunt’s wedding, thatha thought it was appropriate to get his son settled down in life, since his other daughter was way off in terms of age, she was just entering college and surely she had aspirations of working for a while independently.

Thatha and Paati with assistance from my elder aunt, filtered through the eligible alliances and then they landed up at my mom’s place in Sion. My maternal grandfather, also one of my most revered persons, had made sure to do all the necessary background checks about this family and he was convinced about the authenticity. A battalion of more than 10 people landed up at my mother’s residence in Sion for the “ponnu paakara” ceremony. My mom would still keep complaining that, if there were so many people (men) that came, how would she ever know who the groom was?? My dad at that time was still a young and puny lad of 25. So, there was no easy way to find out who the groom was. My mother initially thought that my athimber (aunt’s hubby) was the groom! After all the singing and talking, my father was still undecided although he did like the girl. The groom side did not respond for days together and the pulse was speeding up on the bride side.

I was told that my paati was looking at other candidates without my thatha’s knowledge under the pretext of “thinking for a while”. Thatha got furious at this and picked up the phone, without asking anyone and told my maternal grandfather that he had really picked his daughter-in-law in his daugther. Thus my parents were united on March 3rd 1976 in a marital bond.

Thatha becomes a Grand Parent but suffers a stroke!! Pretty soon after that, my thatha who would have already been overjoyed by two weddings in the family, would have another great reason to rejoice. His first grandchild was born on April 11th 1976, which was my elder cousin. He was overjoyed and held aloft the newest member of his progeny, a mottai yet extremely fair kid. Thatha, who through his middle ages had become somewhat proficient in reading horoscopes, predicted great things for this guy. He said his grandson would be brilliant and would have a lot of opportunities to grow in life. If he took the right decisions, he would become world famous. He was definitely right to a large extent, looking back.

I think the turn of events were too swift and too much for my thatha’s heart to take. It decided to take a moment to go offbeat, but this impacted my thatha in the form of a heart attack in early 1977. This was his first sign of a weak heart as the cardiogram revealed and although there would be much to rejoice in the years to come, his heart would never be the same…..

I have to pause here….

To be concluded……

[zodiacts]

Zodiacts: Leo Limelight Lunacy Trailer

Dazzle the world with your radiant glow as Moon shines through dramatic Leo.

[sugarcraftproductions]

[G} Wikk and Heraven

Gift art for Wikk of his sona and my character Heraven enjoying a loving embrace. Based on an RP Commission Info: https://www.sugarcraft-productions.com Please consider becoming a supporter if you enjoy my art <3 https://subscribestar.adult/sugarcraft-productions Join my Discord server! (18+) discord.gg/882fvXrj2v

Posted using PostyBirb

[nollimet]

Just some late night post card making ft Gars

[ID: horizontal lines of blue and white identical garfish with orange and yellow stars interspersed. end ID]

[webcrawler3000]

Title: The Unprecedented Collisions of Familial Faultlines: A Reflection on the West Coast Mindlink Phenomenon

Introduction:

The delicate intricacies of familial relationships can sometimes resemble geological faultlines, pushing and pulling against each other, occasionally leading to seismic shifts that redefine family dynamics. Such a scenario unfolded when an extraordinary event occurred, as the entire faultline within my paternal family, spanning from Canada to Mexico on the west coast, experienced a dramatic upheaval shortly after the development of a peculiar phenomenon known as mindlinking.

Body:

Mindlinking: A Catalyst for Transformation

The advent of mindlinking introduced a profound transformation, allowing individuals to establish a deep and heightened connection with their family members. This newfound ability to empathize, share thoughts, and experience emotions in unison had the potential to bridge gaps within previously strained relationships. However, in the case of my paternal family, it became a catalyst that revealed and exacerbated underlying tensions.

The Ripple Effect: Familial Faultlines in Motion

Like tectonic plates slipping along a geological faultline, the familial tensions within my paternal family had long been building up, albeit inconspicuously. The emergence of mindlinking served as a pivotal moment, exposing and amplifying these fractures. From Canada to Mexico on the west coast, the reverberations of these familial faultlines became increasingly apparent, leading to a series of clashes and collisions.

Unveiling Hidden Resentments and Misunderstandings

Mindlinking acted as a truth-seeking mechanism within the familial mindspace. Deep-rooted resentments, unspoken grievances, and misunderstandings that had remained concealed for years were now brought to the forefront. The once-tolerable faultlines now cracked open, unearthing long-held frustrations and anxieties that strained the very foundation of our family bonds.

Navigating the Aftermath: Rebuilding and Reconciliation

After the initial shock of the familial faultlines crashing, it became imperative to focus on the process of rebuilding and reconciliation. The collisions brought about by the mindlinking phenomenon provided an opportunity for us to confront the underlying issues honestly, fostering open communication and deep understanding. By acknowledging and addressing these fractures head-on, our family has been able to embark on a journey of healing and growth.

Conclusion:

The unprecedented collision of the faultline within my paternal family, stretching from Canada to Mexico on the west coast, served as a stark reminder of the complexities present within familial relationships. The advent of mindlinking acted as a catalyst, amplifying existing tensions and challenging the very fabric of our bonds. However, through introspection, open communication, and a collective commitment to change, we have begun the process of rebuilding and fostering stronger connections within our family. The fractures caused by these familial faultlines remind us of the importance of nurturing relationships while embracing the transformative power of vulnerability and understanding.

[hitchell-mope]

Poor woman

[eyeorwhy]

he needs to actually calm down

can he fucking stop

[feytaline]

My Paternal Grandfathers Death Anniversary Dinner

[notokayjuslikefuckinmcr]

[wenzie76aster]

I asked one of the writers of rise this question in the recent rise Q&A, and I’m crying😭😭

[yeyinde]

Would you consider writing a poly141 version of the babytrap universe? Completely understand if it’s not to your interest to write, but I would love to see that story play out in your delicious writing style :)

ohh, absolutely. i think the best way to do it would be to have poor reader, desperate for a family of her own, and making the stupid decision to hand her resignation into Price.

and then admitting, shyly, that there's no man in your life, just a donor waiting for you to sign the papers and make the deposit for the procedure. thanking him for everything he's done, of course; but you're excited for this new chapter in your life.

He accepts it. Sure. Smiles tightly, and says, "good luck." Calls a meeting after to discuss it with the rest of the team. Closed door. A little unusual, but nothing that immediately raises your hackles. You're too busy cleaning up your desk to really pay much attention to hushed whispers in Price's office. Happy to celebrate, too, when Johnny invited you out for drinks after. Tae say goodbye properly, he said, and looking back, you should have seen through the faux sadness draped over his brow. Picked up on the giddy excitement buzzing around him as he led you to the bar, as he offered to get you drinks. Handed you an open bottle. Tipping it back for you to drink more. 

Keep goin’, doe. Drink ‘er up. 

Another one. Another. Your head swims. Kyle is there, hands warm on your waist, breath rippling across the sweat gathering on the nape of your neck. 

“C’mon, birdie. Have a shot with me.” He coos, bringing the glass to your lips, chest glued to your spine. “Can't believe you want a baby. Fuck, birdie, that's—”

Johnny murmurs something under his breath. You blamed the three glasses of whiskey sour (Price wouldn't let you have anything else) and a shot of tequila for why it sounded like,

hope it's mine—

To the left of you, Ghost snorts under his breath. Shifts in the stool that creaks, whining under his weight. You blink through fog seeping into your head, this strange, syrupy torpor that bleeds into the corners of your vision, makes everything feel muted, far away, and turned to him with a pout. 

He'd been acting strange ever since Price told him your plans. Quieter, somehow. But—

There. 

Everywhere. 

Your fixed shadow. Looming in the corners. 

You make to ask him what the hell he's doing, why he's following you around, but the words slosh out in a tangle. Incompressible.

Ghost huffs. His gloved hand lifts, falls to your throat, holding you steady with his thumb digging shallowly into your pulse. 

“Careful,” he mocks, dragging the word out like he was speaking to a misbehaving child. It bristles through you, but your tongue is thick. Liquid in your mouth. “Got a big night ahead o’you yet, pet. Try not t’hurt yourself before I get to knock you up.”

Distantly, you think you hear Gaz say something—oi, mate, maybe—but there's a shrill ringing in your ear that drowns it all out. A cotton spooling in your head. You blink—foolishly—and lean into his palm, mouth dropping in surprise. Shock. 

Horror. 

“Wha—?”

But it's too late, of course. What you thought were the comforting threads of a warm blanket spooling over your shoulders was the silken strands of a spider's web the whole time. Caught in their trap. 

And then you come to with a warm weight pressed against your back, a thick, hairy arm slung around your shoulders. Trapping you tight against a warm, broad chest.

“Want a baby, mm?” your captain coos in your ear, humid breath tickling your skin. Dampening it slightly as he leans in close, lips pressed to the shell—a warm, wet heat that makes you tremble—and adds: “fine, love. Since you want one so bad—” 

An arm lashes out of the shadows dancing around the room; through the heavy haze, the fog in your head (the last thing you remember is being offered a drink by Johnny, another by Kyle—), you struggle to make sense of what's happening around you as rough, dry fingers curl over your knee, prying your thighs apart: 

“—then we'll give it to you.”

You watch, dazed, dizzy, as cherryred knuckles slip down the valley of your spread legs, the ink on their thick fingers flexing, dancing, in the slip of pale moonlight until they curl into the hem of your panties, tugging the fabric roughly to the side. 

The sudden swell of cold air on your exposed cunt makes you gasp. Your knees jerking, trying to fold together to hide yourself, preserve some modicum of modesty, but the hand on your flesh tightens. Prevents you from moving. It keeps you open for their gaze. Lets them all gawk at the wide knuckles pressed against the seam of your pussy. Flushed in the low light. Dripping—

In the murk, someone groans—

“Shoulda told us sooner you wanted a fuckin’ baby, sweet’art. Woulda given you one sooner before y’had to go an’ do somethin’ so foolish—”

Foolish. Like paying for another man to put a baby inside of you when that privilege belongs to them. And them alone.

And really—

You should have known better.

[odinsblog]

“The great enemy of justice are those moderates who feign outrage at societal injustice, but whose outrage conveniently disappears when real change threatens their status. These moderates are more comfortable leaving unchallenged the assumed moral authority of certain institutions, traditions and practices that are the purveyors of injustice rather than confronting their own role in maintaining these institutions. The hard truth is that the comfort of the status quo is always preferable to pursuing the demands of justice.”

—MLKjr

Despite what moderates (centrists, neoliberals, etc.)—who are more devoted to order than justice—might be saying, there should be no doubt that Martin Luther King, Jr. would be on the side of the student protesters who are standing up for Palestine 🇵🇸

[mikami1992]

Jason is about to have a panic attack…

He knew that he had to finish researching and confirm those 48 hours of lost memory from last year…

but nooo… I thought I put together everything that happened during that time and left a few hours here and there with only assumptions about what happened…

and now he has the consequences in front of him… on a pair of baby seats in the middle of his living room next to a pair of diaper bags with a note…

"Emergency, take care of them for time, I'll be back

Sincerely, Danny"

and there, in those pair of seats, are 2 babies, a girl and a boy, one with blue eyes and the other reddish brown, the two children had black hair… with a white strand of hair on their heads. …

Jason isn't an idiot, he did the math…and the dates fit…so now he has to face his impending fatherhood…it's time to call Alfred….

While all this is happening Danny flies through the Infinite Realms, he now has to face the idiots who think they can challenge him for the throne.

He just hopes Ellie and Dan are okay…. Well there shouldn't be any problem, he left them with one of the strongest avenging/protecting spirits on the side of the living, plus Red Hood is known for being good with children…

He only regrets not being able to explain more in the note…