Oil and water

I am the third among four siblings and the closest to dad. I always used to cling to him all the time. I used to work in the garden with him, used to go to the market, to most of the morning and evening walks, to all his friend's houses. In short he was the best of friends. 

During our walks to the market or during our morning or evening walks he always used to talk about the childhood pranks of himself and his friends, which I used to enjoy thoroughly.  

One day, I had a good thrashing from my mom for spending some money (without her permission) she gave me to buy grocery from the nearby grocery shop. I was very upset. In the evening dad asked me to accompany him for a walk. I followed him. He knew I was very upset. He knew that I did something wrong but he did not tell anything to me. My dad never used to scold us whenever mom used to do it. He just told me that I should not repeat it because it was not good.

Than he started narrating a story of one of his friends who did something similar to what I did. My dad's friend was a poor chap and was the naughtiest of all his friends. His mother gave him some money and asked him to buy hundred grams of mustard oil. The boy bought only fifty grams of oil and with the remaining money he bought a cigarette and smoked it along with his friends. While returning home he filled the remaining fifty grams with water. But he never knew that oil and water never mixes. He shook the bottle all the way home but once he stopped shaking, the oil and water would separate. Thus, returning home he had a wonderful thrashing. Hearing that I started laughing. What amused me more was the thought that how he did not know that water and oil does not mix.

But today I think that the story my father narrated had some other deeper meaning. I do not know if he just told me the story then or he wanted to teach me something but today it has a different meaning. Today, I feel that every relationship is like water and oil. We must keep on shaking the bottle properly so that the mixture of our relationship remains smooth. Once we stop, differences take place.

Isn't it true that as we grow we grow complicated? 

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