Stepping into my son's shoes

No, I am not misquoting the traditional saying, ‘Son stepping into father’s shoes’. I think those days of children stepping into their father’s profession are over, to give validity to the old idiom. I know that parents can no longer decide or insist on passing on their profession or career to their children. 

Along with the trends and choices of professions or careers, the youngster’s method of shopping has changed radically too. They no longer take the trouble of going to several shops, comparing, and making their choice. They sit, or rather lie down, browse the options on the internet, and order with a click.

The merchandise arrives at their doors (at their feet in this case) in practically no time. Payment is settled by the cards or through their mobile, with QR mode, from their account or parents. What surprised me more was that children, very unlike adults, do not hesitate to return the goods to the supplier, expressing dissatisfaction on one ground or another and claiming exchanges or refunds. 

My son, who visits us periodically from New York, is no exception to this adoption, if not addiction, of shopping, which he indulges in quite naturally. On his last visit, he ordered a pair of soft canvas walking shoes. When the shoes arrived, he looked at them, tried them on, and said he did not like the shape of the toe or the colour and wanted to return them. I was around, looking at the shoes. I tried it on, and it fitted rather well, with no discomfort.

I did not mind or care about its colour. I expressed it loud enough for him to hear. So, without much thought, he said, “You can have it if you want.“ That is how that pair of shoes now occupies my part of the shoe rack. I wear it sometimes when I go for a walk. 

After this shoe shopping episode, it was time for my son to return to New York. He was in the process of packing, with me observing casually. He was folding a good-looking kurtha to be put into his suitcase. He suddenly stopped and looked at me and said, “I cannot wear this often in NY, so why don’t you take it as it seems to fit you alright?” Without waiting for my answer, he put it on my clothes stand. Now I have one more Kurtha to adorn my wardrobe. 

A few days ago, with the support and guidance of my daughter, I hesitantly ventured to browse and successfully ordered online a pair of soft leather, comfortable casuals, which I generally prefer. I, a nonagenarian, am quite proud of my first steps into the world of technology.

So, my friends, now it is not the father giving things to his children, but the other way around.