We drove over the rugged dirt road through the Derry Clare Tea Estate, passing by lush tea bushes, humble shanty homes belonging to estate workers, and children walking along the edges of the main tracked road, holding hands - many barefoot, many smiling. Women carried buckets of water, and hung soaked linens from one edge of a home to another. After many minutes of gazing in wonder, and trying to capture every detail, I sat back in my car seat.
I couldn’t believe that this very tea estate is where my dad was born. His grandfather had been a government clerk on the estate. An estate ruled by the British at the time, tucked away from the rest of the world, and of primitive resources. I envisioned my dad as a young boy, walking as these children did along the side of the road, barefoot.
I then thought about the probability that a boy born on a remote tea estate on the island of Sri Lanka could one day find a way to Los Angeles, California and make a fulfilling life not only for himself, but for an entire generation. The decision to come to America, and the persistence to make it happen in the early 70s is one of the many gifts my dad gave my brother and I.
My dad sheltered us from a lot of the details of the civil war conflict that took place in Sri Lanka. I always knew my dad was part of the minority group in the country, called Tamils and that at one point his childhood home had been burned down in the riots - destroying most childhood photos and momentos. My dad was the eldest of five siblings, bearing a lot of responsibility. I knew that he came to America to pursue a graduate degree and a better life, but I didn’t understand the desperate nature of the political climate in the country during the time. Maybe I didn’t inquire more because it might hurt to know the truth and I knew that underneath any kind of escape since there is often pain. I recently asked him why he didn’t reveal some of the details of the war and his own emotions around it when I was little, and he said,
“You know, I didn’t want you and your brother to ever be burdened with the emotions of the war growing up. I knew when you were old enough and interested, you’d inquire - but I wanted your childhood to be happy, light, and full of possibility.”
That’s the second gift of many that my dad gave me... An unburdened head and heart to pursue my own dreams without any kind of limitation.
The only reason I can make Tea Drops a reality is because I was afforded the opportunity, circumstances, and resources cultivated by my parents long before I was even born. I had the ability to dream, to play, to pursue my own passions without any obligation or guilt. That’s one of the greatest gifts (beyond love) that you can give a child.
And so on this day, I honor my amazing dad and all fathers who heavily sacrifice in order for their children to dream big. Happy Father’s Day!
XO,
Sashee Chandran
