A 20 Something’s Guide to Parenthood

So let me first add a disclaimer that this is a blog belonging to my emotions and situations, so I do not prefer people judging me but even if you do, do it in your brain I would say.


 

I love being proved wrong. Not because I am a pessimist, but the fact that every time I am wrong there is a lot of scope of remembering what is right for the lifetime.

I was born and brought up in a family that called loved calling themselves bounteous.  I should correct myself, because often these things back fire on me, I should say, I was brought up in a family that loved calling themselves non- conservative. I am 23 years old and I know precisely what both the terms mean. And let me tell you they are neither.

I am an Indian girl and for most of the families here, being non-conservative doesn’t mean being progressive, it means being conservative but not showing it. I don’t know whether they are in denial or something inexplicable but often they just need a catalyst to prove that unfortunately I am right.

I am 23 years old. Old enough to be called an adult; check. Old enough to cast a vote; check. Old enough to go to a pub and have a drink with my friends; check. But what I am least expected of, is to behave like one, and worse, when I expect the same from other as well, in terms of treating me and being treated in a similar way, there is often this point that after a certain age your parents behave like your friends. I don’t want that. I want my parents to be like my parents and not try to be something they are not because in an attempt to do so, they ultimately get to this point where they are neither. They are too concerned to let you go and too, so called, non- conservative just to let you stay which in turn makes them look more like a show off and makes them a hypocrite.

I may not be making any sense at all, but honestly, I don’t really care I get at max five reads in a day, so I am pretty infamous to be understood by millions.

Over the years this hypocrisy has taken a toll on me, so badly, that I am hysterical to get out of these metaphorical bars my family often tries to make my brain hallucinate, that it doesn’t exist. And above all, I am one of those unlucky people for whom every time I would say no to something would be the thing that I would need the most in my life. I have come to terms with it and I have accepted this lack of luck from the core of my heart.  Now what would that mean? You might ask.

When I was little, but then I think this is applicable for most of you even now, even a slightest thought of losing any one of my parents would make me quiver and even make me cry. But fortunately for me and unfortunately for my parents I turned out to be a pragmatic person who always wanted to consider even the worst things of life, not that I mean that pragmatic people are pessimists but it is true that one should always consider the worst case scenario, and find out ways to get out of it. I honestly tell you today, I have thought it thoroughly, what I would do if something were to happen. I know I am supposed to be careful what I wish for, but actually, I am not wishing for anything. I am just being practical and a lot of people cannot tolerate that. In fact most of us don’t even want to think about such circumstances but let me make this clear it will come to all of us for some of us sooner than the rest. We live in the ostrich society. Ostrich, because when it sees the danger and thinks it’s going to be alright by just shutting it eyes and sometimes I feel like I am the only one who has kept her eyes open to see everybody else get slaughtered.  

I am no longer that little girl who will be lost without somebody guiding me. I no longer require the exaggerated concern one would have for their young ones. I know that for every parent, no matter how old the kids are, they will always be little. But do they know that most of the time that is the only repelling factor.

Now after knowing my situation or what I feel some of you would even say (or in some cases don’t say but mean it) that you do not know but you should feel lucky that you have parents. You do not understand their value and you take them for granted, how can you be such a selfish daughter who doesn’t acknowledge the fact that her parents have given her so much and thinks that if they expect something as simple as a concern in return is unavailable from your end.

I have to tell you, in fact I am writing this so freely in my blog because I know that my parents would read it too and we already had this chat that I so feel lucky that I have parents, whatever kind they are. I am very lucky. But it’s their IDK-luck that they have a daughter like me. And honestly, even I am in this big dilemma that is it not being so attached with them, exacerbating the situation?

Let me be clear. I do not take my parents for granted. I just do not agree with some of their thoughts, at all; because over time, and because I have my own brain and intelligence, I have realized that I can process my own thoughts on the basis of what I have perceived and comprehended and I have also realized that my parents are what I have already discussed.

You might be wondering why I am telling you all this, what must have happened. So here it is, the first time I told my mother, I wanted to solo travel the world, and we ended up in a big fight. And unfortunately, I always thought that my mother knows my ambitions and wishes, but this came to me as a shock which led to me saying to her that she just like to say things for their face value, she doesn’t mean them.

I would also like to tell you that there have been similar instances with my father, and also the fact that he is a racist, casteist and now that I am spending some time at the house, which I have suddenly realized was rare earlier, have proven that our frequencies are different on so many levels that it makes me wonder if there is thing called parental incompatibility. (Or maybe I have just grown up too much and my thoughts have wandered beyond my father’s imagination.)I don’t hate my father. I hate his views, and maybe he hates mine.

But ultimately, does that mean I hate my family, my parents, no I don’t. In fact whenever it appeared to me that my parents have lost all hopes about what I might become, I just have to say that all that we have been through together, they need to know that their kids are not going to settle for anything less than we deserve. And if I cannot tell my parents how the hell I feel, who on the earth am I supposed to? If you are one of those kids who are too afraid to tell their parents what they feel, there is food for thought.

Does that make me a one of those kids who are ruthless, selfish and don’t care about their parents and their emotions. I guess not, because it is very well said that always perform your duties and don’t worry about what the results might be. As, if the duties are performed rightly, the latter is bound to happen in your favor. But the problem is what does this performing the duties have to do with parental skills. I tell you, no person on this earth, no matter how good they are with their skills in this department should be concerned, as every parent has a different child, with a different psychology so automatically no one thumb rule is applicable. I do not expect the readers to understand what I am trying to say, but what I really mean is, my parents are fulfilling their duty to be concerned about me and so, it is unequivocally my duty to share my problems and my emotions with them as that is what they care about and what they deserve to know.

Finally, All I can say is I may not be right, but over time I have learned, that your parents are not always right either. They are also humans ultimately and they also make mistakes so don’t follow them blindly. In addition to that there is only a pint of things our parents can protect us from, in this world full of gallons and variety. 

If any one of you who is reading this is a parent or about to be a parent, kindly understand and respect your children’s thought process. And please treat them of their age, and if they behave like they are grownups then behave with then accordingly, cause if you try to suppress them or their thoughts, it an insult that stays with them for a really long time. Moreover, always encourage your kids and support them on their quest for happiness, mental proximity is greater than physical one.

P.S.:  I know that the ostrich’s behavior in hostile conditions an old wives’ tale and totally untrue but it’s popular metaphor

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A Room With A View

We have a tendency to be prejudiced about a lot of things that we haven’t experienced or encountered. It’s just who we are, it is a part of our daily life.

Maybe that’s why I have always hated rain and things associated with it. I do not like rain, rainy days, dark clouds and wet weather. I said DO NOT. Make no mistake because for me not liking something doesn’t mean that I hate it. I do not like cappuccino, I hate espresso. Even if the later was the last option on the planet, I won’t consider it, and in both the cases preconception is the devil, and I do not mind changing my opinion about it, only if I experience it under proper conditions and guidance.

Maybe that’s what dragged me into persuading myself to step out of the house looking at the dark weather, or boredom, but I knew exactly where I wanted to go. The lake.

The lake is one of the most beautiful neighborhoods I’ve come across. Calm and beautiful, even though it had traffic, the density of the trees surrounding it would negate it. In my heart I’ve always envied people who lived there, esp. the ones with the view.

Moreover, it was surrounded by the park. People from all walks of life were welcome at any time of the day. Students, Joggers, couples, friends, colleagues even eunuchs, but it seemed I was the only one who came there alone but I didn’t mind. I’ve watched a movie alone, had a pizza alone and ate at a restaurant alone. “Table for one.”  It never bugged me.

It wasn’t until I started walking at the edge of the lake that I realized its enormity. I had just walked a quarter of it when I conveniently found a bench. I won’t say that the dark clouds were ascending, but they weren’t descending either. They have been there since yesterday. Like accumulating the resources before they load and blow it all out. That’s when I was flabbergasted by my yearning.

I wanted it to rain.

I couldn’t understand why, but I told myself that if it would rain, I won’t go anywhere. I will sit right here and listen to the rain hit the surface of the lake. For the first time, the thought intrigued me; I don’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

At first it was just waiting, out of hope. As time passed, my hopes became skeptical.  Soon enough, the only sound that I was listening to was the music from my iPod.

I don’t know what got into me that I decided to leave. I left the park in a hurry only to find myself in an art gallery across the street. The paintings I have to admit were stunning and yet again my preconceived notion was shattered. I was surprising myself and my brain was taking it really well.  I loved the art they had put up, though I ain’t an art person.

When I came home, I was content. I felt happy to have experienced things that I never thought I would do. The room of my mind changed its view even though there wasn’t the condition or guidance I talked about earlier. In this case, it was rain.

I have to tell you, it didn’t rain that day. But it surely did the day after, at the time of my inconvenience.  But this time, I loved it. It didn’t make me gloomy. I made myself a nice cup of coffee and heard the rain hit the pane.