The old age clichéd dialogue “ jab tum khud maa baap banoge, tab samjhoge” ( when you yourself become a parent, you will realize) makes much more sense now. What also makes sense is…
Your parents aren’t forever correct.
They are not perfect. They’re not always righteous. They won’t always be there when you require them.
They are sometimes dishonest.
They make mistakes – lots of them sometimes.
They brawl.
They sometimes aren’t the perfect role models.
They are difficult to deal with.
They are demanding and pushy.
They are needy.
A lot of times they’re plainly self-centered.
However at most of the times –All times infact— they’re only human.
For its only human to have all these follies.
Like most of the kids, I placed my parents on a plinth for the longest time ever.
Until I turned into a rebellious teenager.
I recall evaluating them a bit more significantly. Pointing and complaining about all their “misconducts.” Not taking their word for everything.
Having respect for them devoid of worshipping them and following everything they told me to do.
I was cynical, you could say.
But I also understood later on that they were just trying to do their best for me.
Coping up with their jobs, their own relationships, their ambitions, their dreams, and their two daughters and their education.
Parenting is no straightforward chore.
As a parent, I struggle everyday to bring up my son, in the finest manner ever, taking care of his needs, his food, his playtimes, behavior , habits, belief – everything
But just as I went through a phase where I realized my parents aren’t perfect, he will to sometime.
It’s tough when the myth splinters.
I recall the phase I began seeing my parents as just two individuals with all their wrongs.
It hurts you.
Why couldn’t they be ideal?
Why aren’t they just perfect?
And why did I have to go through a guilt trip for thinking about them like that?
They had so many hopes from me.
In turn, I had more hopes from them.
I disliked them for being who they were — thinking what was wrong with my family.
Until years later I realized there is nothing like a wrong family.
All families consist of people — and people aren’t always right – they aren’t always perfect.
The displeasure washed out.
I began understanding them — as a grown-up. An imperfect, inadequate, individual.
They were infact just like me?
Unfortunately, it is too late to let my father know about this, but my parents now are my mother and elder sister – who I look upto and think the world of
It’s been a smooth ride since then. I started connecting with them on a totally different intensity later.
I now realize that in their mind, I will forever be their 5-year-old mischievous kid.
And they will forever be my parents, advising to not do this, to do that in a better way, getting anxious about me, cheering me on my little challenges, overflowing with pride at my negligible achievements.
Well, few things will always remain the same.
But few things have changed.
I listen more often, expect less.
And try to reasonably comprehend.
I see them impartially for who they are.
I can now say “it’s ok.”
They are sure my parents. But they’re also individuals – deciphering their way about life.
Just like the rest of us.
Parents are individuals and they are not perfect.
Keep Reading!
Auteur
PS - Photograph by Michael Nichols – Tiger carrying cub, India
No comments:
Post a Comment