DO OUR PARENTS REALLY DESERVE IT ALL ?

 

I was once talking with my cousin. She is 30 years old and is not planning to conceive for at least two more years. We were talking about her plans for her child as a mother. She told me she wants to give her child all the facilities she never got as a child. All the toys she never got to play with, a future in a top English medium school and a house filled with everything a child could ever dream. I was walking with her on the same road and was wondering. What did I wish for when I was a child? 

My mother was 18 when she conceived her first child. When she came to know about her pregnancy, she wished for a girl. Why? I don't know. But it was a boy. The first boy of that generation. If you are an Indian or you know an Indian. You would comprehend how much a boy means for an Indian family. It is almost equal to winning a million-dollar lottery. My mother accepted that decision because now she was the most favoured daughter in law in the family.

After three years, she was pregnant again. And this time, it was a girl. The girl child her mother desperately wanted. After almost 23 years, I am sitting on a chair and typing this blog. 

An hour ago, I was giving an interview. I wouldn't say that it was important to me, but I am the best student of my batch, and to maintain that spot, I wanted to ace it. I took some extra time to relax. I showered to calm and found a place to sit and give my first hire-view interview. I sat and finished my interview. It went good, and I was happy till I realised that I was almost inaudible. I was inaudible because my mother was yelling at someone in the background. I felt like crying because all my input went in vain. All the preparations I did would result in nothing now because my interview got screwed. I was upset and so much that I felt like crying. I somehow managed to calm my emotions and went outside to the drawing-room. It was a mess. So, I started cleaning it. I was terribly upset, and that was visible on my face. Yet I was cleaning quietly. My brother noticed and asked, why was I quiet? My mother replied, "She always has a puffy face. What's new?" I was so much disappointed, but I kept on cleaning. I really wanted to spend some time alone, so I decided to go cycling. Honestly, I just wanted a cigarette. I went to the shop where I usually smoke. Had two cigarettes and came back.

I wouldn't say I was at peace, but I can say that I felt better. I came back and noticed that my mother was heading somewhere. I washed my hands and gargled to erase the evidence of my act and heard her babbling about the room is not clean and everything, which implicates that I am a bad daughter. I kept calm, cleaned the room and sat to write this article. I can not help but wonder. How our parents expect us to love them selflessly and how they never give a damn about our happiness!