There’s this amazing biryani place in Pune called Blue Nile in Camp. (If you’ve been to the city and if you’re crazy about chicken, then you’ve surely heard of this place!) Initially, they had these silly, cute posters about chickens inviting people to eat them at BN, but now they have been replaced by family and love quotes. My favorite amongst them is : The best gift a father can give his children is to love their mother.
It’s terrible growing up in a family where the parents keep bickering and fighting with each other. I wonder how joint families in old times stayed together in peace and harmony, whereas now even nuclear families have a tough time trying to strike a balance. My experience and perception about these incidents has led me into drawing a few conclusions...
1. The dad should live up to the tag of “head of the family” by being successful, respectable and responsible
2. The mum ought to be nurturing, tolerant and the bridge between the kids and dad in case of tiffs and differing opinions
3. The kids need to be obedient and sensible
Vary any aspect of this equation, and there’s chaos. For eg. The kids won’t be obedient if the dad ain’t responsible... And the end result – the home ceases to be a sanctuary for those who live in it. It isn’t the haven that family members wish to return to when they want to be content and at peace. It’s ok for the elders as they can isolate the hurt and anger, and continue to live on.
But for the young kids, it’s the obliteration of their happiness and security. Their early days are replete with memories of pain and fear; their psychological development hindered by the yells and accusations that their childhood idols hurled at each other. So, if you’re stuck in a marriage gone wrong, or a relation turned sour, don’t fight in front of the kids. You’re ruining their future, and you’re creating memoirs that they’ll carry with them forever. Recollections that will affect their growth – mental, physical and psychological – and will shape their relations and cognitions. This influence on their lives cannot be changed or forgotten. And not just the fights, it’s also about PDA (public display of affection). Spare them the embarrassment and disgust.
As kids we never think of our parents being involved romantically or sexually. And it can be quite repulsive and sordid when one learns about the birds and bees and how they came together for us to be born. (Hell, I still find it filthy when I imagine my conception). Topic over.
Have you seen the muti-starrer Bollywood film Life in a Metro? It shows several relationships and how they all come together in a perfect web of life. Did a few look too extreme? Well, it wasn’t far from real life. Truth is stranger than fiction, and much much more ghastly. Two people love each other, but can’t be together for life (no, I’m not talking just about homosexuals). Saas-bahu incompatibilities and frustrations. A girl is sleeping with 3 guys at a time (one-by-one, I mean) and everybody knows that. A man on the verge of retirement has failed in business, and is not respected or wanted. An old, childless couple rediscover their togetherness and start enjoying life, even as they carry on arguments over paltry stuff. Life is sucha rainbow... And the sorrows most evident...
Too much fodder for the day. So leme end on a poetic note poignant and special...
You are by my side, why do I feel lonely then?
Why do those colorful pastures appear so barren?
Fate crossed our paths, our destinies became one,
Together we shed tears, together we spent times fun.
You were my soul-mate, the shadow that stuck to me,
You were the air I breathe, you were the sky I see.
Mind-reading was an art we mastered over time,
We loved and we fought, for no reason or rhyme.
Days became weeks, and weeks turned to months,
Wooing was passé, amusing chases became hunts.
My twin soul then, now my arch-rival,
We forgot the love and need, so pure and primal.
It is still alive, I can feel it too,
But for the magic to revisit, I wonder what to do.
Both need the other, neither’s to blame,
Yet the fact remains, nothing is the same.
My dearest wish now, for the moments gone cold,
Is to heat and rid the rust, and unravel the gold.
I’m living in pursuit of this mighty, single dream,
The win’s gona be mutual, the loss extreme...