Category: Random Thoughts

I was the most earnest child the world had ever seen. When I started speaking, I am sure I spoke the alphabets in correct order. Following rules was necessary for me. Everything taught to me in school, including Moral Studies and Safety Rules, were unquestionable.

I was forever sincere, albeit a bit talkative; my school and college attendance was 99 to 100%. My grades were always above average. While I was not a Maths or Science wiz, I was earnest in my attempts.

Until 25+, I never had a quarrel with anyone other than my brother, with only one exception. I crossed the road after looking at both sides at a zebra crossing, wherever it existed; never got a speeding ticket; never stayed out after dark; never smoked, drank or had a pot joint since my parents won’t approve; never went to disco since I was too uptight to enjoy in a place where everyone is bumping hips; and never went to a party that had the remotest chance of going on after dark.

Also, I had no ambition.

I was the good Indian girl, and I was proud of it.

Note that I never said it was easy. We humans are social animals. We need the society with its rules to avoid turning it into a chaos, but we also need some level of independence–the right to choose not to follow some of its rules. I was a pressure cooker, building steam.

And one day, the whistle went off. Despite doing everything right, suddenly, some important people in my life started finding faults in me. They were picking my threads and pulling me apart, one sentence at a time. They were accusing me for not being perfect. I was facing abuse at the hands of some people meant to protect me.

I was in deep depression for almost two years, suicidal thoughts keeping me company.

That was when I met my husband who quickly became my best friend. He taught me the importance of not being earnest.

He taught me that skipping a class once in a while to watch a movie does not make you evil. He taught me how to jump fences to get out of the college unseen (we were not allowed out once we were inside). We would go to malls, watch movies, stuff our face with junk food and return like we had been in the library all day.

He taught me that living a little didn’t hurt anyone. It was not about breaking all the rules–only some of the not very important ones. It helped let the steam out. Suddenly I felt in control–like I had a choice and I was choosing to follow the rules, even though I didn’t like them. It made constraints bearable.

Now I cheat at games, as long as there is nothing of value involved. I laugh a lot in un-ladylike manner and I sing loudly when I can. Nobody else has to like it.

When I see my daughter, I see my old-self reflecting in her. Left to her own means, her attendance would be 100%. She would go to school through flood and fire. I make sure that she skips it on bad-weather days; and that she doesn’t feel guilty about it. I sometimes do her homework when there is too much to write and her hands hurt. I tell her to let teacher know the truth; to stand up for herself. I don’t censure her for picking up small quarrels with her classmates, as long as she doesn’t get too bitter. She doesn’t have to be nice all the time.

I remind her that she makes her own choices and she lives with it. I am not the best mother, maybe, because I let out my steam too when I feel too much pressure. It is okay for her to see me break rules and breakdown at times, knowing it okay not to be okay.

I am trying to not raise an earnest daughter, just a happy one.