Here`s toMom & Dad..

I never really write about my family – my folks back home, my inlaws or the cute little devils in the family. It’s a conscious decision not to write about family. Because most of them aren’t happy about being discussed on a public forum. I don’t necessarily see the logic in this statement, as I don’t in most others that they make. But like always(or mostly) I have reconciled to not writing about family.
Today,however, happens to be a special day. So I shall break the unwritten rule for once.

Sometime back, I read this letter written by a six year old.
“Dear God,” she wrote..
I bet it is very hard for you to love all of everybody in the whole world at all times. There are only five people in my family and I can never do it.
-Nan
I was astounded by the truth in this simple statement.
I wish I could say that I`m very happy with where I am, in the relationship with my folks back home. But I cant.
Because I`m not.
But I can say this much.
I`m very happy with where they are, in their relationship with each other.
My Mom and Dad, by chronology, have completed 35 years of togetherness today. By all other standards, it’s an eternity lived over and over again.

For a change, Dad sounded animated on the phone today.
“Happy Anniversary Baba! 35 years huh?!!”
“Thank you, thank you!” he beamed, “ Yes,35 years with Mom!”
“Yeah..Hats Off!! A Standing Ovation to you”
“Yeah yeah, join the kids and make fun of me,” Ma shouted somewhere in the background, amidst a thunderous roar of laughter from Dad,that is still resounding in my ears.
The happiness was palpable through the phone line.
My relationship with them has never been a breezy walk by the lake on a warm summer afternoon. Infact it has been more like an urgent sprint across slushy, sliperry terrains in a raging snowstorm. But it has vastly improved over the years, although I guess I`ll forever have my differences.
Oh they have been around to help me pick up the pieces when my world was falling apart. They taught me time and again,to recognize the slow,calculated circling of an eagle before it swooped down on me with extended talons.
They religiously repeated those lessons through the years and yet I never learnt.
They were disappointed. Disgusted. Even angry.
But They were there all the same. They never gave up on me.
I`ve shouted abuses(yes!Unbelievable as it sounds), thrown sickeningly horrific tantrums and locked myself up in the room. I`ve spent hours planning an escape.
I`ve nursed grudges forever. I`ve blamed them for who I have become.I`ve spent my life finding faults with them. I`ve hated them for the negativity I see in them.
Never an open arm and or a warm hug. Never a word of love or appreciation. And yet, I find comfort in their constant presence. I feel reassured, knowing they are the only people in the world who shall accept me unconditionally. Whether I`m good or very very bad, I shall not be abandoned. I shall always be theirs. To love or to hate. But I shall be theirs. Which is more than what I can say for any other relationship that I share.
I see them after all these years. Time having left unmistakable prints on their physique, while their minds and hearts continue to be startlingly fresh.
And I feel like talking to them. You know, I never really had an adult conversation with them ever.
“You guys could have done better. A lot better,” I`d say.
“ But thank you for trying atleast.
I know you gave up the comforts of your own lives, so we(my sister and me) could live out our dreams. Thank you for all of that.
(But really, did it matter so much if I lost three water-bottles in a row, in school? Or that I got 15 instead of 18 in a Maths test? Could it not have been overlooked?)
Do I wish you were better/stronger/ warmer/friendlier people? I guess.
But I wouldn’t ever want to trade places with anyone else.
I wouldn’t ever give up on you. Really I wouldnt.
Because you never gave up on me.”