Parents are Forever

Today was just another typical Monday. I was doing my daily mode of going through The Star Online, scrolling the cursor down to news or articles which caught my attention. As usual, I ignored news that had a honorific heading, considering them to be honorary while I'm just nobody. That's me. I don't give a damn about news that involves politics.

There was an article today with the heading, Parents Are Forever. I clicked on the link out of interest and curiosity. The first billet that hit my conscience was, 'No matter how old you are, they will never stop fussing over you.' I read on and just before I reached the finishing line, my eyes were rimmed with tears at this, 'The person I am today has everything to do with my parents.' A gush of guilt surged my scruples.

I grew up in a family where I was sheltered under the widespread wings of my parents. I am still, forasmuch as being twenty three now. Before turning into an adolescent, I went through every social milestone a child is expected to have. An example I would love to quote is separation anxiety. As a kid, I naturally always wanted my parents to be around. This was not always possible. Every time my parents leave the town for work, I'd get teary and threw a tantrum-filled goodbye knowing I wouldn't see them in a couple of days', more so when they will be gone for a week.

Situations changed when I became a teenager. I got a little rebellious. Have I told anyone of you I was excited whenever I turned a year older? I would object when others were telling me they dislike ageing and replied with an excuse that people get wiser and more experienced with life as they aged. I'm weird like this, but with a concrete reason. I wanted what all teenagers want and can never get enough of, freedom. I often thought that my parents are strict with me. In a way, my mobility is restricted whenever I don't have anyone familiar to accompany me somewhere. Going to Manipal was a breakthrough, I guess.

There were times when I argued with my mom that she's being over concerned. When I was abroad, she would call all the way from home to remind me about hydration. 'When I thirst for water, I will drink. There's no need for you to remind me about drinking more water.' That was a defense mechanism I shuddered to tell her I'm capable of taking care of myself. In order to relieve their worries, I stopped telling them about falling sick. I had all the freedom in the world and no more curfews but here’s the irony. I missed home to the extent that I chose home over traveling during the holidays. I was given the permission to travel Europe during the holidays with my friends but I returned home feeling all loved and happy.

I feel the tension from my anxious parents every now and then. Probably because I'm nearer to home and they have access to interfere with every decision I make. I took the initiative of sharing what's going in my life and reasoned with them whenever I felt right about situations. I shan't deny the fact that I'm stubborn and have the tendency to overdo certain matters which might have hurt their feelings. But all in all I was searching for a trust from them that I'm mature enough to handle responsibilities. Just like how they think I'm naive when it comes to making friends and got disappointed by one after another. Again, I would defend my mistake by excusing that this is how I should be learning, picking myself up from a fall just for the sake of a lesson worth contemplating. All I want is to trade this life for something new, holding onto what I haven't got.

I thought it felt right to be thinking that they do not trust me. But the right was wrong for they will never stop fussing over me. I was at fault to have doubted this fact. I hope to still feel small when I stand beside the ocean, taking every effort to spare a thought for them. Now that I realize, I'm the careful parents' careless daughter which is why they are there to constantly remind me.