Some families express their love effusively, through hugs,
kisses and tears. In some, the expression is more sober. You are conscious of the
fierce affection, but it stops with that. The expression comes out through the
words, the way certain things are handled when you are around and the small
smile every now and then that is reserved only for you.
We are the second kind, and you are my first teacher. I would always be your son even if
you disown me. My decisions would always be slow, circumspect and calm. My
tastes will always be a bit sedate. My tone will always be polite. Not because
I can’t change it but because these are traits that idols instill insidiously. Your
traits.
There are other things I aspire to be. To be responsible, to be regular and to take decisions confidently & face problems with conviction. I aspire to reach your high standards. There have been times in the past when I have felt that I have been dropped off at the deep end of the pool. But it did foster independence of thought and action, an independence that was always laced with a few shots of responsibility. I have sometimes cursed you under my breath for not taking my decisions when I faced a tough dilemma. But those were low points and I halve also cursed the cupboard in the hall and the lizard on the wall at other times.
Whether it is hero worship or genetics (or a bit of both), I have come to resemble you in a lot of ways. It gives me great joy when I realise accidentally that some of actions are very similar to yours. Though, the grip and the general writing style resembles that of mom’s, the ‘S’ on note I had scribbled the other day had an uncanny resemblance to my your ‘S’. That made my day. I had this small lingering smile for the next ten min.
Trust grows over time. And with trust comes confidence. Once
I had your trust and knew you that you were happy with my actions, I was confident I was making sensible decisions. I also knew that my thought
process didn’t cross the imaginary lines of moral propriety. Unfortunately, independence of thought breeds opinions. As I
grew up, I had my own take on the things around me, either backed by logic or
by gut. I also knew that the core values carved in me through years of parental
tutelage, would still guide me on my decisions subconsciously. It still does stand me in good stead
when in doubt. But, when a decision is questioned - A decision that seems so
easy on the surface, a decision so organic with the ethics that I have imbibed - it threatens to unhinge me. I lose my identity.
I have been brought up to be polite. I have been brought up
to respect people. I have been taught not to discriminate. I have been taught
to love; to be compassionate. I have been taught not to cry and throw a tantrum
when rebutted but stand up and argue with my head than my heart. Are these
worthless? Aren’t they absolute? Are they valid only conditionally? If yes, I
didn’t know about this then. Aren’t we supposed to be consistent with who we
are? Isn’t integrity a good thing? I don’t know.
The heart did take over this time. Once the heart takes over
there is no control over your actions. You express it earnestly. Emotions are in its purest form(whatever that means) when it is straight from the heart. I remember this story mom narrates about how
you got me a folding cot because I wanted one. She also continued with some scorn, at the speed with which it was bought home because I had asked for it, without
heeding her advice. That is love. That is all heart. That is me, now. I am just
older and I happen to love someone else as much as I love the both of you. But,
I let myself go only when the mind was ok with it. I knew then, as now, that I
wasn’t crossing any lines of impropriety with my decision.
I am not fighting you now, I am not your enemy, I am just
you, in a different time and at a different age. I am someone who has grown up
with access to better things. It is a flip of a coin they say, this privilege.
I am always thankful to you for that and always been proud of what you have
managed to provide for me. But this is not a market. I don’t owe you anything.
My love for you doesn’t have a cost. It exists, like yours for me. That doesn’t
give you the right to my life. This is not arrogance. This is just me being assertive,
something you taught me to be, and something that makes me who I am. By denying
me this happiness, you are shaking the foundation of what you have built.
Please, I beg of you, please, let me go. I will be ok, I know I will, you know
I will be too.
Maybe I’m wrong. But let me learn for myself; find the world
out for myself, like you always have. I am confident now and am better armed. I
will be ok.
Love you,
son.
