Over the last three days, I have been surprised. Even shocked, to some extent. I write, so I am. And hence I will discuss those discoveries, post-surprise. And why should you be listening? Well, don't. A friend has enlightened me. I am only articulating my perception, which to your jurisdiction, may absolutely stand as a heap of rubbish.
The Trope of Parenthood: Who am I to be lecturing on a pious subject as this, that topic which has halo'd jewels attached to its crown. In that case, I tell myself, who am I to be lecturing on standard Shakespearean tragedies, or for that matter, the most subjective thing called 'art' -- in whichever form.
To be specific, allow me to narrow down the trope -- the idea of most Indian parenting. How and why do parents give birth? My knowledge says, a) as a result of mutual, sexual desire, or, b) as a compelling societal pressure to continue a lineage. Before you shout at me, I bring back to your attention the use of the word "most". It did not necessarily mean you, or, rule out me. Good, if you decided to bring a life to this world. If you did, and those who conformed to the previous two categories, I have a question. Did you give birth without any expectation? I will help you here on what are expectations: "My son will be a doctor", "I will play with my daughter and make her wear short skirts, which I could not", "My son will become an engineer, just like us", "My daughter will have a doctorate degree", and hardly rarely, "My children will look after me". My first objection is to the lack of "us", if it is a biological, or mutually decided upon, adopted child. If you are a single parent, "my" suits perfectly well. These, thus, being expectations, you are bringing up a child, with the other part of bargain in mind -- to be looked after, when you age. And when you aren't, you are disappointed, heart-broken and put up a face that bravely says, "we could not parent well enough". That is, if the child is born of love and desire. What about the life which came upon as an exercise of power? Unconcerned souls, born out of sheer one-manship? Did they ask to embrace this world? Did they ask to be born? Have you loved your child enough to understand that s/he may have preferences which your world does not approve? He may wish to stitch his shirt, tie his hair and sleep beside a man, while she may love leather-jacketed trips, on a motorcycle? She may wish to sleep with her uncle, cousin, boyfriend, girlfriend, or even a stranger, on that solo uphill travel. Will you be able to take it all in -- your child's opinion? Teaching will definitely be yours. But will you allow the child to further, grow branches out of your tree of knowledge? Risk is, it might stand out -- as ugly, or too beautiful.
Why, will you be very happy if you daughter was the country's champion sports person, but failed her marriage? Or, if your son, lost his life for the nation. Will you not regret pushing him to a noble profession? Your child, the child, is an entirely different entity, a being who may, scientifically carry your chromosomes, not necessarily your choice.
The child does owe you respect, because you are responsible for the upbringing.
The Trope of Defence: Is winning worth the fear? Can political boundaries stop global warming and more earthquakes? Invent and indulge, not in the name of nation, or religion please. I rest my case.
How can peace harm?
The Trope of Choice: It is difficult to even imagine that I will contest to write something on choice. We are so conditioned to doing things the naturalized way of doing, that we aren't even aware if we can think otherwise. I mean, I have nothing against the legal system personally, but really, who the hell is an institution which empowers its authority over my choice? I was taken aback when I came to know that suicide and euthanasia are criminal offences. Forget the terms, come to the basics -- my life. I may choose to do away with it. Now, whether that labels me as a coward, selfish, escapist or foolish, really does not matter. Where is the legal system when I am caught on the wrong side of an accident and my manners have cost me a pocket-full?
If I have the right to live life, I have one to decide whether I wish to continue living or not.
I have never been fond of surprises. The probable dismay is not worth the glory. It is funny how the word 'trope', by the end of this piece, reads like 'trap'. Those who read till here, I wish to sign off with my knowledge of self, which owes a revelation to you. First, I am a writer. Second, an aesthetist. And finally, a human -- different only from the wild, because we are blessed with reasoning and language.
Well, are we thinking enough and articulating enough?
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