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Words from a rebel kid

I woke up today in the early morning to feed my 3-month old kid. He was resisting latching on but was also crying because he was hungry. I started looking at his movements when waiting for him to settle down. This wait started jogging my memory back when I was a kid. I was a rebel kid. If you ask my parents, they will say that “was” is an understatement. I still fight with my mom and dad on various ideas. There are always arguments on how to go about something. Now I think about it, there was always arguments/discussions from my childhood. 

It started with my questioning on the need to go to school. I hated it, of course, who does not. But I used to run from the school to my home on the first opportunity I got, considering my home was sharing a compound wall with the school in India. My first teacher was my mom’s close friend and she was ok chasing after me when I did that. Good old days. I would fight with my mom and my teacher refusing to go back to school. Most of the times, they won and sometimes I won. But ultimately, it was my parents’ perseverance that won at that time. 

When I was growing up, I would not study and fail in most subjects. I was attracted to all fiction books in my grandfather’s library and would read those books and but never text books. I realize my parents never forced me to score high marks or top the class, but rather they stood next me when I had the need to get into oration and improve my speeches. My friends from school and college know how much I love giving an extempore speech and that had become my identity. When I won competitions, I thought it was me. But now I realize, it was my parents’ confidence in me to become something that won at that time. 

As I started working, I travelled across the world for my job. There were times, when I had to pack my bags and move to 3 different countries in the same year. I knew my parents were not happy because they had plans about my marriage that I did not agree with. I fought with them and thought I had won. Now I realize, my parents’ patience with me won at that time. 

When I told them about my then-boyfriend and my now-husband initially, I was prepared to give a tough fight. That 45 days stay with my parents is a different story by itself. But there was no fight and my parents agreed for the marriage immediately. I celebrated my win. Now I realize, it was my parents’ trust in me won that time. 

Sitting here, 35 years old, I am grateful for so many things. I had choices in my life, because my parents gave them to me. I had freedom to choose what I wanted, because my parents helped me. I travelled freely where I wanted to, because my parents stood by me. I worked hard, because my parents never stopped me. I was a rebel and independent person, because my parents let me be. Now that I realized it, am I going to stop fighting or arguing with them? No way. My parents have worked hard on this :)

But now that I am on the other side of the equation, I am determined to give the best for this little person on my lap. 

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