N number of years and counting…

There are million of topics to cover. Still, I’ve decided to write about parents. The only visible god to me. It has something to do with recent “developments” around me. We live our life in a way that enamors millions of stories, some of them true and some of them not. But if we look into our past, the very idea of a story is mostly passed on to us by our parents, and in my part of the world, it’s undoubtedly parents.

My parents celebrated their Nth (I don’t know the number) year of marriage. I’m purposefully not using ‘wedding’ here. Wedding happens every day but marriage takes time. They got married on (I don’t know this either) and it’s been a long journey for them. For a pessimist like me who doesn’t conform to societal norms which sadly includes marriage too, I find them “bliss” overwhelmingly inspiring!

I’m not being judgemental here but we Indians tend to fight against all absurdity of individual space and try our best to make our marriage a success, unlike in the West. My parents were no different I guess. They always had their altercations; even on the smallest of issues like the taste of salt in food or the way mom dressed a child. They could argue on the stupidest of event. As a different generation, the question still keeps in my head…How could you get along with a person as a spouse for such long years? I do admit that years are not a record or anything but from the way I see it, it’s indeed a record considering how different my mom and dad are from each other.

They has always been a fighter. Both wouldn’t give up easily and was not an emotional fool, so to say. Being educated, they kept injecting their pedagogy moral values which make me the kind of person I’m today. Some I accepts. Some I don’t and i’m glad this part they completely understands. Very well. Ain’t consider myself daddy’s little girl/princess or mumma’s little angel ever. Never. I’m more than that for them ‘a daughter’. I define them. They define me. We define each other. I hate them. I love them. I more hate them. I more love them. Yes, this how it goes. More than anything or just needless to say we know ourselves best. Mom can truly beat Sherlock Holmes when it comes to any kind of study in anyone’s mind. On the contrary, dad is a softie with a very generous (mysterious) heart and a deeper pocket. For him, i’ve more respect, dislike, kind of love for this man in this world no matter what. I still can’t talk with them with louder, angrier, shouter voice. Actually that situation didn’t happened in life. Still. He always been a good human being and whole of chembur can vouch for that! But I would say, out of these two difficult characters, both who made their marriage work, all because of their adaptability to situations. As an Indian nation, thing is so weird I’m writing this as their own daughter.

I like joking that my parents were happy for a long time… and then they got married to each other. I must say, I have worst fear loosing them (and loved ones) and I don’t want to face that ever. But at the back of my mind I see how happy they are together today, with all of us under one roof. (I may sounds typical in this but it sounds so good to me) He still calls her with her nick name and that sounds beautiful during their never ending arguments. Every morning, they go out together and come back debating on trivial topics but there’s an undeniable cuteness to it. I hate idiotic TV soaps but my parents are a huge fan and that doesn’t help my case either! Thanks to my goodness they don’t watch any kind of sanskar shows till now! I completely lose my all arguments with them about “how and what to watch on TV” here. They realize the fact they are not young anymore and they need each other more than ever.

For me, of course, they don’t like my apathy towards “responsibilities” nor do they like my being more sincere on virtual world than in real, but they adjust and that’s been the key to their more than a couple of decades marriage run!

Being in modern typical family, We had lunch and dinner together which is a rarity considering the clash of timing on usual days. I didn’t trudge along this time. In fact, I participated and enjoyed too. It was a real celebration. I’ve never been this expressive with words as long as my memory goes.

P.S.: This is what something happen when one can’t sleep with eyes open. Or should I say cannot concentrate on sleeping! If you are reading this tripe, please forgive me for being childish and naive. Honestly, I sympathize with your loss of time. Even right now, I’m awake. What more I can say!

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