The importance of being non-judgemental
I might as well write something while I wallow in sorrow:)
Marked personal.Again,I don't mind people reading.Not so sad.It's your call,Reader.
My mother and father,in terms of their personalities,are placed at extreme opposites of the spectrum.My dad seems extremely emotionless and cold,while my Mom is overtly emotional and impulsive.My dad is short-tempered while my Mom never loses hers.My Dad is highly impatient and my Mom is the epitome of patience.The list goes on and on.Ideally,you'd expect me to be the perfect combination of the two,having inherited both of their qualities.Ah,if only natural selection were that simple:P--Darwin wouldn't have written Origin of Species.I am not the balance between them--instead I seem to have both sets of traits in me.Depending on the circumstance,one of them dominates.This almost makes me sound like I'm bipolar:P
To be fair to them,they both also have a lot in common.For instance,they're both workaholics.Used to be bookworms.Don't have friends.Don't attend functions.Live on the barest of necessities.Believe that being humble is the most important virtue for any human being.Also,to be fair to me,I have inherited some genes that belong to neither of them.My love for music for one.
Anyway,getting back to my story,I came home this evening and was having dinner when my Dad walked in.How's Mom? I ask. You know her.One phone call and she starts weeping rivers of tears.
He says with a sneering smile.My temper spikes up like a sky-high impulse.How can he be so callous?Doesn't he feel a thing?Not even the slightest sliver of emotion?Not even empathy?
In the blind haze of anger,all I want to do is make him feel that pain.What if it was your sibling instead? I strike where it's bound to hurt.I wouldn't weep a single tear.What cannot be cured must be endured.You always see if there's anything to do to improve the situation.If there isn't,end of story.He says stoically.This only serves to stoke my anger.While I'm normally a very cold person,I happen to be vulnerable right now.It hurts that he cannot understand me,much less sympathize.In a way,we are always harsh on our parents 'coz we expect them to live up to the highest ideals possible.
What if it were me?If I were dying of cancer?Would you just walk away dry-eyed,because there was nothing to be done? This time,my arrow finds its mark.I can see it in the movement of his Adam's apple as he swallows in uncertainty.But it's only the slightest hesitation.Then,I shall try my best to cure you.Beyond that,there is nothing I can do.If I believed in a God,I would pray.What's the point of crying?He's stubborn in his stance.For a moment, I want to lash out in anger.
Then,the other side of my personality takes over.This is my Mom's side,the angelic part:P He's lying and you both know it.No one can be that cold.I know this with all my heart.But I cannot let this go.I need to make him understand what my Mom feels.
Paa,when I was young..around 6..I'd been to granny's place in Coimbatore...She hated me...Suba took me out for an entire day just to make me happy.It's really hard to tell him this.He has no idea of what this day meant to me,not even my Mom does.We don't talk about these things.My eyes are already covered in a sheen of tears as the pain courses through like fresh agony.
I cannot forget that.I still remember it like yesterday.And it hurts that she's going away.That's why it's okay for me to cry.You're right--there's nothing to be done.But that is precisely why I cry.
He pauses at the door awkwardly and I brace myself for another bout of harshness that will render my words useless.
Then you have a right to weep...There was a widow in Mysore....I went to get her signature....When she passed away,I wept in deep sorrow. Wait,what?I didn't get anything beyond the first part.
When I was 18,my parents didn't have money to pay for my bachelors' degree.They sent me off to a distant relative's house to get her signature stating that I was an orphan and that she was my legal guardian.If she did this,I would get a merit-means scholarship and my entire expenditure would be covered by it.
I went to her house in trepidation,not knowing how to explain my situation to a woman I'd never met.She lived in a humble dwelling all alone,suffering from a plethora of diseases.I told her my problem and she gladly signed the document without a single protest.
Channagi odhko.Bengalorige hogu. Study well.Go to Bangalore.
Sita,nimma upkaarana yavatthu mariyalla. I will never forget your kindness all my life.
Adhella yenu illa hogappa.Coffee kudithiya? Don't make it such a big deal.Will you have coffee?
I refused not wanting to burden an already ailing woman.She nevertheless made me coffee.She patted me on the back and sent me off,without even acknowledging the favor.
Three years later,in Bangalore,I heard that she passed away.I was still studying and didn't even have the money to go to Mysore for her funeral.But the sorrow I felt was unparalleled.I wept for her.For the woman who gave me so much and asked for nothing in return.Not even acknowledgement.
I imagine my Dad,barely 18,having to go to a stranger's house and ask her for such a favor.My Dad who now has four degrees--a bachelors in physics,a bachelors in commerce,a bachelors in law and is a practising chartered accountant--had to struggle to such an extent just to fund his own education.My eyes instantly fill up.I can barely imagine how he felt.I never knew this.Most of his life is a mystery to me.I only know the bits that he tells me when he opens up those thick doors for a tiny sliver of light to pour in.I believe that I mean a lot to him,for I'm fairly sure that no one has ever heard these stories from his life.
This is only one isolated incident I'm hearing of.How many other things exist that have made him what he is today?I shall probably never know.Who am I to judge him? If I were given his life,I might not even have had the strength to go through it.
If people are a particular way,it is primarily because of the situations they have been put in. If they seem too cold,it is because their emotions have been overwrought to the point where they decide they're better off without them.We're all too quick in judging people.But I urge you,Dear Reader,be a little kind the next time you feel the urge to label someone as cruel,emotionless or vile.You never know their back stories.
Yes,so you know what it means to feel a connection to someone.Similarly,I feel for Suba.What Ammi feels is much more deep-rooted.You should not frown on the crying,for it is the only outlet to such potent sorrow.It is the tendency of human beings to get attached to people,especially to those who help you in your tough times.When you spend two decades of your life--all the happy times and sad ones--with someone,that becomes part of your identity.You can never erase those memories.These peope become a part of you.It's only natural to cry for them.
Why do you think we have lacrymal glands? I make light of the situation,for my speech has become too sermon-like:P
He smiles at me before walking away.He understood.I got across my point without ending up in blows:)
P.S:I love my parents very much,but I don't entirely like them.I'm sure this part isn't going to make sense to most people:P But when you get the good and bad parts of someone,you can never be at peace with them.There are times when you will inevitably look in the mirror and not like what you see.You know where you got that from:P
Since I also have in me opposite traits co-existing,my entire life is a struggle to find a suitable balance between the bipolar opposites:D
For instance,I have been struggling to find the line where emotion meets reason and stand at that exact spot.It's a very fine line to tread:) I think I have made enough progress in this direction: from not acknowledging my emotions to wanting to run away from them to finally accepting the fact that they exist.I still don't know how to deal with them though:p.Other than writing,that is!
On the other hand,I'm lucky enough to have genes that allow me great flexibility of choice unlike others of a more homogeneous genetic material.:D Although the nature-nurture debate is always open,nature is slightly dominant is what I feel. Even though nurture can affect you,factors like how much it'll affect you and how you'll react are predetermined by your nature.Which means that nurture can only have an impact that your nature lets it have. :)
Before this turns into a debate over genes,let me stop.Moral of the story:P Be kind.Be patient.Give others a long rope.If they go ahead and hang themselves,it's not your fault anyway.The point is,you might see a facet of their personality that you've never known before.After that,your perspective will undergo a radical change.
Give people that chance.They deserve it.So do you:)
Marked personal.Again,I don't mind people reading.Not so sad.It's your call,Reader.
My mother and father,in terms of their personalities,are placed at extreme opposites of the spectrum.My dad seems extremely emotionless and cold,while my Mom is overtly emotional and impulsive.My dad is short-tempered while my Mom never loses hers.My Dad is highly impatient and my Mom is the epitome of patience.The list goes on and on.Ideally,you'd expect me to be the perfect combination of the two,having inherited both of their qualities.Ah,if only natural selection were that simple:P--Darwin wouldn't have written Origin of Species.I am not the balance between them--instead I seem to have both sets of traits in me.Depending on the circumstance,one of them dominates.This almost makes me sound like I'm bipolar:P
To be fair to them,they both also have a lot in common.For instance,they're both workaholics.Used to be bookworms.Don't have friends.Don't attend functions.Live on the barest of necessities.Believe that being humble is the most important virtue for any human being.Also,to be fair to me,I have inherited some genes that belong to neither of them.My love for music for one.
Anyway,getting back to my story,I came home this evening and was having dinner when my Dad walked in.How's Mom? I ask. You know her.One phone call and she starts weeping rivers of tears.
He says with a sneering smile.My temper spikes up like a sky-high impulse.How can he be so callous?Doesn't he feel a thing?Not even the slightest sliver of emotion?Not even empathy?
In the blind haze of anger,all I want to do is make him feel that pain.What if it was your sibling instead? I strike where it's bound to hurt.I wouldn't weep a single tear.What cannot be cured must be endured.You always see if there's anything to do to improve the situation.If there isn't,end of story.He says stoically.This only serves to stoke my anger.While I'm normally a very cold person,I happen to be vulnerable right now.It hurts that he cannot understand me,much less sympathize.In a way,we are always harsh on our parents 'coz we expect them to live up to the highest ideals possible.
What if it were me?If I were dying of cancer?Would you just walk away dry-eyed,because there was nothing to be done? This time,my arrow finds its mark.I can see it in the movement of his Adam's apple as he swallows in uncertainty.But it's only the slightest hesitation.Then,I shall try my best to cure you.Beyond that,there is nothing I can do.If I believed in a God,I would pray.What's the point of crying?He's stubborn in his stance.For a moment, I want to lash out in anger.
Then,the other side of my personality takes over.This is my Mom's side,the angelic part:P He's lying and you both know it.No one can be that cold.I know this with all my heart.But I cannot let this go.I need to make him understand what my Mom feels.
Paa,when I was young..around 6..I'd been to granny's place in Coimbatore...She hated me...Suba took me out for an entire day just to make me happy.It's really hard to tell him this.He has no idea of what this day meant to me,not even my Mom does.We don't talk about these things.My eyes are already covered in a sheen of tears as the pain courses through like fresh agony.
I cannot forget that.I still remember it like yesterday.And it hurts that she's going away.That's why it's okay for me to cry.You're right--there's nothing to be done.But that is precisely why I cry.
He pauses at the door awkwardly and I brace myself for another bout of harshness that will render my words useless.
Then you have a right to weep...There was a widow in Mysore....I went to get her signature....When she passed away,I wept in deep sorrow. Wait,what?I didn't get anything beyond the first part.
When I was 18,my parents didn't have money to pay for my bachelors' degree.They sent me off to a distant relative's house to get her signature stating that I was an orphan and that she was my legal guardian.If she did this,I would get a merit-means scholarship and my entire expenditure would be covered by it.
I went to her house in trepidation,not knowing how to explain my situation to a woman I'd never met.She lived in a humble dwelling all alone,suffering from a plethora of diseases.I told her my problem and she gladly signed the document without a single protest.
Channagi odhko.Bengalorige hogu. Study well.Go to Bangalore.
Sita,nimma upkaarana yavatthu mariyalla. I will never forget your kindness all my life.
Adhella yenu illa hogappa.Coffee kudithiya? Don't make it such a big deal.Will you have coffee?
I refused not wanting to burden an already ailing woman.She nevertheless made me coffee.She patted me on the back and sent me off,without even acknowledging the favor.
Three years later,in Bangalore,I heard that she passed away.I was still studying and didn't even have the money to go to Mysore for her funeral.But the sorrow I felt was unparalleled.I wept for her.For the woman who gave me so much and asked for nothing in return.Not even acknowledgement.
I imagine my Dad,barely 18,having to go to a stranger's house and ask her for such a favor.My Dad who now has four degrees--a bachelors in physics,a bachelors in commerce,a bachelors in law and is a practising chartered accountant--had to struggle to such an extent just to fund his own education.My eyes instantly fill up.I can barely imagine how he felt.I never knew this.Most of his life is a mystery to me.I only know the bits that he tells me when he opens up those thick doors for a tiny sliver of light to pour in.I believe that I mean a lot to him,for I'm fairly sure that no one has ever heard these stories from his life.
This is only one isolated incident I'm hearing of.How many other things exist that have made him what he is today?I shall probably never know.Who am I to judge him? If I were given his life,I might not even have had the strength to go through it.
If people are a particular way,it is primarily because of the situations they have been put in. If they seem too cold,it is because their emotions have been overwrought to the point where they decide they're better off without them.We're all too quick in judging people.But I urge you,Dear Reader,be a little kind the next time you feel the urge to label someone as cruel,emotionless or vile.You never know their back stories.
Yes,so you know what it means to feel a connection to someone.Similarly,I feel for Suba.What Ammi feels is much more deep-rooted.You should not frown on the crying,for it is the only outlet to such potent sorrow.It is the tendency of human beings to get attached to people,especially to those who help you in your tough times.When you spend two decades of your life--all the happy times and sad ones--with someone,that becomes part of your identity.You can never erase those memories.These peope become a part of you.It's only natural to cry for them.
Why do you think we have lacrymal glands? I make light of the situation,for my speech has become too sermon-like:P
He smiles at me before walking away.He understood.I got across my point without ending up in blows:)
P.S:I love my parents very much,but I don't entirely like them.I'm sure this part isn't going to make sense to most people:P But when you get the good and bad parts of someone,you can never be at peace with them.There are times when you will inevitably look in the mirror and not like what you see.You know where you got that from:P
Since I also have in me opposite traits co-existing,my entire life is a struggle to find a suitable balance between the bipolar opposites:D
For instance,I have been struggling to find the line where emotion meets reason and stand at that exact spot.It's a very fine line to tread:) I think I have made enough progress in this direction: from not acknowledging my emotions to wanting to run away from them to finally accepting the fact that they exist.I still don't know how to deal with them though:p.Other than writing,that is!
On the other hand,I'm lucky enough to have genes that allow me great flexibility of choice unlike others of a more homogeneous genetic material.:D Although the nature-nurture debate is always open,nature is slightly dominant is what I feel. Even though nurture can affect you,factors like how much it'll affect you and how you'll react are predetermined by your nature.Which means that nurture can only have an impact that your nature lets it have. :)
Before this turns into a debate over genes,let me stop.Moral of the story:P Be kind.Be patient.Give others a long rope.If they go ahead and hang themselves,it's not your fault anyway.The point is,you might see a facet of their personality that you've never known before.After that,your perspective will undergo a radical change.
Give people that chance.They deserve it.So do you:)
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