Ten minutes past ten PM, my phone was singing non-chalantuously at around 3 to 5 "ti-ding"s per minute as I was chatting with an eighth class friend of mine. Ten years of friendship, the next day was her birthday and my wishes were heart-warming. A smile on my ever-serious face was very obvious given the fact that I had a crush on her nine years ago. My mom quickly got pricked from the mother-in-law soaps she was watching to focus on my texting. She asked me, "who was it?" I answered it as plainly, "Vivek." By the time I put my fears back and opened my phone, she was gone. Half past ten and she would sign off more punctually than I would do at my office, and I hate my office.
Nothing has changed in the past ten years. I still lie to my parents about things as simple as a friend's birthday. I'm used to it. I'm used to the system that sees boy-girl friendships to be out of the box. I'm used to the system that takes my GPA as a measure of my skills. I'm used to the process that determines whether I'll be an engineer or doctor when I grow up. I'm used to daydreaming of how I will try to be an ideal parent by breaking the stereotypes I have been through. I'm trying to say that we know, very precisely, everyone of us knows that we are suppressed, stressed and strained to adapt to these conditions. Most of us succeeded too, becoming the normal average teenagers ( the package includes dreams of being a teen superstar in a future) from the notorious extreme fraternities. Those who could not adapt were seen to be thrown off, outlawed and defamed. They were the bad kids, as people would say.
You cannot deny this fact. I know that most of us manipulate things. I may be a zero on ten, but none of you is a ten on ten either. Exceptions inclusive. I don't know if it had been there in the previous generations, if our parents did the same to their grandparents. I don't care about asking. But I know that everyone of us, whosoever fails in establishing a moderately good communication with parents is going to be stressed. I'm not asking you to go tell your parents that you over drank in the hostel last night, and kicked the shit out of M.Techies last night, but just tell them you had a party. I'm saying I should have started telling them 9 years ago, or anywhere down the line, that it was some girl and not Vivek. Things would have been lot more easier.
I'm a very successful man at life, at least my friends think so, and so does the general society I meet. I'm decently educated, pursue a honoured profession, bring big bags of money home, and treat my juniors amply (if I meet them.) What they don't know is how successful do I consider myself to be. Communication with teenagers is my bread and butter. I've known and seen that the least stressed kids are always those who speak frankly to their parents. After all, that's whom you learnt to speak from. After all, they're those people with whom you'd spend majority of life before marriage. After all, they're the people who would support you when you are broke, or when your bone is broken. After all, they're the people who spent years of theirs into carving you. It's very important that the sculptor knows the sculpture before its finishing touches.
Nothing has changed in the past ten years. I still lie to my parents about things as simple as a friend's birthday. I'm used to it. I'm used to the system that sees boy-girl friendships to be out of the box. I'm used to the system that takes my GPA as a measure of my skills. I'm used to the process that determines whether I'll be an engineer or doctor when I grow up. I'm used to daydreaming of how I will try to be an ideal parent by breaking the stereotypes I have been through. I'm trying to say that we know, very precisely, everyone of us knows that we are suppressed, stressed and strained to adapt to these conditions. Most of us succeeded too, becoming the normal average teenagers ( the package includes dreams of being a teen superstar in a future) from the notorious extreme fraternities. Those who could not adapt were seen to be thrown off, outlawed and defamed. They were the bad kids, as people would say.
You cannot deny this fact. I know that most of us manipulate things. I may be a zero on ten, but none of you is a ten on ten either. Exceptions inclusive. I don't know if it had been there in the previous generations, if our parents did the same to their grandparents. I don't care about asking. But I know that everyone of us, whosoever fails in establishing a moderately good communication with parents is going to be stressed. I'm not asking you to go tell your parents that you over drank in the hostel last night, and kicked the shit out of M.Techies last night, but just tell them you had a party. I'm saying I should have started telling them 9 years ago, or anywhere down the line, that it was some girl and not Vivek. Things would have been lot more easier.
I'm a very successful man at life, at least my friends think so, and so does the general society I meet. I'm decently educated, pursue a honoured profession, bring big bags of money home, and treat my juniors amply (if I meet them.) What they don't know is how successful do I consider myself to be. Communication with teenagers is my bread and butter. I've known and seen that the least stressed kids are always those who speak frankly to their parents. After all, that's whom you learnt to speak from. After all, they're those people with whom you'd spend majority of life before marriage. After all, they're the people who would support you when you are broke, or when your bone is broken. After all, they're the people who spent years of theirs into carving you. It's very important that the sculptor knows the sculpture before its finishing touches.
I don't see myself to be successful because I can't share my heart with them. Nothing I'd do would ever connect to them. I've moved too far. When I'm happy, I'd like to go on drives. My parents think it's a fuel waste. When I'm bored, I play pool over a beer. My parents think... Well, I'm not so mad to tell that to them. When I'm sad, I just need lone walks. My parents think I'm sad and try to ask it out. But, the matter is deeply buried under a million lies. I can't disturb the mire just for one gold wire. I let it go. And the mire deepens.
This vicious cycle has got me, kids. And I know, despite my well-being, that I terribly regret moving out of home, and my inability to share myself to my parents. Most of you still have a chance to open things up, all you need to ready is for four or five tough days at max. Just try saying things out, making friends out of your parents. It is not a movie going on here, that your parents will magically understand your thoughts. They're resistant to every possible change, even your sleep timings. You're flexible, because you're still amateur. Take the initiative, let them know what and how deep do you think. Maybe, just maybe, if you succeed, you'll have 2 more friends in your friend list. But they'll be unlike those 1000 others out there who don't give a fudge about you. They'll be like your mom and dad. Please interact.
This vicious cycle has got me, kids. And I know, despite my well-being, that I terribly regret moving out of home, and my inability to share myself to my parents. Most of you still have a chance to open things up, all you need to ready is for four or five tough days at max. Just try saying things out, making friends out of your parents. It is not a movie going on here, that your parents will magically understand your thoughts. They're resistant to every possible change, even your sleep timings. You're flexible, because you're still amateur. Take the initiative, let them know what and how deep do you think. Maybe, just maybe, if you succeed, you'll have 2 more friends in your friend list. But they'll be unlike those 1000 others out there who don't give a fudge about you. They'll be like your mom and dad. Please interact.