I hope the relationship between my son and myself will be strong enough to sustain me emotionally in my old age, but also to give him a strong anchor in his life.
Whenever I thought of kids, I always hoped for a girl. Especially after marriage, my desire to have a girl increased manifold.
It wasn’t just a fantasy to dress her up or play with her. It was a dream. I wanted to raise a girl who is confident, independent, one who can either find a life partner of her choice or ask us to do the honors for her. A lady who will maintain her identity, stand by it, and defy all the patriarchal norms.
Needless to say, she will stand by her parents even after marriage and look after them just like she would be expected to look after her in-laws. But anyways, god had some other plans.
He gifted me a son and suddenly all my dreams looked frivolous.
I wondered – why? Why was I over assertive on having a confident girl and didn’t care about it when I had a boy? Why had I wanted to raise my girl to take care of me in old age but with a son, I should expect him to lead his own life without worrying about his aging parents? After all, a son isn’t my budhape ki lathi, that’s what everyone says these days. I shouldn’t tie him in my ‘cruel’ expectations and pull down his joys.
The definition of ‘budhape ki lathi’ has changed over the years.
Gone are the days, when aging parents felt financially insecure. Most of us have retirement plans in place, right from the day we start earning. So in all probability, at the time of retirement, we would be financially stronger than our kids (who would still be struggling to finish their masters by then).
So financial needs are taken care of. But what about the emotional needs?
My son is just 4 years old now and I have already started spending time with myself. My son is gradually becoming a little independent, so I have started developing my hobbies and interests (something that I can fall back on in my old age and fight the empty nest syndrome).
I devote a good amount of my time and energy into it. I have places to visit and I have friends to talk to. Yet at the end of the day, I feel tired and exhausted.
That’s when my son jumps in, kisses me good night and hugs me tight to sleep. My eyes with their dark circles sparkle at midnight. The tiredness withers away. The energy for the upcoming day is restored. And most importantly, I am instantly drifted into deep slumber without any sleeping pills or anxiety to sleep with.
Years down the line, most probably my son would be studying in a different city, separated by time zones. Yet every time I sit down for a meal, I will wonder whether my son had his tummy full khana or not. Every time I go to sleep, I will wonder how many hours of sleep my sonny boy is getting.
I value our relationship and will value it till the last breath. In my old age, all I would expect from my son is a little emotional support and I hope I can nurture a strong budhape ki lathi for myself.
I hope, I can inculcate the right values in my son from the beginning. I hope he grows up to appreciate the relationships and value them. I hope he grows up with a heart full of desires and follows his dreams, but that at the same time has a little space reserved for his relationships.
Relationships that will give him strength through the crests and troughs of life.
Relationships that will support him to achieve his dreams.
And relationships whose warmth will traverse the oceans and cuddle us both to a peaceful sleep.
Image source: shutterstock
I am a mother of a baby boy, a management graduate and a multi-faceted professional mom making home a sweeter place to live in. read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, indivisual posts do not necessarily represent the platofrom's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
Netflix’s ‘House Of Secrets: The Burari Deaths’ dwells into the shocking death of an entire family of 11 in one night. It throws light on gender roles, superstitions & mental health in Indian households.
(Trigger Warning: This story delves into a documentary about alleged suicide/murder and may be triggering. Spoilers ahead).
Directed by Leena Yadav and Anubhav Chopra, Netflix’s latest three-episode documentary ‘House of secrets: The Burari Deaths’ traces what happened with the Bhatia family in 2018. On a usual summer morning, 11 members of the same family were found suspiciously hanging from the roof in the suburb of Burari. Later it was concluded to be an occult ritual gone wrong.
How many times do we need to remind people that daughters are not liabilities? That the girl child isn’t some object for which the 'burden' shifts on to another person after she acquires the married tag?
How many times do we need to remind people that daughters are not liabilities? That the girl child isn’t some object for which the ‘burden’ shifts on to another person after she acquires the married tag?
A son is a son all his life. A daughter is a daughter only till the time she gets married.
Times are changing and so are we... So what's wrong if I want a 'live-in-son-in-law' -- Ghar Jamai for my daughter when she grows up?
Times are changing and so are we… So what’s wrong if I want a ‘live-in-son-in-law’ — Ghar Jamai for my daughter when she grows up?
This thought crossed my mind as I was making my daughter sleep one night. Very lovingly she cuddled up to me, still holding on to my shirt, clinging on to me with one hand. I too lovingly brushed my fingers over her head. I couldn’t stop admiring this li’l apple of my eye for long (just like many other moms). I realized that time is going to fly and my daughter will soon grow up, and so I must treasure and cherish all these little moments between us before they pass by like a fresh breeze.
Being rejected in the arranged marriage market is not the end of the world. Here's an account of living alone, living strong.
Being rejected in the arranged marriage market is not the end of the world. Here’s an account of living alone, living strong.
Several times, I hear people discussing why girls like me find it difficult to get married. A girl like me – who is twenty-eight, living in a city all by herself, and running her own little business. I have cried at times, (yes, I accept it here) after I went through rejections. After I heard lots of nasty comments directed at me by my so-called relatives, I too broke down. I too did not have the courage to look up and see the mirror. Perhaps I convinced myself that a girl like me is not good enough.