Wild child

During one of our family vacations, I saw a huge, gorgeous tree bent at an angle. I wanted to climb it so my father gave me a hand. I was fifteen and it still is one of my fondest memories. An aunty traveling with us said,’ Amitabha da, your daughter is so wild. Who will marry her?’ I think she used the term ‘গেছো’, literally meaning arboreal. He muttered,’ Doesn’t matter.’ For him, climbing trees was more important than learning how to be more marriageable.

I also liked to climb and walk on walls like cats. An elderly neighbor voiced his concern to my mother,’ What if she falls and breaks her legs? Who will marry her then?’ I had to convince Ma that I would be careful and I avoided the front end of the wall so the neighbor could not see me again enjoying my walks on the walls.

They let me grow unpruned.
I might have some disagreeable parts, but I am completely, authentically me. And somewhere, that wild child still lives on and I am grateful for that.

On Father's Day

Most of my life I have seen him in his police uniform. When the front gate cranked and we hear his boots on the concrete passage to our house, we would settle in and become quiet if we were whiling away or chatting with mother. A strict disciplinarian and with very little patience for weakness- that is how we knew him. Now, I get to see the human behind the uniform, who is equally vulnerable like any other. His eyes light up upon receiving the tiniest of gifts. Even though he is not very verbal about his emotions, he emotes through poetry. I get why he wanted us to be strong. The mother nurtures, the father hopes that we can survive on our own. And somehow feels proud to see us do it. Happy Father's Day. This day and every day. My happiness today is a function of everything you did for us. 

Find someone to talk to

We choose our friends. And if from all the people I chose you, I will make sure you feel pampered. I want you to feel good about yourself. Because I hope to be the kind of friend I needed in my hard times. That is why I have the irritating habit of texting my friends to ask how they are doing when I don’t hear from them for too long. Just to make sure they are doing okay.

Sometimes, it won’t be enough, I know. But the world won’t end that day. Don’t give up on life. And if you ever need someone to talk to, I will make sure that I am available for you. I will stand by you. Vent out, crib, have a good cry on my shoulders. Doesn’t matter how long you need to recover, hold my hand. Too much? Okay, let’s dial it down a bit. I can also give you a glass of wine instead of my hand. In extreme cases, seek professional help. Whatever you need. But, please, oh please! Don’t give up on life. There is always someone willing to listen. Someone who cares. Even if you feel alone, you are not.

National Suicide Prevention Lifelines
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