Parenting is a minefield- as say the (other)wise! The blasts hit you a bit harder when you plunge into parenthood thinking you are too well-equipped and have done your homework well. All set with seat-belts fastened, its only after the take-off that the reality of the out-of-syllabus tribulations hits- one stage at a time. And they hit you real hard!
Far from being a perfectly poised parent, to a petty parent and now a parent who became a poet…I’m barely managing not being flung off this roller coaster each day and at every stage.
Banter between Generations
My son stepped into his teens 4 years back. Since then we have savored each other’s taunts for breakfasts, ‘I hate you Ma’, I hate you too baby’ for lunches and fiery face-offs for many a dinner and survived each other. The only constant in the unpredictable journey has been the underlying humor which is a family trait. My son inherited my husband’s wit. He seasons it with some of mine and tempers it well with his own trademark one-liners.
On one of the many epic face-off days, when the three of us lost it with each other, was laid the foundation of this banter. The journey of writing it was full of fireworks and disagreements galore.
The most heartwarming is the aftermath. The journey I’m living now performing this piece with my brat. Every vent out on the stage at various forums is making us connect better. We are not just improvising and improving this piece but unknowingly also all the inner connections and bonds. After we finish the piece each time, that wicked glance that says ‘Not bad, Ma!’ makes me step forward to hug him. But then I get a stern, ‘No, PDAing. It’s just too embarrassing Ma” look!
This Children’s Day onwards lets bridge all generation gaps playfully and happily! Speak up, vent out and let them too! For, despite all its tribulations, parenthood certainly is the most beautiful flight! And teenage the best age to make memories and wake up to so many new things life will bring along. Poetry of Parenting Yes, I took it too seriously, Equipped with all the gyan, My parenting journey had to be Of perfect poise and élan, Instead, I found myself flunking and flouting, Facing coups inside, Yet on the outside, pouting! A decade and a half and a little more, Of madness, moments and more. Yes, I survived after stumbling galore, To emerge a poet after a furor. Where and when our wavelengths matched, To get together and do this banter Lay ourselves bare to the core I’m still wondering and am just not sure!