Pritam's Blog
I Wish I Could Be Proud of My Mom Again
I was so proud of my mom…
As a kid, I didn’t like her presence. I loved her the most, true. But she wasn’t someone I wanted around most of the times. So, on Sundays, I used to be under a lot of stress as she would stay home.
The reason behind this peculiar attitude I had was that my mom, back in those days, used to be extremely volatile.
I grew up in a traditional, Indian joint family. It was a large family — mom, dad, my uncles, aunts, my grandparents, and even my great grandparents — we all used to live together in a huge house. As it happens in large families living together, I grew up seeing a lot of fights. What made it worse was the cohabitation of four generations. Every one had a different mindset. It was a very inflammable environment.
My father’s family is extremely orthodox. That my parents got married in court wasn’t something they could accept. Well, it was my mom who had to bear the brunts. My father was, of course, forgiven.
Anyway, an inherent part of traditional families is that they are highly misogynist. Even the females has a misogynist mindset.
So, when my mom came to this family, she had to suffer a lot. For exapmle, my father’s side of the family couldn’t accept that she was working. My grandpa, as long as he was alive, did not allow my aunt to work — that was the kind of mentality they had. So, when they saw their beloved son married a working woman, they couldn’t take it.
And that my mom, unlike other working women from orthodox families, didn’t hand over her entire salary to the elders in the family, pissed them off more.
Fortunately, my mom was never physically harassed for that, which isn’t something unheard of even in today’s India. So, she was lucky in that way. Afterall, our family had a reputation. We don’t beat up women.
But she had to go through a lot of mental torture. And she fought back.
As a kid, I didn’t understand all these things. I had no sense of who was right and who was wrong. I was just a kid and I was loved by everyone in the family. It was difficult for me to choose a side.
I loved my mom but I also noticed that the air inside the house used to be heavy when she was home. And so, I wished she were at work even on Sundays and other holidays.
As I grew up, I started understanding. I started seeing things the way it is. But I wasn’t surprised at the way I turned out to be.
I am not a misogynist. I am not a lot of other things that my family is. And I turned out to be the way I am because of my mom. She taught me things that no one would even think of teaching their kids. And I was so proud of her.
But she has changed. Ans this change is so drastic that I find it difficult to accept that she was the one who raised me.
The way she talks, things she expects from my girlfriend, it reminds me of my grandmother, the kind of beliefs she had.
I am not proud of my mom anymore. I wish I could be… I she had remained the same as before. I wish she had the same fire inside her.