You must be wondering who I am and why I'm writing this letter to y'all. Let's just say I'm the product of everything wrong with your parenting. Oh yes! There is a thing called parenting, and I'm sorry to break this to you, but you aren't acing at it.
I'm not here to pull out a 'Three Idiots' so that you say 'Yeah! We know. Do what you want to. We aren't stopping you.' I'm here to tell you how not to raise your kid.
Your kid has to be the best, no doubt about that; everyone aims that for their child. But your kid, irrespective and independent of everything else (gender, achievements, profession, marriage, success, future, etc.) needs to be an individual too.
Oh! It's great that you want your child to ace that test, be the best in class, get that scholarship, achieve that degree, get that job, live in a big bungalow, marry the best, and just pilot a rocket ship to Mars. I mean it's great you want all that you couldn't have. Between all those endeavors, do you realize your kid might not want any of those? For once?
I'm sorry to tell you, but this way, you are raising a generation of academically and scholastically appraised youth with zero emotional quotients. We shall soon be an army of robotic brains with no love in our hearts: none, to give or receive.
There is a philosophy in psychology, (thanks to years of therapy that I know it), called 'maximization paradox'. It means 'to exaggerate something trivial out of its importance and lessen the value of something significant.' Well! It applies to the art of parenting too. As highly as 'Sharma Ji ke bete se Sikh' is condemned, so should the practice of 'Mera baccha har cheez mein best'. No! I'm not asking you to minimize their achievements; all I'm saying is- maximize their efforts and recognize them for being 'just' your kid.
I so wish you had not prized my existence into my laurels. I so wish you had not beaten the subject of my dark skin by saying, 'but she is the topper in class'. I so wish you had tried to see through my report cards to know who I was.
𝘐 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦. 𝘐 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘔𝘰𝘮-𝘋𝘢𝘥, 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘴. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘵 4 𝘢𝘮. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘐 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺.
0 comments
Please do not enter any spam link in comment box.