Our parents were always in a state of war—juggling work, health issues, financial burdens, great aspirations, and limited resources.
They were determined to provide us with a quality upbringing and education, always prioritizing needs over wants. They sacrificed their own needs to fulfill ours—a bargain they took pride in. Thanks to their efforts, we made a significant leap from where our ancestors stood. Our parents achieved so much, but living in a constant state of fight or flight has its curses. We were a family living on survival instincts, which made it difficult to build a stable structure in such circumstances.
We learned a lot, we earned a lot—but we lost a lot too.
Now that we are adults and our parents are aging, I want to tell them something.
I want to say: I love you. But for once, let’s try to push that heavy weight off our shoulders. Let’s allow ourselves to simply be. Let’s give ourselves permission to explore, to find our own structure and discipline—not out of necessity, but out of choice.
Because the world is a harsh place for a super mushy turtle; it needs to find its own shield.
My dear Abu G,
I love you loads.
I missed you so much as a 6-year-old,
Crying in the closet.
Her dad didn’t make it
To birthdays or PTMs.
She was too little to shake it.
I cherished your presence,
I loved when we prayed,
Sending love to elders
Who went on, yet stayed.
How I adored
That cozy human hut—
Warm lap, silly stories,
Wide smile, eyes shut.
Yet, how do I tell you
That for all the love and care,
Being loved doesn’t mean
We must always be a pair?
Mom loves you so deeply,
A love with no curvature,
But since when must it mean
We take tea at the same temperature?
She likes it lukewarm,
You prefer it cooler—
Let it be a beverage, not an order from the ruler.
You gave me rain and laughter,
And sang opera songs,
But that doesn’t mean
We share the same rights and wrongs.
We have the same genes,
But we can make different choices.
You can’t call it rebellion
When humans find their voices.
When goals don’t align,
You can’t call them malign.
You gave me birth,
But this soul is still mine.
When I say no,
And you throw that sad fit—
Had I done that as a child,
You’d have told me to quit.
It hurts me, so you know,
My heart sinks so low.
It’s not a love slaughter;
Just don’t be so gloomy.
You raised a good daughter,
It’s love, not a Bible
Or system international.
We both can be right;
Let’s strive to be rational.
I know you’ve lived life,
Gained wisdom through the years,
But you can’t always save me—
Each human has their fears.
I want to tell, I love you,
I want to tell,
I have grown.
It’s time to face all weathers
For the seed you’ve sown.
~
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