“Hunger strike”, the strike that sets things straight…
The four day long strike works wonders, it amends rules, makes you a hero, wins you the required attention and often melts hearts…whether at national level or domestic. What??? Yeah...People do it…no!!! I have done it. Not something I am very proud of,but this incident was a great learning experience.
The story dates back to the days when I the elder daughter of family, was mature enough to understand things and people around (as I believed then) and at an age when ego clashes with parents (mom in my case)is a norm.I too had a little chapter in the history of the great ‘Anshan Andolan’.
I was getting tired of being mom’s punching bag and ...err kind of demanded explanations for her acts of ‘atrocities’ on me. “Why am I the one who is always wrong?” and “Why should I be patient and listen to your shouting without any mistakes?” and “Why do I always get, when you are in a bad mood because of somebody else?” and the questionnaire continue into pages.
Well, with the responses I received, I understood that parents are the only blessed beings on this planet who can get away without giving any explanations to their kids.Certainly, children do understand this fact over a period of time and after several fights and argument sessions.Till then, the young and aggressive minds just keep boiling up.
Was I any different? My anger was just pushing me into a cave of arrogance,non-tolerance,aggression and finally ‘hunger strike’. Well, I was stubborn,the opponent being my mother and the result was “khana….huh,nahi khaana”. After one of such deadly fights with mom, I refused having dinner and also lunch, the following day. I survived on water,but mom didn’t pacify me.Rather, she got me some Parle-G biscuits and kept them open in the kitchen. So,‘paani’ and Parle-G for the next two days were my lunch and dinner. Secretly, I did wish she will come and plead me to eat, but it didn’t really happen. She was as adamant as her daughter.
On the third day, while I was looking at the window,and wondering if glucose biscuits would become the permanent dish on my menu for lifetime….mom with whom I wasn’t talking to for all these days,came and gently asked me when would I have food. Yes! I was surprised, secretly happy too but what I could emit was only my rage. Then the most unexpected thing happened. She apologized and served me food. Wow rice,dal and ‘sabzi’, never tasted so heavenly.
With tears in her our eyes,my plans to sticking to my new-found staple diet (glucose biscuits… remember)trickled down. And with that, I made two very important promises to myself.Never to get angry with mom and most importantly with food!
Kahani abhi baaki hai…I realized one thing through this event, that no matter how difficult it was to express,mom loves me a lot (the most infact). I understood this (much later) just as I was stepping into my teen years, that along with me, it was also my mom’s first experience to deal with a growing child, and that we both have to learn it the hard way (especially me).
No comments:
Post a Comment