The Daddy’s Princess who taught life was all about Fun and Dance Until…

Daddy’s love their daughter. The affection that they don’t get from their wives they get from their daughter. The changes you want to see in your wife you can actually make it happen in your daughter!!!

You can make her think like you. You can sell your ideology to her. You can cook her breakfast and tell the guy she goes out on her first date, that you would kill him, if he ever hurts her.

Daddy work his ass off. Daddy makes her believe life is beautiful. Daddy makes all her wishes come true. She can do whatever she wants, she can spend on anything she can think about.

Only Daddy doesn’t teach her how to think. Princess is limited by her thinking Princess doesn’t think that Daddy’s is becoming older. Princess doesn’t see Daddy is not working as much as he was. Daddy’s is not as strong as he used to be.

Princess beleives her Daddy is the greatest. She knows she won’t have to work for money because daddy dearest has made enough for her. This is a great world, but then hormones and puberty and youth take over the brain.

She falls in love, many times. She is heart broken, daddy is more heart broken. He watches his baby and stands by her side. He nurtures her, he plays the fool and gets his baby back on her feet. He curses the patriarchy and is at loss to understand the psyche of the man who hurt his angel.

After a lot many heartbreaks, princess marries the “mama’s boy”. Mama’s Boy thinks she is sex slave. Mama’s Boy marries her only to be disappointed. Mama’s Boy was expecting abundance to come with the princess. Mama’s Boy feels princess is burden. He takes upon himself to correct her. He uses the rod and doesn’t spare the child.

Princess now no longer thinks life is fun and dance.

Photo by Civalias Kune on Unsplash

The sweet street child and the lost mother.

The child was not more than 6. He was looking at me repeatedly with hope. I wanted to take out something from my bag and give him something. But then I realised; I don’t have anything in my bag, not even a pen to offer.

I looked at his mother; she looked a bit disturbed. Someone who chose her dream but kept returning empty handed. I realised, if I offered anything to the child, the mother might accuse me of something and try to extort money. She looked that kind of lost, like a drug addict. She didn’t seem to be an addict, but she had the lost look.

The street boy approached the older man sitting next to me on the park bench. The elderly man tells the that he has some goodies in his bag, incidentally the old man knew the boy and his mother. The sweet kid got his stuff and thanked and backed off looking at me. I wondered why is he trying to please me?

The old man started talking to me, saying the mother is spoiling the child’s life. He says he tried to fix a job for the mother, but she prefers to roam around and doesn’t like her freedom to be curtailed, by a job.

The old man said, once a life goes off track it’s next to impossible to get life on tracks, suddenly I felt an eerie similarity between myself and the woman. I also don’t like to be tied down. The mother had left her husband for another man, he said. However, this new man she chose also didn’t have any money. He blamed the woman for choosing the wrong man again.

I got up and said to the elderly man; I have to get moving. The elderly man didn’t understand my abrupt urge to go and not want to listen to his story about the street kid and his mom.

It’s a bit scary, getting to know completely strange people on a park bench. Maybe it’s a trap for extortion or maybe he was just sharing his story. But mumbai you cannot trust totally.

Vitalii Shmorgun / 500px

Learning to Fight Back

As far as I remember, I was labelled as the “obedient child” a little bit early in life. An obedient child is aptly rewarded for good behaviour. Even as a child one tends to understand that one has to exhibit proper behaviour, which mostly meant “Just keep your stupid mouth shut”.

This enormous burden of a sweet boy label creates an extremely repressed young boy. The obedient child doesn’t get a chance to rebel; because of the following reasons

1) Complete denial of access to the outside world and interactions.
2) He is made entirely dependent on his parents.
3) By reiterating by action and words, that your parents can take care of all your problems.

I am not saying that this is all deliberate actions on the part of the parents, but it may be just how parents are, they want to control their creation. I hope though some enlightened parents know better than this?

I am no longer an obedient child; in fact, I have rejected the society as it is, I am one of the biggest critiques of societal norms and the superficial values it imposes so that it can make compliant citizens of everyone.

But being an armchair critique is one thing and fighting back is an entirely different ball game.

I have never learnt to fight back for my rights, because fighting back most of the time means hurting the very ones who said, they would protect you. Fighting back means telling the people you respect and sometimes even love, that they are hurting you.

Sometimes there is a such a thin line between what is rightfully yours and what’s not? It is like the predicament of Arjun who drops his weapons when given the task to eliminate his elders and loved ones.

Life is messy and it gets dirtier when faced with such a dilemma, but one has to fight and I hope I learn to fight, and always fight for the right cause.

Revisiting the Past.

Making a journey to the past, revisiting it. The journey to the past would be only constrained by the memories (of happiness and sadness).

reconstructing it with new adult perspectives and reinforcing the relationships which were meant to be broken and healing them by thought.

The past shouldn’t be treated like a trash can, it can be salvaged and re-aligned with your present and might just make the future richer.

So what are the tools we have to revisit the past. I am starting a dairy for each relationship, for each phase, for each venture in the past and reconstructing it with memory. I am writing non linearly, whatever comes to my mind. Do let me know if you have other tools to revisit the past. Maybe past life regression? Has it worked for you?

There is too much of a treasure left behind to let it go. It is a short life as we all say, nothing is worth losing.


Daddy dont cry

Today I stumbled from my bed

With thunder crashing in my head
My pillow still wet
From last night tears
And as I think of giving up
A voice inside my coffee-cup
Kept crying but
And ringing in my ears
Dont cry daddy
Daddy, please dont cry
Daddy, youve still got me and little tommy
Together well find a brand new mommy
Daddy, daddy, please laugh again
Daddy ride us on your back again
Oh, daddy, please dont cry
Why are children always first
To feel the pain and hurt the worst
Its true, but somehow
It just dont seem right
cause evry time I cry I know
It hurts my little children so
I wonder will it be the same tonight
Dont cry daddy
Daddy, please dont cry
Daddy, youve still got me and little tommy
Together well find a brand new mommy
Daddy, daddy, please laugh again
Daddy ride us on your back again
Oh, daddy, please dont cry
Oh, daddy, please dont cry