The Possession of a Preoccupied Mind

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Hey, how you doin'?  No, I am not rewatching Friends for the zillionth time.  It's just that I hate to start traditionally.  I'm in a conflicting situation: some of my readers like my conversational tone, but apparently it isn't quite acceptable to the publication agencies. Two of my best-appreciated stories were rejected because of their tone. The rejection felt like a jolt that I could practically feel in my head, especially the second one.  Since that day, I've been caught up in a vicious loop of boredom because I stopped writing anything new.   I also called off a new transcription gig that promised me some good money, but the client was a tad bit of a scoundrel in his behaviour.  So here I am, having voluntarily stepped away from both writing and work, and somehow managing to be bored out of my mind. Pretty efficient, ain't I? I'm in that peculiar state where I don't want to do anything to kill time, yet somehow want the time to pass joyfully. I ...
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The Wisdom In Parental Reprimand

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No, I don't mind my parental reprimand. I think I could use some administration in my life. I don't think I have figured it all out. About certain things, I might have, but there is a lot to go and given their age and experience, especially with life and people, I believe there’s wisdom they can pass down to me. Also, I don't think whatever I do is right every time. I question the morals behind everything I do, and if I have done something wrong, then I prefer being hit with the truth rather than hiding behind false justifications. I don't think I deserve immunity from being told the difference between right and wrong. I used to think like that during my soft girl period, but now, at the age where I am right now, I just want to be as morally acceptable a person as I can.  


Another reason is my love and respect for my parents. It is above and beyond. I care for their emotions that are attached to me. A child is a child. He or she is the property of their parents. And one must not appropriate someone's prerogatives. They gave them birth, they provided for them, they nurtured them, not so that one day we could rebel against them. 


Think about them being emotionally detached from us to care about our well-being. What if they haven't provided us with the basic needs? The roof over our head, the food we ate, the clothes we wear. They have provided the basics of life to us for decades and all of a sudden we rise from our righteousness and question their every manner. Our pride comes from being educated. But who patronized the education? They have done a lot, and frankly speaking, they didn't have to. We have seen many children around our surroundings stranded by their parents. Children we see on footpaths, in some vendors' shops working, on food stalls washing the dirty dishes, carrying passengers on a peddling rickshaw. Seeing them should make us realise how privileged we are. 


I care about all this. I am thankful for all they have done for me. I am thankful that I did not have to see the world deprived of parental care. But mostly I care about my parents and their contribution to my life. If they can give me all these, they sure as hell can chew on me at times. Especially when I am wrong. Every time I am questioned, I explain my thought process and listen to their reason to dissuade me, and in most cases, I withdraw from my original idea because every time I listen, I realise they do have a point. 

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