When I was five, my mum had already put me through two different schools, before settling for just the one, that did not suit my personality at all. It is an alien concept for the new age parents, but in the early 80s, Indian parents, even with a degree in child psychology would stick to their own standards, constantly failing to comprehend their child’s aptitude or ability to perform better in a certain conducive environment. As it would also happen in most Indian families, I was constantly compared to my overachieving older cousins, but miraculously I still had the self-confidence left to survive. I was a resilient, chatty, imaginative and weirdly tall child with a horrible hairstyle, but who adapted unusually well to most cumbersome situations.
Raised by overprotective working parents, living in a joint family, I found it difficult to connect with people of my age at school. But there was one kindred soul, who was a family friend’s daughter. She was well-versed and understanding of my peculiarities or if I may say quirks, and I to hers.
We spent many summer afternoons in a hot and humid Kolkata, talking to each other for hours on the (land) phone, discussing our dreams and despair, me filling her in with the stories from newly read novels, and she of her newest adventures with boys, under the moaning old ceiling fans and a watchful disgruntled grandmother.
By 16, I had missed most of the common teenage year milestones such as belonging to a clique in an all-girl school, short skirts, parties with boys and secret discos or even a stolen first kiss. At university, when my best friend arrived for a morning lecture on her boyfriend’s motorcycle, I wondered if I had missed that so-called milestone too.
Life took a different turn eventually and at the age of 20 when I had a crazy heartbreak, I realised I had finally reached my first milestone. The milestone of boundless grief and regrets.
Andrew Garfield at The Late Show with Stephen Colbert talking about his late mother said something that has stayed with me and am paraphrasing here. He said, grief is a wonderful thing that will stay with us forever, till we pass. There is always that regret. We never get enough time with people, whether they live till 60, 15 or 99. I hope this grief stays with me because this is all that unexpressed love that I never got to share.
As I celebrated a ‘milestone’ birthday on Tuesday, here’s what my top 5 tips would be, as an experienced and now certified middle-aged woman.
1. You love more than once. With an almost full heart, even if it’s broken or cracked. Don’t be afraid of that overpowering gush of emotions. And if you have loved fiercely but still lost, that’s ok too. You do not want to ever not know how to love, with every bone and cell in your body. It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. It usually helps you to be a better version of your former self.
2. We all (women) become our mothers. Even in our best efforts to avoid what we fear the most, the nagging, the doubts, the pragmatism. It’s inevitable. But there’s always room to choose what you do not want to be. So, work on that.
Unfortunately, you can’t change what you are born with, but what you do with your life is your choice (in most cases). Your achievements are not defined by what others have done. It’s ok not to be married by a certain age or never or not have children by 30 or ever. It’s your decision. It does not make you any less successful as a woman or human.
3. Nothing can be compared to parents’ love. It’s not unconditional. I don’t believe in that. No relationship is ever unconditional. Let’s not put them on a pedestal, they are humans too with all sorts of insecurities and flaws. But the intensity with which they can love, no one can ever match that. Even if it’s temporary.
So, if you can bear to be in the same room with them, and forgive them for all the hurts and disappointments, do that. You will always have regrets and guilts for not having done enough. So will they. But nothing outweighs what you have done for them or what they have done for you.
4. Travel. With the cost of living high, and various other post-pandemic restrictions it is difficult to plan or budget, but if you can, do travel. Try different food. Try a different culture. Nothing better than learning about the world by travelling the world. It helps you to be more empathetic. Historically humans don’t let things remain beautiful. They destroy nature, and countries, kill their own, drunk with power and illegal ambition. You never know when the country you once visited, the city you walked through be burnt to the ground. So, soak in whatever is unknown, cherish new experiences and build memories. Everything else is short-lived.
5. Make life-long friends. I am very lucky to have 12 girlfriends in my life, who have held me through everything. They are scattered across the world but have all played their roles at different times under different circumstances.
When my parents passed away, they were the first to call or reach or hold me tight. It’s not all glamorous like the Sex and the City, with unlimited champagnes, posh condos or designer clothes. We have our strong differences, and frustrations and our degree of commitment to each other vary. But I am not ashamed to admit, that I would have definitely not survived this journey if they were not the wind beneath my wings. I love you girls. Thank you for being there always.
As the very wise Jay Pritchett, from my all-time favourite, show the ‘Modern Family’ once said: there are all kinds of milestones in life. The kind you expect to live through, the first kiss, birthdays, graduations, if you are lucky a wedding or two, or even a new addition to the family. But then there’s the kind you never dream to live through again and that’s the best kind of all!
(Writer is the Managing Editor of Asian Voice newspaper, who turned 40 on 26 April)
