Unposted Letters : To someone I knew years ago…

Often it happens, what is want to say to someone – remains unsaid. That silence and mum for years builds up in our hearts and minds. Here is a series of “Unposted Letters” which will feature emotions – feelings – thoughts of people who have something to say.

To someone I knew years ago…

You pretended to be my friend and to be on my side. But you truly never were!

How naive of me to believe that we, who had nothing in common…not even a song or book we both liked would go on to become life buddies and best friends forever. When I cried, you patted and hugged me but what you were doing is making notes to share with your “other” friends over your Friday drinks. Why couldn’t I ever see through all that? When I replay old scenes doing a slow motion rewind, I realize that there were clear signs which told me to move on and find a new friend. But I did not!

Today, I am much older, it’s been over a decade and a half and we have gone our separate ways. I choose my  friends wisely and these friends and I have stuck with each other during personal moments of grief and in happier times.

I see you on social media, having fun, posting updates and with close to 1000 friends to boast of. It doesn’t bother me that you have not dropped me a line but it does bother me that you laughed at my expense, had conversations poking fun at me and today there is not a hint of recognition when we bumped into each other at the coffee shop?!

 Anyway, I am going to add this so called friendship to my list of experiences that I have collected over the last three decades. There is a lesson that I will teach my young daughter which can be applied to many areas of life and I learnt these life lessons from a friendship (?).

Don’t be afraid to make the hard decisions and don’t beat yourself up…we all live and learn…

– From a more mature human being…

Guest post writer : Aarti Iyer at http://flyingbubbles.wordpress.com/

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When your hero is not your hero anymore..

In our tender years, we generally look up to the two people we’re most close to – mom and dad. For most people, mom is a synonym to affection, care, nurture etc. While dad is inspiring, motivating and a hero-like figure.

He earns the bread, looks after his family, pays the bills, takes care of every big small need of his kids and never lets them down.

During the pre-teen days, when world is a bed of red roses without thorns, most of us have an inclination to be like our moms or dads. In school paintings we draw our dads as super man and while giving a speech on “who is my hero” we describe our dads.

dad

These rosy days last long for few like me and generally end for many as they hit the teenage clock. With denied permission, checking school bags, inquiring about grades, restricting outings and friends, most dads become Hitlers for their kids.

The other category – they still live in their dreams. The restrictions and permissions feel logical enough. The denial and strict attitude feels necessary. And we still consider our dads as our heroes.

Until finally maturity or harsh reality hits. Then we realize those taunts – he actually means them. When he says he has no faith in you – he meant it. When he told you on your face that you can never do anytime in your life – it wasn’t just meant to shatter your ego. He did mean it. He wanted you to feel the shame of disappointing him. Feel the agony of letting him down amongst his peers.  Feel zero confidence because you’re not worth it. He meant it all.

Maybe you’ll try understanding why he said those things. At times even shrug them aside thinking he really dint mean to say those things. Or even completely laugh about it that he much be having a bad day today.

Until it happens again. And again. And yet again. And everyday.

father

Then you’re forced to think. Really? I am that pathetic? I am totally worthless? And you conclude that you have not achieved anything and you deserve those daily doses.

All those files full of certificates of appreciation, all those friends who boost you, all those unknown people who have faith in you – you ignore them all.

Since you worshiped your dad – he was your hero – every word he says is inked in your mind.

You cry about it every night. Some days those sobs put you to sleep and on other days the same sobs don’t let you sleep.

But it doesn’t stop anything. Nothing changes. With no family – no emotional support you finally start to live in suffocation. Suffocation of your own actions. Actions you were made believe were bad and for which you deserved such a treatment.

And your once beloved dad – stays your hero no more.

dad-father

I hope it’s not true for you.

I hope you don’t live in the constant thought of, when can I run away or death is my only way out.

I hope someone saves you from suicide, someone understands you, someone believes in your convictions and someone stays by your side and says – its okay. You can’t change your parents. You can only learn to live with them.