Ages bring transformation, I realized, don’t know when it happened but yeah, my parents now act much like my children. One who supported me till yesterday, seek my support and care now. With their aging, they’ve adapted myriad features; those were in me when I was a kid. My father, one whom I used to be scared of; that time, going in front of him even, was nothing less than a dare. Is he the same, when he calls me first, before taking any decision in a voice tone called seeking suggestion? It’s like, why? You’ve always been my guide, how can I guide you now? Somehow they keep trying to create a space, maybe for an older version of themselves. Both parents and child pass through this role reversal phase.
I used to hate medicines what my mother does now. I loved to be ignorant about the hazards of my habits, no matter how bad those were for my health, now you’ve become careless. The abstemiousness that once you taught me to keep; I feel the need to convince you now.
You told me to be fearless and bold and now you usually bristle yourself down at every small worry. Is your pale face or wrinkle crafted bones are the reason? I learned from you, not to be stubborn, now you’ve mastered it. You’ve always kept your caring hand on my head, whether I’m wrong or right. Don’t know why, maybe just to show, it’s still can be corrected.
Dear parents, the changes inside you, those coming, every coming day, snatches my desire to grow up. I’m your child, still want you to control me, how could you be so dependent on me, someone who had been living under your shelter so far. These are the thoughts that my heart pushes my mind. Every day you asked me to get mature, grow up strong, told me that I’ve to learn to handle, mold into conditions, the wants of this delightful nature. You had been preparing me for this since my birth.
You know what? Yes, I’m now capable for all, still can’t see you growing old and weak. The comeuppance for my mischief that I used to get from both you, I really miss it now. Now you don’t scold me, you just keep yourself quiet, I miss that too. This nasty time has changed everything except your intense care for me. The harsh toughness in your daily routine that you had been tackling smoothly, I’m still immature to be capable for that.
Decisively I would say, can’t explain it more. I just hate it! More specifically when I can’t feel the changes those abruptly imposed on me, without any permission sought from me. Dear time! Don’t let me learn this truth, I pray.
