Amma v Thaththa

When I was a kid, local TV stations used to play a song where a brother and sister argue about which parent is the best. Here the siblings list out various reasons why their mother is better than the father or the father is better than the mother. Finally they ask a brother (if I remember right) which parent is the best. They are told both are equally good.

Surathal Nangiye Ape Amma

We rarely have to say which parent we love more. However, it is often believed that children love their mothers more. This is understandable since children tend to spend more time with their mothers. Further, it is the mother who gives birth and whose blood turns to milk, which in turn feeds her child.

However, we need to also look at how much our fathers do for us. While our mothers could afford to stay away from work to take care of us, our fathers have to work really hard to earn money, while wishing they could be with us. Do you think they enjoyed the late night away from their children?

Amma sandaki mama e lowa hiruya ridee
E ira handin numbe lokaya eliya wuni
Rekumata puthun diwiye duk geheta windi
Piya senehasata kawi gee liyawuna madi


'Amma raththaran nam, thaththa piththalada?'
Tuktuk Wisdom


From how close we are, it's easy to assume my mother knows I will take care of her when she's old. However, the same cannot be said about my father. His job kept him away from us and in general, we tend to not always be close.

Recently, while having dinner with some of his friends, thathee started discussing a song in which the parents sing about their daughter leaving their home because she got married. So while discussing the song, they said my father will also have to sing it. However, he said he wouldn't have to, since I wouldn't get married.

I thought he knew about my thoughts about marriage and was happy he knew. However, he wasn't talking about my own views. When asked why I wouldn't get married, he said, I have to take care of him instead. And then I realized that even though I'm rude and I tend to disagree with him and insult him, I will take care of him.

In life, people make choices that hurt them and hurt others too. However, these choices don't make them bad people. And no matter what they do or say, you can't deny that your parents love you. I took a long time to realize this. To accept that my father would always be my father, the only man I would truly trust and love.

Sometimes I prefer keeping my feelings private. This is why I rarely show my family I love them. However, I do love them. And not just my mother and grandmother and brother. I love my father too. And maybe I rarely talk about it, but I don't think I need to tell him or anyone else this.

During a school Open Day, when our parents meet our teachers, I remember how I saw my father walking towards my class. He had come from office and looked smart in his office attire. At that moment I felt so proud of him, so happy that he was my father. Even now, when I go about with him, his presence is a comfort. I feel safer.



We may not tell our parents we love them. We may not always show them we love them. However, when the world keeps closing in on us, our parents give us strength. They help us through life and they show us the way. And if we are to say which parent we love more, well, there's no answer (unless of course, you had abusive parents who abandoned you).

And sure, I forget (sometimes intentionally) Mothers Day and Fathers Day. But this is because I don't need one day a year to tell my parents I love them. For, as long as I'm alive, I will always love you, Ammi and Thaththee.


(And no, I'm not saying all of these things in hopes you will buy me something cool. I know I make demands but what you have given me is enough)

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Availability, dating, love, etc.

There’s a line in Sally Rooney’s Conversations with Friends where, towards the very end of the book, one character says to another: “You know, I still have that impulse to be available to you.” This line struck me when I first read it, because it seemed to describe simply what love is: an impulse, a desire to always be available for a person. Now, when I first read the book, I hadn’t really dated, but later, when it happened, I saw how this simple need to always be available to someone wasn’t love. Not necessarily. Not always. It was sometimes a sure-fire way of hating yourself and perhaps even hurting others. I don’t like dating; I’ve vowed to never date. And the reason is this sense of availability, this sense of giving it my all. I haven’t particularly liked any of the, let’s see, two people I can say I dated, even though it’s a stretch, really. But in both instances, there was no real attraction to the person. They were available and bored. I was available and bored. Quite roma
Read more

Alone time

Image
Nation Free editorial Alone time is a few minutes or even hours all for yourself. It can be spent at home, at a bookstore or library or even in an unknown city. There are no rules or regulations or rituals regarding alone time. Sometimes you just feel you need to be alone and you find a place you feel the most isolated from others. A need for some alone time arises in most of us. It starts like a mild breeze on a hot day and can end like a tidal wave that hits you with great force. This need, when not addressed, could turn into anxiety or depression. Pic by Sakuna Gamage However, many assume needing alone time is a sign of mental weakness; that it is only the troubled who need time away from other people, or in most cases, those familiar faces. This is far from the truth. We can’t continue to spend night and day with the same people and at some point or the other, we need to get out. If you feel like a trapped animal in your own home or school or workplace, plan a vacation wh
Read more

Learning to Let Go

Kumara is only a name in my memories. I think he was dark, and not that tall. I think he wore shorts, but I can’t be sure. What I do remember about him is related to bikes. Since my brother was the leader of the pack, even though the pack had three girls and only one boy, we were mostly tomboys. We never had Barbies and tea sets to play with. Among our various treasures were our bikes. Since the pack of cousins was nearly all the same age, we went through the same phases together. The most excited phase for me was the bike phase. Each of us had a cycle and we loved racing each other around the heart shaped lawn in my uncle’s garden. We never spent too much time with the training wheels, and had our knees scraped too many times. I still remember the time I fell off, my bike landing on me. The sun was setting, and my body was covered in sweat. I knew my knee was bleeding and dreaded the moment the adults would clean the wound. When my uncle and aunt rushed to me, I told
Read more