People love to judge and comment on other people, stereotyping them on the basis of their physical appearance, their manner of speaking and what not. It is human nature; something so common that it seems to be ingrained in our DNA. Why is it so? Because we like things to be simple and predictable! Some popular perceptions are as such:

– If you wear specs, you are considered intelligent.
– So you are an IITian? OMG! I bow before you!
– Moms have no identity of their own; their whole life revolves around their children.

I wear specs and consider myself of above-average intelligence (hey, I can back up my claims too!); although I’ve seen quite a few exceptions too. My cousin is an IITian and surprisingly, he is a normal human being; not a God of some sorts. As in case of moms, I know one thing for sure: my mom is definitely the EXCEPTION!

I also used to think that we lived inside earth. I was a really imaginative child.

Anyways, the topic was- my mom. She practiced the fine art of using reverse psychology on unsuspecting people, especially me and my elder brother. We both would fight occasionally (thanks a lot, sibling rivalry!) and then expect mom to take sides or hear a violent outburst from her. She did neither. Instead she would suggest us to continue the fight. We would stop immediately, confused and thinking: WTF mom?

Those were the days…spending time with my brother was so much fun!

We were encouraged to finish our homework and projects on our own. Mom, being a maths teacher, helped me prepare for maths tests and cleared my doubts in other subjects too. She insisted on making us independent; being able to make our own decisions and stand by them as well. She could’ve acted all control-freak and indulged in helicopter parenting (acting like your child’s chaperon/ personal assistant all the time) ; but she didn’t. There was a zero tolerance policy towards tantrums. But we weren’t denied anything. We used to attend book fair held at Pragati Maidan every year ( it wasn’t the ‘in’ thing back then), dance and art classes in summer holidays. It was a normal childhood.

Except when she would start singing. It was..TERRIBLE!

As I grew up, I started understanding her better. And why she did things the way she did them. Sometimes first impression is not really the last impression. Because that’s what she told me when something went wrong and I felt like crying.

Love you, mom.

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