Thoughtful Recollection

As I flipped through the pages of Virginia Woolf's poetry collection, my eyes fell upon the lines: "Hope is a thing with feathers." In that moment, it was as if those words reached out to me, offering a glimmer of light in the darkness that had engulfed me. Until last night, I had been drowning in despair, teetering on the edge of an abyss with no clear path ahead. Lost and directionless, I feared being consumed by the depths of hopelessness.

Yet, in my darkest hour, I had forgotten one crucial truth: the guiding hand of the Creator who lights our way even in the bleakest of moments, carving out paths where none seemed to exist. Awakening the next morning, I found myself infused with newfound vigor and optimism, akin to the vibrant blooms adorning the garden outside. I was a girl reborn, fueled by the flicker of hope burning within me.

With determination coursing through my veins, I turned to the words of Virginia Woolf's poem, reading and rereading them until they were etched into my soul. They breathed life into my aspirations, casting a clarity over the path that lay before me. Now, my purpose was clear, my resolve unshakeable. It was time to embark on the journey that awaited me, armed with hope and the unwavering belief in my ability to rise above the challenges that lay ahead.

I navigated to the website of a local newspaper, determined to take a leap of faith and share my passion for writing with the world. Scouring the pages, I found the email address of the editor and carefully composed a message, attaching an article I had penned on parenting. Despite lacking personal experience in this realm, I drew upon a lifetime of observations and insights to craft a piece filled with advice and reflections on nurturing children. With a little assistance from Google, I polished my work, hoping it would resonate with the publication's readership.

As I hit the send button, a surge of anticipation coursed through me. Would my article be selected for publication? It was a question that hung in the air, buoyed by a fragile yet unwavering hope, much like a delicate feather drifting on the breeze.

Stepping out of my new abode around 8 a.m., I was greeted by the bustling energy of the morning routine. The children, Rix and Sania, were bustling about, preparing for another day at school while Mrs. George busied herself with packing their lunch boxes. Amidst the chaos, Sania voiced her distaste for salad, prompting a loving yet distracted response from her mother. With Rix's reminder of the approaching van, they hurried out the door, leaving behind a flurry of activity.

Meanwhile, Mr. George, accustomed to a later start, remained nestled in the comfort of his room, catching a few extra hours of sleep before his workday commenced at 10 a.m. As Mrs. George bid farewell to her children with kisses and well-wishes, I couldn't help but marvel at the sense of warmth and familial love that permeated their home, a stark contrast to the solitude I had grown accustomed to.

"You wake up." She let out a shocked reaction as she saw me standing at the counter of the kitchen as she returned to the kitchen after seeing off the children.

"Yeah."

"That's pretty early. I didn't expected as a early bird."

"Well, I'm not. But today my eyes split early."

"Why so?"

"Actually, I have not slept. Maybe, because the place was new so. Anyhow, I'll get used to it."

"Oh yeah yeah."

"What would you have in breakfast?"

"I'll make it. Thanks." I smiled.

"C'mon, I'm making mine. Will make it for both. It's not a big deal. Though, you can still give me company."

She chuckled.

"Ok!" I agreed without insisting as I knew the convincing powers of house wives, once they decide a thing they'd do it at any cost, no matter what.

"Plain omelette with bread slice." I said my choice.

"Nice. Healthy one."

I smiled.

We both sat at the dining table as I served the breakfast she prepared for us and then we began eating.

"What's your plans?" She asked me taking a bite of bread.

"About what?" I asked.

"Future plans, obviously."

Umm.. well.. I'm still in the phase of deciding. Especially, now when I have to manage it on my own."

"It's a good thing, by the way."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah! Definitely!"

"Umm... i thought otherwise."

You know, Grace. We make our children so much dependent on us that they don't know how to tackle with the world outside. The become so naive to these things. We need to teach them from the day first how to deal with the world. People who are clever than us. We need to infuse in them how to be on their own. Make them capable of taking their own decisions and life choices. Be it right and wrong and give them the freedom to choose. We should accept them with their flaws and sure them that they will have our back no matter if they got wrong at one point or two.

This is how they learn. This is how everyone learn. Life is a learning process. We all go through these phases. And we all should go through it. Experiencing different shades of life is pertinent.

When we ourselves have been through it, and achieve this status of being an experienced parent who knows what would be good and bad for them after having gone through it ourselves in the first place. How could we expect our children to not do anything wrong and be perfect even in their teenage. After what little they have experienced. Just nothing because he had been pampering them from the day they came into this world.

And how could we just not let them experience it in the name of protection. They don't deserve this treatment, Grace. They, literally, don't.

They deserve better. Parents should give their children the freedom to choose and live their own life the way their children wanted. Not the way they wanted it to be. It's not their life. Parents need to understand that first.

You know Grace, when I was in my teenage I used to thought that my parents are being protective. They are shielding me from the world. It's for my own good. But trust me. Trust me Grace. It was the biggest harm they did to me. The harm of protecting me from a world I have to survive in one day without them.

How could I survive in a world I had not a tiniest bit idea of?

My Mom died because of pneumonia, my Dad remarried.

I was left alone, which my parents never let me before.

I had to face this world now on my own. Survive in it. You couldn't imagine, Grace, how hard and difficult it was for me. Everyone took as much advantage of me as they could.

They used me like a tissue paper and threw me.

I was naive, innocent, and a mummy daddy child who had always been under protective shell of her parents.

Boys used me. Girls used me. My friends used me. My neighbors used me. Every person I go to, they used me, pathetically and ruthlessly.

Now tell me, Grace, what good had they done to me?

Nothing.

I wish, they hadn't not done this to me.

I wish they had taught me the way to deal with the shit of this world.

But unfortunately, Grace, they hadn't.

I cried, I screamed, i cursed myself sometimes. But then eventually and gradually, I learned it. The way to deal with it.

See, even if they were trying to protect me earlier. But they couldn't do it for forever. The things which world has to teach me it did. Sooner or later. However, if they have let me experienced it on time, atleast I'd have a shoulder to lay my head on and cry.

Whereas, later I missed their support and back." She took a pause as her tips were circulating on the surface of the dining.

"I think I spoke to much. So, for boring you."

"No no, you didn't. Infact, I enjoyed it."

She smiled at me while standing up and went to the kitchen with the empty plates.

However, I was left on the dining table all alone, surrounded by many questions and answers of many others as I took last sip of my coffee.