Disagreeing with Mother

The hotheaded obstinate girl in a peaceful Bengali family – the character is a part of me that is going away soon. My husband found that out after we tied the knot. The image of the docile timid girl is probably being gathering dust in the attics of his memory for about two years now.

Growing up my mother and I never saw eye to eye on a lot of things. Sometimes it was that ghastly yellow dress bought from the store or the unsavory dal for lunch or the matter if I should stay up at Shreya’s place for the night – we disagreed on everything. There were times I fancied that I was a runaway and maybe was found on the streets. When I told this to my father he quietly got up and left the room. He came back carrying the old photo album and showed me a photo where he was carrying me in his arms. Needless to say much to my chagrin this incident continues to be one of the top running jokes in my family till this date.


Over the years the urge to rebel became stronger. Teenage made it easier for me. It wasn’t me, it was the hormones wreaking havoc on my mind. That is what I told everyone. Soon it became a sort of show for power. Giving up on my opinion meant being the weak one – and for a long time I chose to be blind and deaf to the truth and facts taking solace in my own version of reality. There were the few occasions when I felt that I did like my mother’s choice, but was tempted to be the defiant girl just for the sake of remaining true to my reputation.

Soon it was time to leave the homestead for college. Life in an unknown city located in a state miles away from my home awaited me. Just to give an idea about how different this place was I will say that a whopping majority of the population, the local people spoke a language about which I had no prior knowledge. My parents were a bundle of nerves, I still remember asking my mother who was holding onto my hand to calm down and let me go as I was running late for the first day. Later that day she told me she knew I would fight and survive in this city. I would make it my own. She had expressed her reservations but knew in doing so she had allowed her daughter to emerge as a strong woman.

Sometimes one is obstinate for the sake of self-preservation. Other times when this obstinate behavior cuts down chances of self-development, it becomes an act of foolishness. I was committing this error for a very long time and am now on the road to correct them.

Disagree – Daily Prompt by WordPress

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