Journalism of Courage
My mother always says that parenting is the only job that doesn’t come with a job description. She, who turned grey in her late 20s also says she has proudly earned every white hair she has as she lived through each day with the three of her kids. As the eldest, my sister Seema was the ringleader of our trio. Samir, my brother, was the brawn with all the bravado, and I was the silent, steady mischief-maker who was least expected to do anything even remotely wrong. We brought our distinct personalities, strengths and weaknesses together and became legendary in our family and friend circles for the tireless energy with which we would descend, like a tornado, upon the homes of loved ones, rattling everyone and everything. But my parents mastered how to indulge our naughtiness and tire us out early with lasting results of quiet engagement that would charm our hosts in the end. By showing our worst first, they set the stage for the calm that came afterwards.
That was then; today, we are still three vociferous, impish, rather boisterous, but deeply comfortable beings. What connects us is our DNA, and it is only there and in our deep comfort with self and our surroundings where we find similarities. Beyond that, we are three very different human beings, drawn to diverse interests and leading lives with distinct perspectives and an abundance of independence from one another. We dress differently and have very different professions. Our appreciation of art and curiosities has much in common, but the contrasts also remain stark. We love and live in ways other than what has been the norm, and we have, each in our own way, challenged the very fabric of what society considers normal. Where we find common ground is in the resilience with which we face the gravity of vexing issues and the relative ease with which we tackle tough challenges. Here, we find a familial connectivity, a handout from our stoic parents, that unites us in times where such strength and fortitude is a peerlessly wonderful resource.
The fear of defeat and loss, the hopes attached to victory and gains — these aren’t the fuel driving the engines that lead my siblings and me forward. Our parents taught us to find purpose in life and encouraged us to make that purpose our reason to get up in the morning. We were encouraged from a young age to act such that our strengths and passions and our professional and personal callings would be in sync with the motions of the planet. To find meaning in life, we were taught to be that person that fleshed out the meaning of living.
Mom would ask us to preserve our personal dignity by controlling our demeanor when times were tough. These were the moments when she expected us to rise and shine, to show resilience, emotional maturity and strength, no matter how discouraging the challenges thrown our way. She has always urged us to let go of what is beyond our ability to change and instead focus on those spheres of our lives where we see an opportunity to bring about change that is good for the world at large. In teaching us to free ourselves of that which we cannot alter, Mom has given us kids a strong and enduring foundation that doesn’t break down easily when provoked. She taught us to accept, divest and move on when others misbehave, provoke, wrong or cheat. As tough as this often is, our mother lives and abides by this most effortlessly, and always with a smile.
Each of us three kids were so unique that, raised in one household and with parameters identical for each, we still came of age with distinct timelines and outcomes, unique paths and progressions. Mom and Dad never compared us to one another or anyone else. They focused on who we were as individuals and encouraged us to be richer versions of ourselves. In taking away any competition we might have had with another and those around us, they taught us to seek improvement in ourselves. Even now, I hear Mom telling us to keep making those small changes in how we see and do things, changes that lead us to places of deeper impact.
I was barely more than a handful of years old when I announced at the breakfast table that I knew the spelling of jam. I spelled it N-O-G-A-J-A-M. I was simply reading the letters on the bottle of strawberry jam on the table. Mom and Dad laughed heartily, and Papa shared this with one and all for many years. In my innocence and my imperfection, he found a moment of levity. Mom’s favourite refrain is that nothing in life is perfect, and nothing is permanent. In teaching us that neither she nor our father were perfect, she gave us an early education in making peace with imperfections and celebrating the uniqueness that comes with them. She brought us the gift of acceptance and joy where others would see intolerance and misery.
What I have learned from my parents, and what I am remembering the most as I type my second column of 2023, is their desire and ability to acquire knowledge. They taught us to follow and imitate the lives of great masters and do our best to learn from their discoveries, thereby minimising our exposure to failure. They encouraged us not only to experiment with what we learned and find our own unique paths, but also to use that knowledge as a cushion that would protect us from hardships in the future. They taught us to keep our focus on innovating, with a respect for learning, and for accepting the myriad ways in which that knowledge and creation would affect a variety of situations.
As children, my brother and sister and I were the stragglers of the extended family, but today we seem to be just as functionally dysfunctional as those who seemed perfect back then. Many of my childhood friends are at the top of their game, and some have made immense fortunes. But such gains do not guarantee abundant and fulsome lives. Finding your purpose, making peace with your past, embracing your unique identity, finding strength and courage to accept your own flaws and those of others – these are essentials we cannot evade but must learn to accept, indulge, embrace, and become one with. We must find masters to look up to, elders and teachers, to whom we go when in places of tenebrous doubts where dark-clouded thinking turns into self-doubt and from that into murkier and more vexing states of being. These invaluable lessons gifted to my siblings and me from our parents made our youth exciting and have us seeing life with greater comfort and richer clarity as adults.
