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Welcome back to a place where recently I decided to tell stories. Why? Well, because first of all, I have lots of them. Second of all, well, let us keep it till the end. You will find the second reason in the end. For those who are here for the first time, I suggest you read the previous blog before this to actually enjoy the story. Let’s start.

Now that the parents are disappointed in the child for not agreeing with the fashion of joining hands as they did and considering the person whom their parents didn’t approve earlier, closer than themselves and calling the prime minister a HUMAN and not GOD, they wonder how could their child who they raised with so much love and care, do this to them.

But they cannot talk to the kid and ask “Are you okay? Is there anything you want us to talk about or need us to hear?” because (… I could not find any reason, I honestly tried.) So they do the only thing they could. And that is to ASSUME. Assume that it’s because of a bad company of friends. “They spoiled my lil angel” Well, that isn’t entirely incorrect. The kid who is no longer a kid starts smoking. Company or choice? “Choice? Oh no. My lil angel won’t ever do that.”

And this is when we hear the side of the kid right? Because even if you don’t believe Every coin has two sides.

So when the confusion began after the political debate around demonetization between the kid and the father, a chain-reaction started. (Chemical student? Hard already? :P) A flash of memories right from the fact that the parents only taught about one way of joining hands and mentioned nothing about joining it sideways or making a cross of it stood up. Followed by the time when they asked: “how does your friend join hand?”. Came after that when the chicken was impure and if even you sit with someone eats that, you need to take a bath. The vision of a bakery drowning in a flood and of course the brightest there stood a man with white grown and groomed beard and few white hair on his head, spectacles and a bright light of a temple came from his back. (I wonder what he was smoking.)

The parents read this and went back to talk to their child.

“We did everything for you. We want you to be a good man.” said the mother.
“I know.”
“Why are acting like someone else then? You don’t pray like us, you don’t get a job, you hate our god” the father spoke. agitated.
“DADDD for the last time, our prime minister is a HUMAN”
(Hindi daily-soap dhooomtananananandhoomtanananaana music plays.)

“And yes, I’m acting like someone else. (This is gonna be a Kartik Aryan monologue, hold up.) Because I’m someone else. I’m not you. I’m not mom. I’m… well, me. I understand you brought me up with all the love possible, gave me all the comforts that you didn’t get and worked harder than you needed to. All that you taught me is what you thought was the best, no no, it was what your parents thought was the best for you and this is a vicious cycle of unsaid expectations where a kid is supposed to be what their parents think is best for them. Because their parents thought to join hands Palm-on-Palm was better than Side-on-Side or making a cross. Because their parents thought if the person who the kid marries doesn’t join hands the same way, then they are going to be put in hell, realizing not that the life they were living was actually made hell by the stupidity of the choices. They failed at business because they lacked dedication and skills and money too perhaps but that doesn’t make business a bad thing. How’s it then different than being a fox who could get the grapes? The Prime Minister is amazing. Agreed. But making a personal God and believing everything they do or say to be the word of god is the stupidest thing one can ever do. The way to join hands is an agreement that there is something bigger than me in this universe and as long as those terms of agreement change not, there is no matter in how the hands are joined. The person I marry is a human, and what they are like isn’t that more important than how they join hands? So yes, I’m acting like someone else because I’m a different person, an individual who has an independent set of principles and believes. You gave me everything you could and that is something I won’t ever be able to repay you for but I’m not an investment that would mature and give returns. I respect you for the person you are and without you, I perhaps would not have been the person I’m today but I’m not you and I’m not wrong.” the kid stopped.

And this is how I end my story here. I hope you got what it was and if you do I hope you convey it to those in need.

The second reason was because we all love stories.