Hold on, maybe that’s my fault – maybe…..?…HELL…NO

Hold on, maybe
that’s my fault – maybe…..?…HELL…NO
– that’s utterly MY fault. Seems like he won the skirmish, now I perceive what
he used to mumble back then appeared to be quixotic, however. Now seems
pragmatic to me. Now you might be wondering about what I was precisely talking
about in the aforementioned “skirmish”: the verbal quarrels between me and my
dad. We would interminably quarrel about my future decisions –what I would grow
up to be? As a father, being an independent parent, he himself was concerned
about my future plans -how am I going to manage things; how would I react to
new people, situations and surroundings. Feeling insecure, my dad, about how
his son is going to stand up on his own feet and confront this convoluted world,
full of ups and downs, did not want to lose his grip on me.

To my papa I was still a sprouting sapling awaiting the twilight
before the crack of dawn –still trying to figure out my purpose of life. Is it
just to take birth, go school, go college , get a job , get married , get
retired and survive on pension counting the days you have got to live ? This
sort of life is so monotonous, devoid of all the flavors and colors of life -OR
you have another choice to live an audacious and intrepid life. The latter one which
is the devil-may-care kind of life is the life I want to live and I am living
it. Erratic and impulsive, never knowing what’s about to happen; find your own
sixpence and use it at your own disposal to construct a successful life.

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Well if that’s the case then this might seem that I am trying
to defy my own inevitable destiny but to my dad who would want me to walk on a
safer lane and perhaps a more predictable one, which did not please my wit. But
none of my logic seemed plausible to my father, I had told him my desires about
me being independent, trying to manage my daily routines and tasks on my own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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