Love's labour never lost

A couple of days ago, while I was waiting at a traffic signal I noticed a thought-provoking bumper sticker on the car in front: "I am a proud parent of a Middle School Honor Roll student." My immediate reaction was bafflement coupled with disdain. I wondered why any parent would want to flaunt a child's achievement so blatantly! "And, should middle school grades matter enough to warrant this kind of bragging?" I muttered to myself, while staring at the sticker.

As these somewhat negative thoughts crossed my mind, I began to recall my own parents' joyful reactions to my seemingly routine accomplishments - my father taking pride in my Mathematics grades (being a Math buff himself) or my mother praising a particular song I sang. However, like most people of their generation, they used subtle words and body language to demonstrate their happiness at my small successes. More importantly, I could feel that their love flowed unconditionally. There were no caveats and expectations that I should surpass my peers in academic performance and no exhortation to meet "publicly stated goals" of excellence.

Parenting is a stressful and selfless task –above all, it's a labour of love. However, over the last couple of decades, social mores have undergone a seismic shift, driven by intense competitive pressures. Today, even four-year old kids need to take entrance tests to qualify for pre-schools. It's not surprising that, given the current dog-eat-dog situation, parents are under tremendous pressure to push their kids to the front lines. Consequently, they often feel compelled to embellish their children's achievements in an effort to give them a head start. Children too are continuously striving to keep up with societal and parental expectations. The result is a higher level of stress in family life.

On reflection, I began to empathise with the parent in the car in front. Perhaps this is a woman who makes three or four trips a day to take her child to the karate class or piano lesson and also cooks dinner for her family. And when her child transits into adulthood and becomes a famous pianist or may be a part-time clerk in a bank, she would hold on to these rare moments of pride and joy. There would be no expectations of gratitude, because parents give unconditionally to their children.

My car passed the "proud mom" and I glanced at her furtively. I wondered if she was on her way to complete yet another tedious chore for her son or daughter. May be to pick up a Halloween costume - an effort that she would make simply to bring a smile on her child's face.  And in return for all the harrowing hours of carting her kid to after-school activities (crucial in today's competitive world), stressing over parent-teacher meetings, biting nails on "Report Card Day", the mom would only get the vicarious pleasure of public acclaim through the bumper sticker. Perhaps this "sticker moment" is all she would receive in return for the gargantuan efforts invested in her child!

In any case, who am I to judge the "proud mother"? The world has changed drastically since our times, given the enormous pressures of keeping a job, caring for kids, commuting long distances and struggling to keep one's head above water. But despite all the changing variables in life's equation, parental love remains a constant. As I reflected on the struggles of parenthood, my heart reached out to the woman in the car. I remembered all the sacrifices my parents had made for me; my eyes welled up with tears at the humble realisation of how little I had given them in return. Like all precious things in life, we never appreciate the true worth of our parents until they are gone. As long as they are around, we tend to forget that they need to be nurtured, cared for or even pampered! Unfortunately, we can never go back in time and re-enter that sacred space to hold their hands and express our regrets about not having given them all that we could have.

Perhaps, some day when we are gone, our children will also gaze at the twilight sky as I am doing now and wonder why they didn't demonstrate their love for their parents more often. But then how can we blame them? They are overwhelmed with the demanding task of tackling the challenges of their children's lives. Just as we were while our parents toiled away to ensure that our lives would be as smooth as possible. 

When my first child was born, my mother told me: "Your happiness will henceforth depend on the smile and frown on your child's face." I am reminded of her words each time I watch my daughter's emotional barometer rise and fall with the smile and frown on her child's face. . .This is how it's meant to be – and always will be.

The writer is a renowned Rabindra Sangeet exponent and former employee of the World Bank. E-mail: shiftingimages@gmail.com