Growing up, I had friends from various age-groups in the school. Somehow, I always preferred the companies of boys over the girls. This was for one obvious reason – gossiping was a serious no-no for me always. And hence friendship worked out better with the boys. Somehow, I felt that the boys around me talked of more sensible things. And that kept me sane!

There was this Bengali girl, about seven years junior to me. She would always run to me and sit in my lap in the school bus. Sharing chocolates and sweet conversations made the 45 minute bus-ride on the bumpy Hyderabad roads more enjoyable. We lost touch once I passed high-school. Even then her beautiful face and sweet Bengali accent remained etched in my memory for long. Should I say, ‘I missed her, sometimes’?

I have always hated those parties where fake socializing and networking happens. I have been disinterested in them as much as I was in gossiping and bitching back then in school and college. I was forced into attending one such party recently. Sitting in a corner, sipping my drink, I was waiting for my husband to finish with his ‘Hi-s’ and “Hello-s”. On my way to the washroom, I ran into this woman trying to preach her child’s nanny over the phone. I saw her and immediately recognised that beautiful face.

Ten minutes from thence, I was comfortably sitting on a couch with Deboshree, the junior from school I was so fond of. I realised more than ever, how much I detested one way conversations, more so, when it was to be with an obsessive parent.

I was made to go through various pictures of Deboshree’s son on Facebook and Instagram. Deboshree’s honey-bunny was easily searchable over social media. Every milestone was celebrated with pomp and show. Every birthday was a grand affair. Early education was imposed on the child and the progress was thoroughly monitored and scrutinised.

Just when I realised that my headache (developing out of the discussion I was detesting) was worsening and I could suffer a severe attack of migraine, hubby walked in, and I could heave a proverbial sigh of relief. I tried moving out of there as soon as possible when I ran into a group of batch-mates from college. To my disbelief, the discussion here was no different. The topics were similar, only the obsession level of every mother differed.

Totally exhausted, on my way back home, many thoughts kept lingering in my mind. Parenting, today, has undergone a dramatic change. Parents have become more obsessive about their kids and their overall image in the society. The biggest challenge for these urban parents is to decide as to how much of anything is too much.

What are your thoughts on the same? Do you have such obsessive parents around you? Do you have any advice to offer to them? How do you deal with them?

 

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