Empty Nest Syndrome

(In Times of India- Soul Curry)

I could not comprehend the  implications of  the phrase 'Empty Nest Syndrome' until  my only son left home for his engineering college. Of course, I knew that once he left, we will miss him.  But I had not bargained for what came thereafter. It wasn't easy to accept the quiet, deserted, empty environs of a home that once reverberated with music and chatter. More so, as we are a family of three .

On receiving a letter from his college confirming admission, there were exuberant celebrations in the family. My son was happy. He was looking forward to fueling his dreams of a bright future. I was engulfed by a sense of relief .No more tuitions, no more parent teacher meetings and no more board exams.
The lurking fear of an ‘Empty Nest’ did not surface amidst all the congratulatory messages that poured in. Perhaps, I was consciously trying to avoid the reality.

Anxiety crept in as I started to pack bags for his hostel life. I went through a roller coaster ride of an entire gamut of emotions from anxiety to emptiness. I was worried about the scare of ragging, the insipid hostel food, his unknown room mates and the pressures of work load.

Before leaving, I asked him “Are you excited about going to a hostel”? I was hoping for, “No mom, I don't want to go. I wish could stay at home.”

I realized, he was being polite when he casually said, “Ya, kind of."
He was looking forward to taste freedom and independence, for there is nothing wrong with experiencing life. Growth is a process of trial and error: Experimentation.

The toughest moment was, when I had to say goodbye to him - at the hostel gate.The deluge of emotions were no different from the ones I felt while sending him to a kinder garden fourteen years ago. Then, at age four, he was clinging on to my saree - not wanting to be left alone. At seventeen, he was comforting me. ‘I will be fine ma, you take care’, he said. The tenderness of that moment will always be etched in my mind.

Once we returned home all the anxiety settled down as emptiness. I and my husband have accepted the dull, lifeless atmosphere of our home. A home that used to reverberate with sounds of loud music, incessant chatter of youth and the aromas of pizzas and burgers. The refrigerator is no more stocked with chocolates and ice creams.  The house is no more littered with clothes, shoes or bags. Monthly arguments regarding his disheveled clothes and overdue haircut now transpire only during semester breaks.
Now when I call my son, I can overhear friends around him. Away from home, friends are the strongest support system he has. It has been six months since Goutam left. He  has settled down well.  He has new friends, he is participating in various fests and is busy finishing his assignments. I have learnt to deal with the solitude and a quiet home.

The fact that my child is happy has motivated me to accept the plan of life. I have reconciled to the fact, that he is away from home to weave his own dreams. To pursue his own destiny.
This is also a time to expand my mind and spirit by indulging in my hobbies. I have decided to pursue reading, writing, educating other kids, and doing things which I was not able to do before due to constraint of time.
Now is the time for personal renewal, to stop cribbing about what I don’t have and to make the most of everything I have. Of course, I look forward to the semester breaks when we can all be together as a family.

http://readerspost.femina.in/expressions/two-tear-drops/

Featured in Femina “Two tear
drops” has been featured in our ‘READERS POST’ section on the site.

Here is the link to my article:

http://readerspost.femina.in/expressions/two-tear-drops/

It has been a decade. The news paper clipping of TOI, carefully cut from The Speaking Tree column lies in my diary. It had a short, simple, yet thought-provoking story.

Once, two tear drops were floating down the river of life. One teardrop asked, “Who are you?” The first one replied, “I was shed by a girl who loved a man but lost him. And who are you?” The other tear drop replied, “I was shed by the girl who got him.”

Come to think of it, we cry over what we lose and often cry over what we gain. Always in the pursuit of some more… more wealth, more comfort, more assets… It’s ironical that we live in a world of ‘Yeh Dil Maange More’ and yet, this very feeling lays the foundation for discontentment.

Recently my childhood friend came over for dinner and we chatted till wee hours in the morning. My friend has a comfortable life, a loving husband and two adorable daughters. Yet, her search for that elusive feeling called ‘Happiness’ continues. In her world of a loving husband, adorable daughters and an easy life, the disruption comes from relatives, neighbors and colleagues who are presumably enjoying life more than her. In some obscure way she feels, she deserves more. More than others… My friend was particularly upset that her neighbor had gone for a vacation to Australia but she herself never had an opportunity to travel abroad. “What’s the point of having a passport,” she cribbed, “haven’t stepped out of India. Not even to Nepal.”

Her self-inflicted predicament heightened, as she imagined her neighbors on a sun kissed beach, scuba diving and shopping to their heart’s content. What she failed to register was the fact that the couple had no children. And it’s quite possible that the couple vacationing on Australia’s golden beaches was sulking and wishing that they had the company of wonderful daughters, like my friend.

 As for my friend, there were several other reasons for her anguish. Like the fact that her cousin was offered a senior position by a reputed company. It bothered her. She repeated, “He’s so lucky. I wish I had such luck.”

That success or good fortune does not always go to those who deserve, is known. Destiny plays an important role. Also, my friend’s cousin with the enviable job offer suffers from several health issues. Yet his health related struggles were invisible to my friend. The only thing visible was power and its attendant wealth.

Now I can’t accuse her of naiveté. Understandably so, at some point or the other we all feel, “Why him, why not me?” Right from the moment we seek admission in kindergarten the competition begins. The race to the finish consumes us at every step of our lives.  It reaches a crescendo when we appear for the board exams.

I saw it happening when my son appeared for his competitive exams. Those who could not get an engineering seat were obviously dejected. And those who couldn’t clear the heavenly gates of IIT were disheartened. Surprisingly, those who got admission in the hallowed precincts were disappointed too. Some thought maybe if they had tried harder they could be at IIT Mumbai and not IIT Guwahati. Finally, there was a boy who got IIT Mumbai, yet wanted to go abroad for further studies. For many, the entire exercise was a series of never ending disappointments.

At the end of the day, who knows that some student unable to secure any engineering seat might emerge as a leading businessman and make more money than the rest of the engineers? Or the one, who finally got a seat at Harvard, might end up in a loveless marriage.

In any way I am not implying that ambition is unwarranted. Ambition is good; but hopeless infatuation with all the good that’s happening in the lives of others is not. The constant struggle that ensues in the mind is a duel between the perception of what is and how it ought to be.

The key is to be grateful for all the miracles in your life. Look around and feel the magic. Life is not as ordinary as it seems. Every so-called ordinary day is extraordinary. A magical one! The important thing is to take notice and feel grateful.