to have a kid is sort of a marginally terrifying concept. for one thing, i dont believe that unconditional love exists. all love is conditional. parents' love- the good ones, that is- probably stretches beyond its limits for the most part but still. i'm terrified of having a kid for a multitude of reasons.for instance- what would i do if i had a kid who didn't read? a kid who didn't like music or a kid who only liked top 40? the other day i was talking to a classmate and i asked her what kinda music she was into. her reply was something along the lines of..."i dunno. whatever's on the radio i guess. i don't really have one". i can have friends who are that way but never really identify with them. but if i had a kid who was like that i couldn't really segregate them into "nice but nah" into my head. what if i had a kid who was mean? just plain all out mean. or one without a sense of humour. or dumb? it's scary. apart from all the ways in which you'd probably fuck up your kid, there's all the ways that they will find to fuck you up. what if i had a kid who was into mindless gossip. who didn't like webcomics, who didn't like sports, who didn't like leather sofas or the wonderful feeling of sinking into a plush bed with crisp white linen sheets and plump fluffy pillows? what if i had a kid without feelings, without imagination? what if i had a dull boring kid? who didn't have dreams but cared only about money? what if (s)he was average? and content with mediocrity? it's so terrifying, i almost understand the concept of designer babies, perverse as it is. it's incredible to think about, but somehow the world has been carrying on this way unremarkably for ages. inconspicuously. parents pumping out kids who then pump out their own kids. and the world keeps spinning on its axis, with the exception of the few parents who freeze/ burn/ kill their kids. but i'm not assuming that they're sane, so they don't really count. it's crazy really, when i think about it. how on earth did my parents manage to love me through all the times that i was a disappointment to their hopes and dreams, or what they thought was apt, or ...i dunno. it's nuts. just madly madly nuts. if i were to have a kid, i would love to be there for them always. to introduce them to harry potter and roald dahl, and lemony snicket and watch their eyes sparkle. i would love to see them sit in a corner, absorbed in a book, forgetting time and place and the need to do Anything else. i should love to see them be rational and logical, winning debates. i would be there each time my kid scraped his knees, falling off a tree. and i would applaud as he kept running a race with bleeding knees just because he was obstinate enough to do so. i would bake them the world's most chocolatey melted fudge cake and curse the loser who dumped them. and i would bleed quiet tears for them inside my heart. i'd talk to them about politics and tell them about the glorious indian freedom struggle. i'd introduce them to the horrors of the holocaust and make them watch schindler's list. i'd see them realize that adverse conditions bring out the essential goodness in even the most self absorbed human beings. i'd nourish their faith in innate goodness of humanity and i'd rejoice as they went about life being decent caring individuals. i'd take them to the beach and we'd make sandcastles, and watch them be swept away by the tide. i'd explain how time changes everything and one of the saddest and the best parts of life was that nothing is static, everything is fluid. i'd push them on the swing and scare them enough so that they didn't try to leap out of it and break their heads. i'd push them through the boring, the frustratingly mundane aspects of student life. i'd teach them to view education and good grades as keys and tools to a better life. i'd try to make sure that they were educated in the truest sense of the term. i'd like to see them nurse an intense love for a subject and grow up to pursue it. i'd take them travelling on a whim. we'd run off to dusty roads and trail paths in little lost beaches, stopping for ice cream along the way. we'd get a beautifully mischievous dog and romp around with it in the backyard. i'd watch them grow up and hope that they wouldn't grow away. i'd watch gilmore girls and friends with them. i'd hope that they would teach me new things. i'd hope that they would understand that i was imperfect but i was only doing my best and that i loved them very much inspite of it all. i'd try to keep my temper and never ever strike them. if i ever did, i'd hope that they'd forgive me. and i would make it up to them a thousandfold. in all this, i'd hope that when they grew up, we wouldn't grow apart. and i'd hope that they'd love me as a person and not just as mum. i'd love to have kids for the love of all this stuff, but that's the easy part, innit? i'd want to not give up working for any longer than absolutely necessary. i'd want to travel as much as i could. i'd want to keep being a nomad, and in the way that i was brought up, i'd hope that my kids could find a way to put down roots, despite travelling and meeting a hundred different types of people. i'd want to work in different places and see the world as much as i could and do as much as i could with the tiny insignificant body i've been given. how to reconcile being a mother and a nomad?
i don't know. but i hope that one day i'll be able to do it.
i don't know. but i hope that one day i'll be able to do it.
