Enigma of my Parents!

They were at it again. Screaming, shrieking, getting all hysterical, blaming, cursing, I poured my eyes into the open notebook, scribbling, trying to care less. The fight was about the usual stuff; our help, whom I called and felt my Pishi (bua), their respective families, and their careers. Not that I’m interested; I have just turned into a teen; my friends, gadgets, and yes, homework eat away a major chunk of my time. But they wouldn’t keep it to themselves, they’d hunt the house wild! Pishi was quiet as well, trying to pour herself into her mobile.

Well, this isn’t the first time, of course. I’m used to this since I’ve learnt to remember. I used to be scared stiff looking at their fight and scream. Someone had told me about divorce, but the point is I didn’t need anyone to. They’d scream divorce, divorce, and I was at my wit’s end. If they get divorced, what would happen to me? Would I shuttle between one home to another? People say I’m an introvert and the images would play with me like a horror flick. I would put up a bold face and try to smile and ignore. But the problem was that it wasn’t always like that. They were happy and friendly at other times. They’d love, play, and splurge me with toys. Maa would read to me; Baba would take me out cycling and swimming. We’d go to movies and malls; I was allowed play dates; Maa wouldn’t interfere much except for my excessive bingeing on the iPad; Baba as well; they’d laugh, chill, and have a good time.

For many years, I lived with the terror of an upcoming divorce, my ensuing fate, and nightmares. Maa used to ask me sometimes, “Are you scared when we fight?”

“Wouldn’t I be… have you seen how you two scream?”

She was embarrassed sometimes, and said, “Sorry baby, we didn’t mean it.”

She didn’t have much justification. She would try to apologise, reason it out.

‘We don’t always fight; we are friends sometimes. ‘I wasn’t sure whom she was trying to convince.

I was growing up. My world was expanding. I tried to ignore their battles because I was almost used to the gross display they had at home. Maybe in the back of my mind, I knew the proposed divorce was just a bluff they used, and who cares? But then I did. Having a boyfriend, husband, or kid was not at all on my bucket list. Being single was something I craved, with the little understanding I had. When Maa and Pishi would tease me sometimes about my house, my kids, my spouse… I had learnt to speak up.

“Maa, no marriage for me.”

On being coaxed, I had to be upright.

‘Have you heard yourself fight?” I have and after that, I have no intention of getting married.’

Maa used to be visibly embarrassed…

‘Don’t you see…we’re friends…occasionally?

Sometimes!!! ‘

That “sometimes” was frequent at times and extremely rare at others. They were at loggerheads once again: divorce, separation.

As irritating as it may sound, one or the other might break into laughter after some time. They would revel in the way they fought over such trivial matters.

Huh, my parents! From tearing each other out to being a little friendly at times, hardly romantic I can call them, to the parents who would sit and wait for my fever to recede, plan each detail for my birthday, never failing to surprise me!

Maa, Baba yes marriage might not be a smooth ride and maybe irrelevant till the time I grow up. From what I saw I wouldn’t like to tread that path may be but is that how you two are tuned…to fight, blast, make up and fight again! I still don’t get it though but somehow know you two are going to get through it and in fact, get through happily!

Soma Bhattacharjee