famished for meaning

i read a fantastic book (the kite runner) over the weekend…i actually had to skip work on saturday, because i didn’t sleep till seven in the morning - it was one of those books that i couldn’t put down.

immediately after, i looked up reviews of it online. i was slightly depressed to read the criticism, a lot of which was admittedly well-deserved: “contrived”, “implausible plot turns”, “cliched”, “whiny, pathetic hero”, etc. and of course, the timing - shortly on the heels of the war on afghanistan, a touching story about an afghani boy is told. charming.

i still loved it though.

there are few things comparable to being absorbed completely in someone else’s world, via visuals or words. selfishly, it helps us forget or mimizes our problems, for the problems worthy of being communicated through film and books are often far bigger than a bad hair day or a job one hates.

the book revolved around two childhood friends and one’s desperation to earn his father’s love and approval. he was willing to go to any length for it, and he did. and he got what he wanted but it didn’t feel as good as it should have, because of the cost he paid for it.

i think almost everyone can relate to wanting to make the parents feel proud, happy and make them love us.

i think i am still doing it.

i realized, with quite a shock last night, that almost all of my desire to settle down had to do with the look i imagined on my parents faces, on hearing the news. while quite unlike most paki parents, they haven’t paired me off with someone yet, nor tried to arrange any marriage, i know that it is right there…they want to see their kids ’settled’ before the end of their lives. and while i don’t really want to marry, nor believe that it could last forever (for me), sometimes, i know that i would do it, simply to please them.

so much in my life revolves around pleasing them…

i am still living with them, primarily because of that hurt look i’ll get if i tell them i am moving out.

i have started to chase huge commissions and paychecks, only to ensure that my parents never have to worry about money, as they grow older. i want to see them taking vacations, buying their dream cars and house, playing golf and enjoying their years, not having to worry about a thing.

almost all my focus, as i grow older, is on making them happy. and it is not in a self-sacrifical, noble, holier than thou way. it’s just in a laid back, ‘i am doing this because i want to, because they deserve it’ kinda way.

i want to be the best daughter…i have their love and affection and the thought of losing it terrifies me.

i suppose that’s why i could relate to the little boy in the book, who did quite a horrible thing, just because his fathers love was more important to him, than anything else in the world.

i question myself often though…am i just hiding behind my parents and their goals? i even wonder whether i will end up hating them for the amount of influence they unknowingly exert on each decision of mine.

may be in a couple of decades, i will regret all that i did, but for now, it just feels right.

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also, on another note, i haven’t been posting much because i am suffering from the “shit, i am growing a year older” blues. the big day is only three days away and i’m depressed…i was supposed to be in amsterdam or anywhere else. however, obviously, due to my laziness and that of those who were supposed to accompany me, it never panned out. and i am stuck with the same superficial crew that i don’t really want to be with, but HAVE to invite. i wish my blog/virtual friends, who feel more real than the real life friends i have, were here…

if i write in the next few days, it is ONLY going to be to whine excessively, like a li’l bitch.

consider yourself warned.