Indian relatives are one of a kind. We love to hate each other and hate to love each other. We like to stay in touch with everyone, uncle’s daughter’s son, father’s mother’s brother’s son, aunt’s sister’s daughter’s son. Basically everyone!
But how real are these connections. In my experience, even the closest ones hardly care and are competitive, picky, egoistic, envious, cheapskate let alone the distant ones. Let’s just say it is a fictional poem (NOT). But, having said that, I also believe that not everyone is like that. Some are really caring, appreciative and supportive (SOME= A FEW).
Mostly families are a circle of strength and love,
there is nothing beyond each other and above.
This circle of love grows and flourishes together,
and becomes a crown full of colourful feathers.
They live and love, always showing they care,
through good times and bad, together they share.
But my relatives are beautiful and one of a kind,
one who keep oneself above always, are unfeigned.
Relatives that guide you wrong and bash others,
who need them anyway, will have my druthers.
They talk as if they know you well and cherish,
but point out all wrongs, magnify your blemish.
Never stand for you, whenever you need them,
torment and trouble, time should fate condemn.
There always be people who will treat you wrong,
turn around to thank them for making you strong.
Don’t sweat for those who act like you don’t matter,
prove them wrong and show they mere shatter.