Pocket-SizedDreams

My daily ritual begins with the familiar hustle of departures: backpacks slung, lunches packed, and farewells exchanged. Then that quiet wraps around me like a comforting cloak. My day starts with the best thing ever: a perfectly spiced chai, warming me like sunshine. The steam puffs up, carrying the sweet scent of cardamom and the spicy warmth of ginger. I close my eyes and breathe it all in, savoring the moment. It is more than just chai; it’s my chance to hit pause, connect with myself, and appreciate the stillness. This “me-time” is what makes my day feel complete.

I may be slightly addicted to the warm hug of a perfectly spiced chai. But hey, who is not?

It was not just the familiar aroma of my morning chai, but a time machine hurtling me back to my childhood in Walwad. Do certain smells ever paint entire worlds for you? For me, they do. As someone who likes being alone, I feel comfort in the endless world of my thoughts. These thoughts are like a cozy emotional blanket that wraps around me, making me feel safe and content. And I am so proud of that.

Life in our small village was not calm and serene, but more like an adventurous tale colored with limited resources and opportunities. I often refer to them as ‘Pocket-sized dreams’—those  aspirations that initially sprouted during my younger years. Even now, as a mom, they persist, staying true to their pocket-sized nature. The endless stretch of dusty roads under the sun, the climb of rusty water tankers with bare hands, nights wrapped in darkness because of no power – these are the memories etched in my mind, symbols of the countless hurdles I’ve cleared, My journey, from that adventurous small-town girl to the mom I am today, has been a story shaped by challenges and resilience.

In our tiny village, the idea of pursuing higher education was rare. Facing financial challenges, especially when it comes to paying higher education fees, and dealing with old-fashioned, orthodox views were big obstacles for me. This made me understand the challenges that come with limited opportunities and scarce resources in rural areas. Learning from those tough times and finding joy in simple things like climbing water tankers has not only shaped me physically as strong and sporty but also as someone ready for any challenge. However, the lack of exposure to a highly educated world and the confidence that comes with a higher education leave me feeling uncertain in a society that values degrees. That one thought keeps bothering me: Why did this happen to me? Why couldn’t my parents help me get a student loan? How do I shake off that feeling that has been with me since the day I decided to let go of the dream of an engineering degree and was left crying and pleading for a chance?

Now Motherhood feels like a tightrope walk. One side holds the burning desire to give my son everything I never had, while the other whispers fears of resentment in the future. I push him, sometimes against his will, fueled by the ghost of my own struggles. It’s an ironic dance, this cycle of wanting to protect him from my pain while using it as my guide. It’s messy, and confusing, and maybe, just maybe, there’s a better way.

Do other parents out there walk this tightrope too? One hand clinging to dreams for our children, the other trembling with the fear of blame.

My own childhood paints a map, but is it the right one for him? This dance between ambition and fear, hope and regret, leaves me lost in a maze of “what ifs.” It’s time to stop walking blindly and start searching for answers, for him and for me.

I eventually realize that blaming my parents for the lack of opportunities in my childhood is not the solution. I don’t want to, but somehow I end up doing that when I face rejections and struggles in my professional journey. They did their best with the resources they had. The circumstances were tough, but their love and resilience were stronger. Parenting is indeed a tough road. It requires finding a balance between providing guidance and allowing our children the freedom to discover their own paths.

The blame game only perpetuates the cycle of unfulfilled dreams. Instead, I choose to focus on breaking that cycle for my son. I am honestly trying. I want to be the bridge between the challenges of my past and the opportunities of his future. Education, not just in books but in life lessons, becomes my gift to him—a gift that goes beyond degrees and qualifications.

Motherhood is everything I dreamed of, with a touch of worry. I never learned music, but I want my son to explore his passions. His spark ignites mine – dreams are for chasing! He sees it too, his eyes lighting up with music. Within months, he surprised me with a wobbly “Happy Birthday” on guitar, a testament to his potential. Now, his joyful laughter echoes on the soccer field. I encourage him to explore, not to erase my regrets, but to ignite his own passions and chase dreams with limitless skies.

Growing up in Walwad was not easy. While there were not many chances, like in the city, it made me tough and able to handle anything. Now, being a mom myself, a tiny fear sometimes pops up. Thinking back, I realize blaming my parents would never help. They did their best with what they had. Things were hard, but their love and strength were even stronger. Being a parent is not about making our kids live our dreams; it is about helping them find their own.

The world is changing so fast, and machines are getting smarter every day. Sometimes, when I look back at my life, I wonder if my experiences even matter anymore. Maybe those things aren’t just about the past; maybe they’re about the future too. Maybe my job isn’t to simply copy my past onto my son, but to give him the tools he needs to build his own future, just like I am building mine.

There will be challenges, that’s for sure. But seeing the spark in my son’s eyes, I know one thing: we’ll face them together, hand in hand, discovering our own paths along the way. He’ll carry the strength I learned from my past. That’s my greatest gift to him and greatest gift to my Pocket Sizes dreams..!!!

Do you have your own pocket-sized dreams waiting to be discovered? I’d love to hear yours too! Sharing stories inspires us all, and maybe your story will spark a new pocket-sized dream for me.