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Monday, December 8, 2014

TEENAGE ANGST

MAGPIE TALE-6       Evokes Nostalgia
 
Photo by Elene Usdin


In a paroxysm of emotion, she rushed to the basement and banged the door shut behind her.  The storm had raged inside her, because of her parents’ refusal to let her go to a late night party. Wasn’t  this denial absolutely cruel on their part, since it was her first party, with the close knit circle of her friends, she thought. How they had planned it together, secretly and how super excited all were about it! She felt sorry for herself. However, she had never imagined this fall out. The unexpected situation hit her untamed ego like a sudden blow.

She could expect ‘no’ from her mother, but she always knew that her father would override her mom's objections. On previous occasions, her father had always succumbed to her loving blackmailing. However, today it was incomprehensible, her father giving in to her mother's pleas.

In the angst of her mental turmoil-which medical doctors’ attribute to rapid hormonal changes during adolescence- she was indeed mad at her parents. She even used unkind words in her thoughts about them. She didn’t cry but simply wallowed into a state of mind, where one resigns to a certain situation. It must be remarked that her good sense and affectionate upbringing prevented her from out rightly rebelling against her parents will.

Her eyes, however, reflected a profound  sense of sadness on missing a gala evening with her friends. The fear of her friends ridicule disturbed her immensely. She was already spinning some story in her mind to escape humiliation on facing them.  She kept her cell phone switched off.

She lay on the carpeted basement floor and the party scene swam before her eyes. The mental picture of the attendees zestful dancing and youthful laughter pricked her soul. What compounded her woeful spirit was another parallel realization that nobody came down to placate her. She had always believed that throwing tantrums and later cajoled into normalcy, a practice followed by her parents so far, was her undisputed right.

An abrupt knock and sound of hurried footfalls on the stairs breached the track of her sorrowful musings. There stood before her, her dear Dad, with a hugely worried expression, writ large on his face. No words were spoken. The next moment she’s in his arms, the deluge of pent up tears, wetting her father’s bosom.  

Friends,welcome here as always!


5 comments:

  1. Hari Om
    Yikes - tantrums are not pretty!!! Your writing, though, is &*> YAM xx

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  2. Nicely written.....thanks for sharing

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  3. Tantrums - they've always been effective as weapon until one becomes mature. Your post is beautifully written.

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  4. Wonderful contribute to the theme! Nice capture in words on the moment

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