01.

"Emotions are one of the many things that make a human whole."

Without it, a person is nothing more than a shell, a zombie, or a dead body. It's so important to express yourself out loud, whether you are an introvert or an extrovert. Suppressing your emotions leads to an outburst that destroys everything around you and yourself.

And in my family, there is no concept of suppression of emotion; we all blow like live bombs anytime, anywhere. But there is still so much emotion around us that it feels suffocating at times.

At times, I have even thought of running away, but then I don't want to be a disappointment to my parents or my family. Consider me to be a scaredy cat or anything else for that matter.

Being raised in an Indian household, particularly a South Indian household, is a difficult task that is assigned to you from birth.

It's just like a pot that can never be filled.

Just be on your toes forever.

I just can't. The disappointed look my mom gives me is just too much.

What did I even do?

Nothing, absolutely nothing, yet I still must be the one to bear all her anger and frustrations.

Sunday morning, I woke up at 8:30 a.m. Was that ever a problem for my grandmother?

No. But why does she have to be this rude suddenly today?

It was my dodda (grandma) who was murmuring curses at some anonymous person, and my amma thought that it was a taunt to her. But, seriously, do I have to be her outlet for her rage?

Don't think I'm wrong, people; my amma is a very sweet, headstrong, and blunt lady, but she always loses it when Dodda does something like that, and I am always a scapegoat for her.

But I still adore her. She listens to all my blabber, all my complaints, and even gives me good advice, but sometimes I do think that she is just trying to show others that even though she has not studied that much, I, her daughter, am a big brain, which I'm not.

Don't get me wrong, she can do it, but she also needs to understand that it puts pressure on me. I must always be on my toes to answer any question thrown at me or any information asked, and mind you, there are plenty of them!

And my dodda is a very different person; she is also sweet and nice, but if angered, the opposite person will just have to kill themselves after listening to all her words. She is the sweetest until she reveals her thoughts and the happenings in her life, she always keeps her head high like a queen and tries to show off, which ticks off others, especially my uncles and my amma.

This is always the reason for the arguments that occur, and I am always crushed by them. It somehow always ends with me in the middle -how they struggled to feed me, clothe me, and help find a decent job for my papa. I try to be cheerful no matter what, even if they think I'm just a family joker; I try to forget all the harsh words thrown at me, and all the insults are thrown at my father, but it always gets to me.

"But amma, it was the usual time that I woke up on Sundays," I say without making eye contact. Amma slowly turns around and says, "Do not try to argue, Kriti! I am done being your servant, try respecting my words as your mother for once!" She shouts, and that hurts. I know she is angry, but I never saw my amma as my servant. My love for her is never enough for her to calm down.

I go to my room, trying hard not to cry, and start with my assignment. The door opens, and Arun, my brother, comes near my bed, "Akka, don't cry." And the waterfall begins. It has always been that way.

We all struggle as human beings in our lives, and then we climb the steps to happiness. But in my family, it seems like the struggle defines and even dictates who we are. My family had always been on an emotional roller coaster. One storm comes in, essentially destroying our relaxed moments, and just when things appear to be holding together, another one arrives, and apparently, we have never taken a break from the routine.

Going with the flow can never match my family; it is a battlefield for us.

Any sort of calculation, planning, or calmness seems not to work.