Yes! I AM a bad son!

This happens to me all the time...
And this is obviously not the first time. A typical incident that happened when I visited this forbidden island- Dhanushkodi lately.
Here, now I want something really important to be proposed.
Something which I think, deserves your comments.

Scene 1: The scene at Dhanushkodi:

We were a group of five: Me, my parents, my uncle, and my li'l cousin. As we reached the island, there were remains of the buildings that once adorned the place. People around said the place was devastated by the 1964 cyclone.
I was so attracted by the serenity of the place...
A very few people...
No noises except for the sounds and calls of nature...
There were also a few temporary stalls which sold sea shells, shell arts and other such stuff.

We had a stroll along the beach. And there was a temple. I'm sure it was a temple and sorry I didn't mind to notice the deity there.
Aarti was carried out as I moved on to capture pictures of the ruins and the beach amidst the rain. (I didn't even want to shelter myself from the rain at a temple :-P )
Then yelled my mother, "Cibi! Come make prayers." She cared for me. And wanted me to be fine. Moreover I didn't want to hurt her sentiments saying, "I DON'T want to damn PRAY!".
I moved on to her and she took out some money for me to drop at the temple's drop box which accepts nothing but money and gold.
"Too much for a piece of rock to buy food, Mom", I said to my mother as I winked at my Father.
"Come on son! Just stop doing this! Everytime you blaspheme, I pray to god not to punish you and that's the reason why you're fine. He is the father of everyone here!"
"I don't remember the last time I bought my dad food."
"You're only speaking to disprove whatever I speak. There's no point in it, Cibi.", my Mother ranted.
"Yeah, Mom! There's no point in it!"

As we stalked, these kids they approached us, marketing their sea shells. Those sea shells had nothing special in them. Those were just simple sea shells. I can say this so confidently since I grew up going to the beach at least once in two weeks, and collecting sea shells had been a hobby to me, my cousins and my aunt. And we always come up collecting whatever we thought were sea shells. Aunt used to select a few of them to adorn her fish tank. But those shells these kids sold were something better than what we, as kids always came up with. They knew which shells might attract the tourists; which were worth selling.

Moreover, something which I found so important to be mentioned: They believed in WORK; they knew work always pays;
They knew, they had to work to earn money; they knew they needed money to buy them what they needed. (Although I'm sure, all they needed was food.)
I wanted my father to buy me all those sea shells. He pointed towards mother, as all our wallets were stuck in her hand bag, since we were in dhotis.
She reluctantly opened up her hand bag and pulled out Rs. 40 from a wallet. (It vividly isn't a matter to be considered whether the rupees were pulled out of my wallet or dad's one, since my wallet is filled by my dad always :-P )
I demanded Rs. 40 more, seeing the glad faces of the successful sellers, so that I can make the other marketers glad too :)
But my mom denied my request, saying that is enough for them. She finally added, "Ask them if they're ready to sell it for Rs. 10"
I couldn't get her point there, "What? You buy for Rs. 40 from the other two kids and for Rs. 10 from these two kids? This is unfair!", I exclaimed.
The conversation got heftier as time proceeded. And I eventually had to hold back tears when I finally could convince her buy them.
Those kids were happy then. They all smiled in gratitude. I wanted to capture their smiles in my Canon and I did.

The scene ends here.

Scene 2: The scene at our drive back.

"You see, that kid was not ready to sell the shells for Rs. 10 anyway, how cunning?", My mom asked.
And I was like, "Excuse me? Did I really hear you say that?"
"Yeah, the kid was cunning and that's the reason why she didn't sell for Rs. 10"
"Oh! Is that so? I'm afraid I thought you were cunning since you were partial to that kid. You bought for Rs. 40 with each at Rs. 20 from the first two kids, and wanted these two kids to sell the same stuff to you on Rs. 10 each.", I ranted.
"Yes! I'm cunning, right? See, now he supports those kids in the street and his own mom is cunning to him!", my mom complained to my dad!
"Yeah, you mean, whatever you do is the correct thing, fine? And whatever the 'other' people do is wrong? And you brought me up, making me apply the same syllogism everywhere! You taught me things bad! You wanted me to praise anything that was mine! You didn't let me analyze and understand which was worth praising! Simply, anything which you belong with, IS the best. And because we are Hindu, the Christian prayers and rituals are ridiculous? On the other hand, if we are Christian, the Hindu rituals must sound ridiculous to us right? I find both equally ridiculous when those kids were left astray!", I yelled as I failed controlling my temper.
"You are really a bad son. You are disobedient. You don't know how to respect your parents! Now others have become respectful to you that you're not able to respect your own parents!"
"Yeah mom, I AM A BAD SON! And don't try to generalize anything with the term 'parents', I didn't mean dad anywhere!", I said in an active tone.
"Yeah mom, I AM A BAD SON!", I repeated to end the conversation.







Yeah now, I am a bad son, ain't I?