In the dimly lit corner of a modest tea stall in Srinagar, nestled between quiet lanes and the cold breeze of a fading winter, I met a boy whose story has stayed with me like an echo. He was soft-spoken, barely 21, with eyes that carried the weight of a thousand unsaid words. What began as small talk turned into an hour-long conversation about life, expectations, and dreams—dreams that were buried long before they had a chance to bloom.
He didn’t tell me his name, and I didn’t ask. Some stories feel too fragile for details.
As a child, he loved to draw. Sketchbooks were his best friends, and even his school notebooks had more art than answers. But as he grew older, the world around him became less forgiving of those dreams. His parents, both well-educated and respected in their circles, had made up their minds—art was a hobby, not a future. Engineering was the only path worth walking.
So, he walked it. Not because he wanted to, but because saying no wasn’t an option. His pencils were traded for physics formulas, his sketches replaced by mock tests. Today, he has a degree that means nothing to him, and a job that pays—but doesn’t fulfill.
“I still draw sometimes,” he said quietly, eyes fixed on the table, “but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. It’s like I lost something along the way.”
And he’s not alone.
All across India, especially in middle-class homes, children are growing up under the heavy burden of dreams that aren’t their own. In the name of love and care, many parents unintentionally become the biggest source of pressure. They push, they compare, they control—believing that it's for the child’s own good. But in doing so, they often silence the child’s voice entirely.
The problem isn’t new. Indian parenting has long been rooted in discipline, obedience, and sacrifice. But in today’s fast-changing world, that model is beginning to crack. Children today are more aware, more expressive, and more connected than ever before. They don’t just want to survive—they want to live, to create, to explore.
Yet, the moment a child shows interest in music, art, writing, or sports, many parents panic. “There’s no future in this,” they say. “Who will marry you?” “What will people say?” These words, repeated often enough, become chains. And slowly, dreams die quiet deaths in bedrooms across the country.
The result? Anxiety. Depression. Loneliness. India has seen an alarming rise in mental health issues among teenagers and young adults. We often blame social media or peer pressure, but what about the pressure that starts at home?
And it’s not always about careers. Sometimes it’s about choice—what to wear, whom to befriend, when to speak. Some children grow up in homes where love feels like a transaction: follow the rules, and you’re loved. Disobey, and the warmth disappears.
It’s time we talk honestly about this.
Being a parent is hard. There’s no manual, no one-size-fits-all solution. Every parent wants the best for their child. But wanting the best doesn’t mean knowing the best. And love should never feel like control.
So, what can parents do differently?
- Start with listening. Really listening. Without judgment. Without the urge to interrupt or correct.
- Let your child fail. Mistakes are not a sign of weakness. They’re how people grow.
- Support, don’t dictate. Guide your child, offer your wisdom—but let them make their own choices.
- Respect their individuality. Your child is not your copy. They are their own person, with their own thoughts and desires.
- Normalize conversations about feelings. Sadness, fear, confusion—these are not signs of weakness. They’re signs of being human.
Above all, remember this: your child’s life is not your second chance.
The boy I met in Srinagar is trying to piece himself back together. Maybe one day, he’ll draw again with the same fire he had as a child. Maybe he won’t. But there are thousands like him—boys and girls whose lives could change if only their parents paused to truly understand them.
Parenting is not about perfect children. It’s about raising happy, confident, self-aware human beings.
So, let love be the light that guides your child—not the weight that breaks their wings.