The Little Sweatshop of Thoughts

spent the afternoon watching the tv show, brothers and sisters, online. so i finished the first season, with a happy sort of feeling; with a sort of satisfaction that the show had the right mix of reality and that extra bit of something, which i am glad exists only in the reel world.

and it got me thinking about, family. the one word that brings up both extreme feelings of intense hate and love. i don’t have an enormous family like in the show but i think the five of us provide enough drama to keep our relationships zinging. the older we get, the more we start understanding everyone’s idiosyncrasies and imperfections, and perhaps get a bit closer to knowing them for who they really are.

and when i put the tv show in context with what happens in my life with my extended family – the tv-like drama seems so much more probable. my mother’s weekly phone conversations with them back in india allows us to be connected in the most disconnected way. those 100 minute calling cards keep the madness, the sadness and the irrational bouts of love and hate between us alive. we enjoy having armchair opinions on their lifestyles, their indiscretions and their ‘close-mindedness’ through our ‘enriched world views’. yet, sometimes we yearn for the little bits of indian family insanity that calls to us when we get tired of our singaporean mundanity. but, we double back later and breathe easy that we are happy here in non-judgemental singapore, doing our own things with the people we choose to, just because we can.

it’s quite complicated and at times, even a bit schizoprenic. but we straddle both worlds, somehow. and i think that’s what makes these bonds with them so special and sacred, ‘cos no one will understand me quite as much as the way they will.

so there you have it. my family and my anchor to reality.