The view from here: ramblings of an "only child"

Before I say anything I'd like to say that I am the only offspring of my parents and everything I say here is my personal opinion and may not agree with a lot of people.

So, why is it important to have more than one child? For one it makes the child a little less selfish. Now before any one of you fly off the handle protesting what a selfless "only child" you were, or start nodding your head in absolute agreement remembering the disgustingly selfish "only child" you knew in school, I'd like to say that I'm talking about something that is relative. I mean everyone is selfish to a slight extent. We do think about ourselves a lot and what we like and don't like. So everyone's entitled to be a little selfish. We owe it to ourselves. But what I'm talking about here is the way the "only child" views things.

Unlike what most people think an "only child" does not think that the sun, the moon and the stars revolve around him/ her and do not always demand for the very best. That I think is a personal trait and I know many kids who have siblings but are known to be more demanding than others. But when you have one child the kid grows up being a little bit more possessive about his/ her things than the other kids around. I'll tell you a little incident about myself and how I learnt to recognize the possessive streak in me. This was the time when I was getting out of school and starting to go to college. My Dad told me about this young girl who had completed her Medical degree and had started working with him to train to be a gynecologist. Both my parents were in praises about how nice this girl was and how she wanted to be friends with me. Now all my life I have had my parents all to myself and for the strangest reasons took an instant dislike to this intruder whom I had never seen nor met, but who seemed to be taking away a part of my parent's affection that was rightfully mine. Her name was US. For the next couple of months all I heard was US did this and US did that and how well she was doing and how great she was. And I hated her more everyday and did my best not to meet her by staying out late if I knew she would coming over. And then oneday we did meet. She had come over to show my Dad some lab reports. And she stopped by my room to talk to me. And we talked. For hours. It was like I met a long-lost friend. The sister I never had. I absolutely loved her. She was bright, she was pretty and she had the most endearing nature. I knew instantly why my parents were so enchanted by her. Over the next few months US and I became really good friends. She would come over every afternoon to chat with me. And we'd talk about life, studies, boys. She knew every little thing that was happening in my life and I knew everything that had ever happened to her. I was so ashamed of myself for having shut her out of my life for all that time while she was trying her hardest to be friends. She saw me through all my frustrations, my truimphs and failures, my difficult college days, my turbulent love-life. And I watched her fall in love and get married. Then she moved overseas. And looking back I remember US with the fondest of memories and strongest of affection. She is the closest thing I ever had to having an older sister. And I don't mind sharing my parents, my things, my life with her. But I had to cross that boundary, that hurdle to get to this point. And I have always blamed my inability to share my parents easily on being an "only child".

I think being an "only child" gives you the impression that certain things belong to you. It makes one a little bit more possessive about things, about people, than anyone else. I try my hardest to be a little less possessive about the people I love. But it is a habit that is difficult to unlearn. I still get mad when people borrow books, CDs, DVDs and then just "forget" to return them. I don't mind lending them as long as people give it back to me and I can put things where they belong. B thinks I'm too possessive about everything (which includes him) and is always teasing me about being a "spoilt child". Well may be that is true. Just a little bit. But don't ever tell him that I said that.

The other thing that bothers me about people having single childs these days is that it takes away some beautiful relations that we were fortunate to have in our lives. I grew up basking in the affection of my kaka, pishi, mashi, mama.....I had one of each. My parents had multiple kakas, pishis, mashis and mamas. Unfortunately my child will not have any mashi, kaka or mama. And may be my grandchild will not even know what it is like to even have these wonderful people in your life to shower love, affection and blessings. And that will be so unfortunate. Because some of my fondest memories are with these people and knowing that I can always turn to them for anything.

And even though I had the most wonderful childhood I always wanted a sibling, like my other friends. Someone I could share my life with. For the longest time I had a strange notion that my parents had another child, a son who was older than me, and whom they used to hide in a secret passage that existed within the walls of our house. I believed in this fantasy for ever so long. I would go tapping on the walls all day just to open up the passage and reveal their secret. I would lie awake at night hoping to catch them bringing him out of the secret passage. But I always fell asleep before they did. And till date have not met my "brother".

Yeah I know I'm a little crazy. But whattodo. I blame it on being an "only child".