How I came out to my mother and other stories

My mother is a unique creature. She loves dresses, compliments and gossips. She is also the most emotional woman that I know of. I have been rehearsing coming out to my parents from a long time. On one hand I knew they would still continue to love me and on the other hand I knew my father's temper. The softer and more obvious target was my mother. "You can do this", my best friends encouraged me. I felt as alone and scared as a young deer out in the woods for the first time on its own. Coming out is a fatal process. That moment when you are about to say it you feel like a lowly dung beetle and the person hearing you out is God. You want your prayer heard and you accepted and raised to the level of a human being. The ideas in my head ranged from impossible to the lunatic. What if they force me to elope with a girl? What if my father goes violent? Do I shout to my neighbours for help? In case they do turn up to help me what do I tell them? My whole vacation was well planned. My family has a tradition of pampering me like a prince whenever I go home. Only chicken reared from home is cooked, fish is caught from our ponds. I couldn't enjoy a bit of all this in anticipation. And yet as that moment was nearing, I was almost frozen. Time stood still. I had been telling her the moment I landed that I've something to tell her. Every time I thought I will tell was a bad time. My sister was at home, there was some other tension in the family, there were guests ... but finally I sieged my moment- one day before I was leaving. I had to pick up enough courage. We were just done with dinner when my mother decided to go to the pond one last time to check the fish caught in the net. She came back showing me the prawns. "Are you going to sleep now?" I asked. I expected her to say yes and yawn and go to bed but somehow she was also enjoying these moments with me, just the two of us, mother and son. "I'll sleep in some time", she said as she made one more paan for herself. "Even I'll have one", I said, I was getting more and more restless. I sat down on a murrah and asked her to sit besides me. She initiated the conversation. "What is it that you were meaning to tell me?" I knew this was it, "I've been trying to put it in the right words", I told her. I looked straight into her eyes and said "I don't like to be with girls". She kept on repeating, "what does that mean?", "I don't understand". And then finally I said- "I want to be with a man". Then followed a series of questions and answers, threats, pleadings. She compared me to a characterless pervert, she expressed horror over the idea of other people discovering it. "Don't you dare to play this joke on me", she said. "I will never let you destroy your life in this manner". She cried her heart out. My head was a burning ball of fire when I went to bed at around 1 o'clock. I must burn in hell to cause such trauma to a mother I thought. I was shaking of fear and guilt. I deleted all the text messages and photos of my friends in my mobile phone. I didn't want to unnecessarily drag anyone in this mess. When I opened my eyes at 4 in the morning, I heard her wail again. The entire house woke up, I heard my father console her. Every one had come to know by now. Somehow, the fear in me had subsided. I wanted to fight. A calmness came over me, the worst part was over. My father didn't say much that day but his eyes were telling me everything. I was worried he will never speak to me ever again. However, the next day just when I was getting ready for the airport, he asked for me in the living room. I called my mother too. My father told me this- "what you are thinking is wrong". I told him that I was very happy we were able to have a mature and calm conversation on this. I also told them that I will not do anything that will shame them in front of others. I promised them that I will still be the obedient son and the ideal elder brother except that I will not be able to get married. Every human being on this earth deserves to be honest to himself and by hiding one crucial truth of your life from your parents, you aren't being honest to yourself. It's like living a fake life. The guilt just mounts up with time. I and my sister went to the terrace. "You did nothing wrong. It's your life, whatever you do we are with you" she told me. "I was so tired of hiding my true self from you all" I told her. I said goodbye to them all. I touched my parents' feet. I thought I had tears of shame and guilt. Actually they were of relief and happiness ... for a new start.