I turned 21 this month. I am officially a full time adult and I am so scared of how much life is going to happen in the next 10 years. I am scared and I am struggling. I wonder if you are still allowed to call your mum at all minor inconveniences even after you’re an adult? Who am I kidding, who else will you call?

Dear ma,

I am struggling. I cannot attend all my classes, do my assignments, read all required literature, clean my house, do my laundry, cook warm meals every day, call home and keep in touch with everyone waiting to hear how my weekend was, go out with my friends, find love, hold on to that love, save money, make money, buy good organic produce, recycle, and oil my hair weekly.
I bought salicylic acid, vitamin C serum and that toner you use but I can only remember to do my skincare two nights of the week. I read my friend’s messages about feeling sad and lonely but I leave them unopened because I rarely have the emotional bandwidth to be there for him when I too feel that way on most days. I meet men and immediately list all things wrong or mediocre or not up to my mark and walk away because I refuse to teach someone how to be sensitive and emotionally available and a mature adult, I refuse to mother somebody else’s child. My friend keeps inviting me to her house for Christmas but I don’t think I can make somebody else’s family my own like that.

I am struggling ma, I am struggling to be a mini-you.

I lack your empathy, your selflessness and your kind soul. I lack your firm hand on money and values. I lack your discipline and commitment to things, people and routines. I lack your devotion. I lack your willpower and I lack your brave heart.

I feel like I am failing you ma. Like I am becoming everything you never wanted me to be.
You wanted wings for me. Freedom to do whatever, to be whoever, to live however. You wanted independence. No social norms, no shackles of commitment, no fear of loneliness. You wanted a sharp tongue and a sharper wit. Call out bullshit as you see it, speak your truth and outsmart people with your actions rather than empty threats. You wanted kindness and altruism. Give, give more than you get, don’t let your left hand know of your right’s generosity. You wanted self-preservation and not selflessness for me. Don’t lose yourself in trying to find someone else. You wanted me to be fearless and feminine. It’s a man’s world Jasmita and you have to fight for your place. Do that with no fear, no pretence. You don’t have to be tough and coarse. You don’t have to be a man. Have the courage and the grace to be a woman. Be sensitive and emotional and extra and fierce and outrageous and hormonal. Be a woman and make space for other women to be women.
Be everything I want to be in my next life Jasmita.

I am trying ma, I am trying to be everything you want me to be but it is so difficult to keep up. It’s so tough to be your daughter, let alone be better than you. You have created such big shoes to fill. How will I ever live up to being Meghana Shah’s daughter?
“Megha aunty jevu loving thau che jas”
“Your mom just emulates kindness”
“Megha aunty has just always been so thoughtful”
“Mummy evi aj che, koinu khotu boli aj na sakey”
“I have always known I could go to your mom with anything and she would never judge”
These are messages on my WhatsApp mum.
This is how people talk about you in your absence.

How are you like this ma? How are you so accommodating and selfless and an ocean of love? Where does your kindness stem from? Where does your faith come from? Where do you find all this love to give?
Tell me. Teach me.
Teach me to be like you. Teach me to multitask. Teach me to be a good daughter and sister and wife and mother and aunty and friend and a tremendous human, all at the same time.
Teach me to love and teach me to live.
I am struggling ma, come put your hand on my head and say I am the god’s favourite child.
I may never be half as extraordinary as you are ma but I am so glad I am innately half you.