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My dad seldom picks up my calls to my mother every day. It is a part of my routine; I call my mother every night. I listen to her worries and her perturbations. In a few seconds, I become the mother, mothering my child.

But why do I call?

Most Indian children can relate to the daily call to their mothers and fathers. We’re used to calling people and always being in sync. We tally our numbers, discuss our dues, and then match up against everything. But there may be a deeper reason. Why is calling the family so important anyway? Why must we always know about each other?

The History of Everything

Family Keeps Watch

In the beginning, when the joint family was de rigeur, the eyes followed you everywhere. Of course, people built a community instead of a mother and father and child dynamic. But, then, we need to argue about what a community does. In all senses, these communities hadn’t killed the cops in their heads. So, they ended up creating rules and laws. Thematic guardrails became entrenched. And since people aren’t infallible, these guardrails came from a long line of guardrails, from the leaders, politicians, and everyone else watching the proceedings. The result was that the unit, the smallest unit, became subject to surveillance, and every single day became a jail. The family home was comforting. It provided all the essential comforts a man might want but ate off their morals and needs as it went forward.

It goes nuclear

When families became smaller, larger communities were built. These were built with gossip, with words, with vague whispers. Soon, people became used to watching their steps everywhere. The fear of living in a city where your parents are is also exacerbated by this very gossip. This very structure keeps increasing and eating everything in its path. So, when you smoke a cigarette, you’re not afraid of your mother finding out. Because your mother doesn’t go through that road because that isn’t how it’s structured, but if you’re worried a friend of hers will see you, they will notice. Then, it will ricochet from there. Become an entire thesis on how you’ve destroyed your life and have nowhere to go. And soon, you’re suffering everywhere.

The Panopticon

The concept is simple. It is a central tower that watches every prisoner all around the tower. So, you can never leave its gaze. Everything is reduced to brutal efficiency. If you think social media is a voluntary mode of this, you are right! The same principle repeats itself with social media, and then it causes a lot of conflict. So, you can wear your political badge with pride (and liberals will surely congratulate you for being brave), and suddenly, two people in your college will want to kill you one day. Private spaces are increasingly rare in this life. I do not know if my parents will read this blog and if they’ll decide to throw me out.

The policing construct

The family always polices you. It doesn’t do it out of love. It doesn’t do it out of respect. It doesn’t do it out of care. It polices because that’s what it knows how to do. In the history of things, the family has never been permissive. In the community, it was permissive because when you get a mixture of parental figures, the authority divides itself repeatedly, and you get weak authority, something you can depend on to grow.

So What to do

Nothing might be a silly answer. But, it is an accurate one. Not doing anything might be the best bet for you. If you stay still and never move, the family never has questions, it never polices. But you need to have questions, and you need to create conversation. You need to take action and move into a better place. So, what do you do? You create shields. You never leave trails. And then make your own way through the space. Of course, there’s no simple way out of this. So, you acknowledge the faults, the cracks, and everything in between. Then you grow. You grow despite policing because nothing else is possible.