Chapter 8: Between Being Strict and Being Soft
The complaint came on a Wednesday afternoon. Neha was reviewing a report at her office when her phone vibrated. A message from Kabir’s class teacher.
“Kabir was talking during class and had a fight with his class fellow. Please discuss this with him.”
Neha read the message twice. Then once more. She leaned back in her chair. Kabir was usually cheerful. Talkative, yes. Mischievous, certainly.
But fighting with a child? That was unlike him.
All evening, the message stayed in her mind. During the ride home. While cutting vegetables. While checking his homework.
Kabir seemed normal. A little too normal. He chatted about a science project and a funny incident in the school bus. As if nothing had happened.
After dinner, Neha closed his notebook and looked at him. “Kabir, aaj school mein kya hua?”
Kabir avoided her eyes. “Nothing.”
“Teacher ka message aaya tha.”
He grew quiet.
She waited.
Finally he spoke. “Rohan ne bola ki main cheating karta hoon.”
“Phir?”
“Maine us se jhagda kr liya.”
Neha took a deep breath. “Kabir, jhagda karna galat baat hai.”
Kabir crossed his arms. “Usne pehle bola tha.”
“Phir bhi.”
“He started.” His voice had a sharp edge now.
Neha felt the familiar conflict rising inside her. Part of her wanted to be firm. To teach him boundaries. To make it clear that hurting someone was unacceptable.
Another part saw something else. A little boy still learning how to handle anger. A child who had already lost more than most children his age.
She kept her voice steady. “Galat baat sun kar gussa aana normal hai. Lekin kisi ko dhakka dena theek nahi.”
Kabir looked away. “You always say I’m wrong.”
The sentence was small. But it landed heavily.
Neha moved closer to him. “Main yeh nahi keh rahi ki tum bure ho.”
He remained silent.
“Main sirf yeh keh rahi hoon ki tumhara behavior galat tha.”
Kabir finally looked at her. There was confusion in his eyes. The kind children feel when they are still separating who they are from what they did.
“Matlab?”
Neha placed her hand over his.“Tum bahut ache ho. Lekin kabhi kabhi ache bachche bhi galti karte hain.”
Kabir listened carefully. “And then?”
“And then… they learn.”
His shoulders relaxed a little. “So… you’re not angry?”
Neha smiled softly. “Thoda sa.”
Kabir smiled too. “Very thoda?”
“Enough to make you say sorry to Rohan tomorrow.”
He sighed dramatically. “Okay.”
Later that night, while tucking him into bed, Kabir asked quietly: “Mumma…”
“Haan?”
“If I make mistakes, will you still love me?”
Neha’s eyes softened instantly. She brushed his hair away from his forehead.
“Always.”
“Even when I’m naughty?” “Especially then.” Kabir smiled and closed his eyes.
After he slept, Neha sat beside him for a few minutes.
Parenting had no instruction manual. Especially not this kind. There was no perfect balance. No exact formula. Only daily decisions.
When to be firm. When to be gentle. When to correct. When to simply hold.
Sometimes children do not need a parent who is only strict or only soft. They need someone who can do both. Someone who teaches them that mistakes have consequences— But love remains unchanged.
And that night, Kabir learned that discipline was not rejection… And Neha learned that firmness and love can exist in the same sentence.
If you've ever felt exhausted but still showed up for your child, read:
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