Silent Inheritances: What We Carry Without Knowing
We are shaped not just by what our ancestors gave us, but also by what they withheld. The silences, the unspoken fears, the quiet ambitions—these are the invisible threads that weave into the fabric of our lives. My family's story, like so many others, is a reflection of this inheritance, passed down not in words, but in unarticulated emotions and systemic patterns.
Inherited - The Weight of Fear and Authority
I often wonder what really transpired in my father’s childhood home beyond the stories I have been told. The fear of my grandfather loomed large—so much so that my father and his siblings would rush to open their books the moment they heard his car approaching. Their mother reinforced this atmosphere, not out of cruelty but perhaps as a way to keep the household in order. Physical punishment was common, and friendship between parents and children was unheard of.
This dynamic wasn't unique; it was a reflection of a larger system, a societal norm where authority was equated with distance. My father, in his own way, sought to change that. He promised he would be a friend to his children, and for a while, he was. But life, survival, and the pressure to provide took over. Even so, he remained funnier than most dads I knew. His humor—both endearing and cringe-worthy—became a bridge where words often failed. And maybe, in some small way, that’s what I’ve inherited too.
Inherited - The Silence in My Mother’s Story
On my mother’s side, the silences are even deeper. She barely speaks of her grandparents, and I wonder if she even remembers them. Her family lived in an Air Force camp, climbing their way out through education. My uncles and aunt—the older siblings—secured professional degrees and built careers as doctors, lawyers, consultants, and government officials. But by the time my mother and her younger sister reached that stage, the elder siblings had flown the nest—and there was no guidance for them. Perhaps the expectation was different for them as women. Their futures were tied not to careers but to marriage, and so no one intervened in the way they had for their brothers.
Yet, my mother’s response to this was fierce. She ensured we were not just educated but educated well. Every school, every college, she enabled everything to the best of her ability. My standing in life today is a direct result of her prayers, her persistence, and her ability to push past the systemic constraints that once limited her.
Inherited - The Unfinished Dreams of Our Parents
My father had his own battle with expectations. He wanted to go to IIT but couldn’t, and I suspect that not having that prestigious tag brought him a certain kind of uncomfortable feeling in life. So he tried to live that dream through us, enrolling me in FIITJEE, Brilliant Tutorials, and every possible coaching program. He assumed that just as his parents dictated his path and he followed, I would do the same.
And to be fair, I tried. But I knew, deep in my bones, that relentless pursuit of science and mathematics wasn’t in me. I had an average inclination toward these fields, nothing more. My strengths lay elsewhere, and that’s what eventually led me to business school. That one choice—a separation from the expected path—shifted my trajectory entirely. But even that decision was not entirely mine.
My career choices were shaped by my parents' aspirations, their struggles, and their need for us to be more than they were allowed to be.
What systems were at play? What were the patterns that shaped us?
I want to look beyond the events and patterns to identify the deeper structures in my family - in society at large.
When we see these invisible structures, we understand that our lives are not just our own.
They are the cumulative result of generations before us, of choices made and opportunities missed.
Even our rebellions—choosing humor instead of fear, questioning authority, prioritizing education—are shaped by the very systems we try to break away from.
What We Carry Forward
We inherit more than genetics. We inherit fears, drama, dreams, constraints, and expectations—sometimes explicitly, but often in silence.
I see this inheritance in my father’s humor, in my mother’s insistence on education, in my own journey of carving out a life that neither of them could have imagined for me.
The question, then, is not just what we have inherited, but what we choose to pass on.
Do we continue the cycles of fear and rigid expectations, or do we rewrite the patterns with awareness? The silent forces of our ancestry will always be present, but the stories we tell about them—that is where our agency lies.