Living with ten people is difficult and trying. There are days that I wake up to the incessant cries of my youngest cousin or am “stuck” babysitting the handful of children in my house while the adults are working. Despite these responsibilities, there are also days that I get reprimanded separately by all six adults in the household. Every day deems itself to pose new challenges, yet living in a joint family is a blessing in disguise.
Currently, my household carries ten people: my mom, dad, brother, aunt, uncle, younger cousins, grandpa, and grandma. This joint family living arrangement is common in Indian culture as after marriage, the sons remain under the same roof as their parents to take care of them in old age. As the parents provide for the children when growing older, it is the responsibility of the children to do that in kind when their parents become elderly. More specifically, for my family, my grandfather made the decision for us to live together to ensure a stable home financially. Most importantly, he wanted to instill filial values and stress the importance of family to us.
The first lesson I learned from living with a joint family was putting others before me. At seven years of age, I slept in my grandparents’ room with them and my infant cousin in her crib. As my cousin needed to be fed every few hours, during the first few nights, I was awoken by her irritating cries. I would grumble and moan to my grandmother to silence that “thing” with formulated milk while my grandfather cradled the baby around the room to console her. Every night this continued until one night I heard my grandma hissing in pain due to overworking her hand cooking and cleaning. I hauled myself out of bed and proceeded to carry my little cousin around while my grandpa created her milk. As I walked around the room, I made eye contact with my grandma and, even in the darkness, I could see appreciation shining through her eyes.
When you put others’ needs before your own desires, other people will do the same. A year ago, I repeatedly got abscesses on my legs and arms to the point at which the sharp pains did not affect me, and I became well aware of how to drain and care for them. I had hidden them from my family members in fear of getting smothered with daily checkups and stern lectures until my mom caught a glimpse of my leg while I was helping set up for my cousin’s second birthday party. When she saw the large swollen lump on the side of my leg, she sternly told me to sit down and let her drain it. While this happened, every family member stopped decorating their section of the house and gathered near to me. My aunt got me water, my uncle started researching the causes of the abscesses, my grandparents began praying for me, and my dad sat next me to examine my leg. In that moment, I observed the scene around me: a family that had stopped everything they were doing to come aid me in my time of need.
For the past seventeen years I have always came home to a house filled with people who look out for me and love me unconditionally and leaving for college will definitely pose as a difficult adjustment. There will be no more spontaneous trips to Stop & Shop with my uncle, no more home cooked meals from my grandmother, no more walks with my nine-year-old cousin. These little rendezvous may not happen while I’m away at college but when I come to visit home we will definitely find some more memorable activities to indulge in.