Parents are my favourite travel buddies

"Beta, your room is always waiting for you." Mom's words echoed in my head as I lugged my suitcases up the familiar stairs of my childhood home. At 29, with a master's degree and five years of corporate experience under my belt, I never thought I'd be back here. Not like this, anyway. The decision to move back wasn't easy. My startup had failed spectacularly, taking my savings and self-esteem with it. Mumbai's sky-high rents suddenly seemed impossible. When Dad suggested I come home "just until you figure things out," it felt like both a lifeline and a step backwards. The first week was a strange mix of comfort and chaos. Mom's cooking was a welcome change from my diet of Swiggy/Zomato. But the luxury of home-cooked meals came with a side of "Why aren't you eating?", "You've become so thin!", and unsolicited advice on everything from my career to my love life. My old room, now Dad's "home office," was a time capsule of my teenage years. Faded cricket posters shared wall space with his collection of business books. At night, lying in my childhood bed, I'd stare at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and wonder where I'd gone wrong. The hardest part was the loss of independence. Suddenly, I had to inform my parents if I was going out late. Dad would casually inquire about my job search over breakfast. Mom would remind me to make my bed, as if I hadn't been doing it myself for years. But amid the frustration, there were moments of unexpected joy. Like when Dad and I stayed up late discussing startup ideas, his eyes lighting up with an enthusiasm I'd forgotten he possessed. Or the afternoon I spent teaching Mom how to use Instagram, both of us laughing at the filters. Slowly, I started to see my parents not just as "Mom and Dad," but as individuals with their own dreams and quirks. I noticed the silver in Dad's hair, the new lines around Mom's eyes. When had they gotten older? Had I been too busy "adulting" to notice? There were adjustments on both sides. I learned to bite my tongue when Mom rearranged my carefully organized closet. They learned to knock before entering my room. We all learned the delicate dance of sharing space as adults. The turning point came three months in. I landed a new job, and my first instinct was to start apartment hunting. But as I sat at the dining table, sharing the news over Mom's special biryani, I realized something had shifted. This house, with all its quirks and challenges, had become home again. Not in the same way it was when I was a kid, but in a new, complex, adult way. I ended up staying for eight more months. In that time, I not only rebuilt my career but also rediscovered my relationship with my parents. We argued, we laughed, we shared silences. I learned that Dad makes a mean omelet at 2 AM, and that Mom's got a wicked sense of humor I'd somehow missed growing up. When I finally moved out, it wasn't with the desperate rush I'd initially imagined. It was a practical decision - I'd saved enough, found a place I liked, and felt ready. The send-off was a simple family dinner, where we laughed about some of the awkward moments from the past year. As I settled into my new apartment, I realized those months at home had taught me a lot. Sure, there were tough times - privacy issues, disagreements over household rules, the occasional feeling of regression. But there were also valuable lessons: 1. My parents are people too, with their own lives and challenges. 2. Independence is more about mindset than living situation. 3. Family relationships can actually improve with some close quarters and open communication. 4. I'm more resilient than I thought, capable of adapting to unexpected life turns. Would I do it again? Maybe, if circumstances required it. It wasn't always easy, but it was far from the disaster I'd feared. If anything, those months gave me a new appreciation for my family and a better understanding of myself. So if you find yourself packing up to head back to your childhood bedroom, don't panic. It's not a step backward - it's just a different kind of move forward.

Middle class parents have always saved up money, cutting out trivial expenses When kids get their own money, they want to shake up things - order in or eating out. Dragging down the health (and wealth) that parents built over the years Was in a mall food court and saw parents - simple and humble - enjoying the little burger and fries, while being proud of their son/daughter being all grown up I am guilty of this too WHy are we like this

Living far away for a better life (money,edu,etc)

I found an old form from 2013, my father had sent details Annual Income - 8L Education expense - 2.5L He is retired govt empl so couldn't lie on numbers I was in top autonomous institute, and my brother in good private school in Delhi It hits me now, how I wasted my life 'enjoying college' and thereafter Falling in and out of love Parents never say anything on practical topics, just regular wake up early, eat vegetables rant I fucked my life and how

Started @salt trend on weekend scenes while driving through Karnataka to Coorg. I am from Delhi and got a nice bonus this year. Decided to travel with entire family which I paid and not my papa. Feeling very proud. My father and mother worked very hard when I was a child. It feels good knowing that I can give them experiences that they never could afford because they had me and my sister to raise. I am happy that I am spending mothers day with my family and appreciate my parents at the same time. We are headed to coorg now. Feeling very proud inside. picture: taken this morning on my flight from Delhi to Bangalore.

Till few months ago, I was working at Flipkart as a Product Manager. I loved my job, but I had an idea to start an Airbnb business in Kerala. I planned to do a quick study of the area, starting with a short stay in Trivandrum where my grandparents live. I didn't know then that this "short stay" would change my life. Now, my days look like this: 4:00 AM: I wake up to the smell of coffee. My grandma is already up, singing softly. 4:30 AM: I walk to the temple with my grandparents. The streets are quiet, the sky is getting lighter, and I can smell jasmine flowers. It's beautiful. 6:00 AM: We have breakfast at home. We eat appam, dosas, coconut chutney, and more of that great coffee. 7:00 AM - 1:00 PM: I work on my Airbnb plans. It's moving forward, just slower than I thought it would. (Just opened my second Airbnb in Kovalam🤞🏼) 1:00 PM: Lunch with my grandparents. My grandma's fish curry is the best. We talk about all sorts of things. 2:00 PM - 4:00 PM: Nap time. I never thought I'd like afternoon naps, but I do now. 4:00 PM: Sometimes we go shopping. Watching my grandpa bargain at the market teaches me a lot. 6:00 PM: We go for an evening drive in my grandpa's old car. We don't go anywhere special, we just enjoy being together and feeling the sea breeze. 8:00 PM: We have dinner, maybe watch some TV, and go to bed early. It's a simple life, but it's taught me something important - the power of community. What has surprised me most is how people here take care of each other without expecting anything back. Our neighbor brings us extra papaya from her tree every week. When Appappa had a small health scare, the entire street rallied around - someone was always there to help or just sit with Ammamma. I've seen the vegetable seller give my grandma extra curry leaves "for good health." The auto-rickshaw driver who takes us to the temple won't take money on festival days. He says it's his way of celebrating. This sense of community isn't about getting something in return. It's not networking. It's just people caring for each other because we're all human. I'm learning so much. About being generous without expecting anything back. About how being part of a community makes you stronger. About how a community can keep you safe, make you happy, and support you all at the same time. Don't get me wrong - I still want to start my Airbnb business. It's just moving forward differently than I planned. And that's okay. Right now, I'm learning things that no business plan could teach me. I'm learning the value of being present. Of really listening. Of how peaceful an early morning walk can be. Of how happy it makes my grandma when I help her in the kitchen. My grandparents and this community are teaching me more about life than I ever expected. They're happy with small things, they handle problems with grace, and they always support each other. It's really inspiring. But here's the fun part - I'm not just learning from them. We're all growing together, and it's wonderful to see. I showed my grandparents how to use Alexa, thinking it might help them. I didn't know it would become something we enjoy every day. My grandpa loves asking Alexa to tell jokes. Even when the jokes aren't funny, his laugh makes everyone smile. My grandma, who loves to cook, likes to ask for recipe ideas, though she always says her recipes are better (and she's usually right haha). Then I showed them ChatGPT. It's opened up a whole new world of fun for us. My grandpa, who loves telling stories, spends hours making up interesting questions for it. He recently had it write a story about a wise old tree giving advice to young trees. We laughed so much reading it out loud during dinner. My grandma uses it to make crossword puzzles. She solves them with a big smile, sometimes asking me to explain new words she doesn't know. It's become our evening routine – we have tea, do crosswords, and talk about all sorts of things. Watching them try this new technology with such excitement is teaching me something too. They're not afraid of new things, just curious and happy to learn. It reminds me that we can keep learning our whole lives, and that older people can adapt and grow in amazing ways. This mix of old and new, of tradition and technology, is really special. We're connecting across generations through AI-created stories and home-cooked meals. I'm learning to slow down, while they're discovering the fun of instant information and digital creativity. I know I won't live this slow life forever. But right now, it's exactly what I need. It's showing me what's really important - in life and in business. And it's teaching me that the best connections often happen when we least expect them. If you're feeling like you need to reconnect or recharge, sometimes the answer is simpler than we think. It might be in a quiet moment with people you love, or in the warmth of a community that cares. P.S. If you're planning to visit Kerala, let me know. I might not have my Airbnb business yet, but I can tell you about some great places to visit - and introduce you to some of the friendliest communities in this beautiful state down south 💚 P.P.S. I am also trying to articulate my thoughts better, probably the longest form of writing I’ve written beyond PRDs lol - thanks for giving it a read!

I’ve started earning well recently, and I always think of giving back to the people who were there through the thick and thin: my parents. Please give me some ideas what people are doing these days for their parents? Gifts, trips or anything will help

my parents have done 3x better than me.. one working, 2 kids and 3bhk house at age 30.. can't imagine this nowadays

This causes a serious meltdown in an instant. Just sharing here so that if anyone reads this.. reach out to your folks and love them with all. 🙂

When I was a child, I was a foodie and loved street food, but we couldn't afford it most times(Unfair life/ rough times). I remember how special it was when my mom occasionally brought me my favorite street food, 'Samosa.' Those moments were the best. Now, I earn a decent amount and can afford things for myself and my family. I often buy my mom her favorite treats, but I personally don't enjoy anything like I used to. Sometimes, I think about going out to have a Samosa or other fast food, but then I worry about hygiene or diseases. I've never drunk or smoked; the only thing I loved was street food. But now that I can afford anything, I don't feel like eating it. As a child, I used to dream of earning a lot of money one day. Now, it seems like money is the only thing I care about. I wish I could be that child again, who was happy just to get an occasional Samosa. It feels like I matured too soon, which I didn't want. I want to eat my favorite food sometimes without thinking about anything else, just savoring the moment and the nostalgia. I don't know how to get that feeling back.