Taking The Red Pill Destroyed My Family
Indians and tribalism go hand in hand, whether it’s in ethnicity or even within households and extended family. Personally I can count the number of guys who are red pill and Indian on one hand. I am sure there are plenty out there but I’ve yet to come across them, in fact I have found that most Indian guys my age are just standard betas who bow to the will of their fathers and wives.
The psyche here comes from Indian families and how they work. By the age of 23-24 your parents/uncles/aunts and practically everyone in the generation above you is on your ass about getting married and finding a girl, constantly hooking you up on pointless blind dates. Most Indian guys easily succumb to that pressure and fulfill the wishes of their parents.
Asian family hierarchy is traditionally set in stone. Once a man marries and has a child, he automatically ascends to alpha in his household, even above his own father, who still tries to remain top of the perch but inevitably falls. If you don’t follow this ‘natural course’ that being an Indian seems to dictate then inevitably that alpha male in your household will project his vision on you and do his best to make you do what he wants (get married and have bloody kids!).
I am still a bachelor at the grand old age of 28. According to my old man and my old dear I am past due and will soon find no-one to spend my life with. This was a conversation with my dad on my birthday when I turned 25:
Father: “Don’t you want to get married son and settle down? You can’t be a bachelor forever you know? “
Me: “Not yet, I’m fine, just want to have fun with as many girls as I can.”
Father: “Son there’s only so many holes you can poke into the wall!”
Me: “I know dad but my wall is the Great Wall of China”
He laughed and of course even I bloody did. Inside though he was rueing it, he knew it and suspected his downfall. My brother at that time had also been waging a war path in the house asserting his authority. I was the oldest son, having not lived under his roof for 10 years, so he had already lost his authority over me. He was not accepting that his time to rule his tribe has gone, and that neither of his sons would be getting married and having children.
On a fortnightly basis my very traditional mother did her best, ringing me to ask if I had a girlfriend and why I wasn’t looking. She’d know of ‘some girl’ who is ‘only’ between 26-29. At 25 I had just started ‘game,’ but as that year went on I immersed myself more and more into the real reality of dating and what my value as a man was. Now I started to understand what I needed to do, with marriage nowhere on my list. Slowly I started to find more women interested in me compared to my barren years in my early 20s.
I got tired of my mother’s bitching, the woman whose siblings’ children were all getting married and having ‘fairytale’ Indian weddings. I knew that my mother wanted a wedding for herself in Indian culture, a status-showing occasion more for parents than an actual celebration of the marriage. She wanted to buy all the glamorous sarees, jewelry, and clothes. She wanted to pretty up a couple of banquet halls and show off my old man’s wealth.
My dad soon increased his badgering:
- “All your friends from school have got married now!”
- “Son you’re getting old, all the good girls are gone!”
I couldn’t believe he was shaming me. I snapped. I told my mother in plain simple words to stop harassing me to do something that I didn’t want to do, to stop trying to set me up with women I didn’t want to see, and to stop shaming me into getting what she wants at my expense—a wedding. My mother told my father, and he promptly disowned me over the phone. He was appalled that I would talk to my mother like that and not take their advice. He was appalled that I was not doing what they wanted and said how he was ashamed that I was his son. He told me I should not bother to phone or contact them. That was it, the end.
My father held sway not just over his own household but also over his brother and his sisters. Suddenly I found myself ostracized by my whole extended family, too. He told them not to speak to me and not to let me in their houses. Indian culture ingrains heavy involvement with your extended family as natural order—my friends were my cousins, the places I’d hang out were their houses, and a lot of my social life was heavily integrated with this extended family. If I fell into hardship these were the people I could rely on to help me, but no more.
Six months months later, my father phoned me. He offered a half-arsed apology and said he wanted to talk. I agreed but felt there was another motive behind it. I made the journey back home a few weeks later to see what was going to happen. I walked into a warzone.
My brother had decided that if my parents would disown me for not listening to them then he would take preemptive action and disown them first, which he did. He told me he lost all respect for them, and had not spoken to either of them despite living in the same household. At the same time, my mother had been at my father’s throat because he wouldn’t let her call me. She felt she had lost both her sons because of him and wanted to leave and move to her brother’s house. My father was on the verge of giving up. After working his ass off since the age of 16, he was wealthy enough to retire and live a relaxed life. He wanted a ceasefire.
One day I sat them all down and sternly explained why I made the choices I made. I told them I would not yield. My father reluctantly accepted what I said while my mother put on a strained smile that showed her pain in having to let go of the magical wedding. My brother? He was just happy I was back and now “in charge.” I’m in charge? Yes, somehow I’m now king of my tribe. My mother is pacified and my father is going on about he’s happy if we’re happy. I thought taking the red pill caused me to lose my family for good, but the values it taught me helped me get them right back.
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