Maa-baap bas ye nahi chahte, mera bachcha gareeb reh jaye

What lies beneath this line isn’t pressure—it's love, fear, and silent sacrifice.

There’s a moment in every child’s life when they look their parents in the eye and say, “But this is not what I want.”

And there’s a silence that follows. Heavy, confused, and deeply human.

What most children don’t see is this: behind every “no” from a parent lies a trembling fear. A fear of hunger, of rejection, of the child not having enough. In Indian homes, that fear is often expressed not in words, but in phrases like Zakir Khan’s now-iconic line: “Maa-baap bas ye nahi chahte, mera bachcha gareeb reh jaye.”

It sounds simple. But in truth, it carries generations of longing, struggle, and dreams that were never allowed to bloom.

What Parents Have Lived Through

They’re not just worried because they don’t trust your dreams. They’re worried because they’ve lived through days that tested their spirit.

They know the pain of standing in overcrowded buses, clutching onto a handle, drenched in sweat, counting each stop with tired eyes — not out of routine, but because missing one meant being late for a job they couldn’t afford to lose.

They’ve smiled through social gatherings where relatives judged their worth based on what they wore, the car they didn’t own, or the job title they lacked. They’ve heard phrases like “Bas theek-thaak hi kar raha hai” and carried those words back home like silent wounds.

They’ve eaten less so you could eat more. They’ve said no to their own desires because your school fees were due. And even on the worst of days, they’ve whispered to themselves, “Koi nahi… ek din humara bhi time aayega.”

That faith — that someday, life will be kinder, softer, more respectful — is what they pin on you. You are their dream now. And the fear that you might face the same struggle makes them tighten their grip, not because they don’t believe in you, but because they do — and that’s exactly what scares them.

What the Child Sees Instead

From the other side, it feels like control. A child sees their parents’ concern as rejection.

“They don’t believe in me.”

“They just want me to follow the herd.”

“Why can’t they let me live my own life?”

And in many ways, they’re not wrong. Because parents rarely express love in the language of dreams. They express it in the language of fears.

And that’s where the gap begins—between a generation that wanted to survive, and one that wants to live fully.

A Parent's Secret Dream

But here’s the truth most children never hear their parents say: “I want to earn enough so that you can afford to fail.”

So many parents are working jobs they don’t love, saving every extra rupee, not just for their child’s education—but to build generational wealth.

They want to gift their children freedom. The freedom to choose their own path without worrying about the next meal or the next month’s expenses.

They just don’t say it out loud.

Instead, they say: “Do the MBA first.”

“Get a job. Then think about passion.”

“Who will marry you if you earn nothing?”

And that hurts. Because children aren’t just seeking permission to dream. They’re seeking support.

They want someone to say, “I believe you can.”

Bridging the Gap

This blog isn’t here to take sides. It’s to remind both parents and children that they’re often saying the same thing—just in different ways.

Children need to know:

Your parents aren’t against your dreams. They’re just haunted by the idea of you suffering.

And parents need to know:

Your children aren’t being rebellious. They’re just trying to live a life that feels authentic.

Maybe it’s time we stop talking at each other, and start talking with each other. Not with expectations, but with empathy.

If you’re a parent—ask your child what they truly love. Listen without judgment.

If you’re a child—show your parent that your passion has a plan. Give them something to believe in.

Because somewhere between “do what you love” and “just survive” lies a middle path.

One paved with trust. With patience. And with the understanding that love sometimes hides behind fear—and dreams need more than courage to grow. They need compassion too.

No parent wants their child to suffer. But maybe—just maybe—it’s time we redefine what it means to be "gareeb."

Because a life lived without authenticity, without joy, without purpose—that too, is a kind of poverty.

And no parent wants that for their child either.

(The author of this blog, Shweta, is a certified NLP practitioner who loves to write about family, relationships, and her takeaways from conversations, books, and movies. She believes in soulful storytelling and finding personal meaning through everyday reflections.)