No. That’s not a typo. I meant to write it twice. Because I’ve heard that line twice over in my life.AdvertisementBeing a parent happened six years after we tied the knot. I wasn’t ready then. And 16 years later, I don’t think I am any readier than I was back then. Because it’s hard being a parent. It gets harder each day, and I don’t mean being a parent to boys — just, being a parent is hard in today’s hyper-everything world.I love my boys to bits. But there have been hair-raising moments while raising them. It hasn’t been without our share of arguments and fights, losing voices and stomping away from scenes. There have been so many times when I’ve felt inadequate as a mother; that I haven’t done enough, I’m not doing enough, that I’m not doing things right, and nothing seems to be working the way it should.In times where every evidence suggests that it’s the men who are the progenitors of organised wars and genocides and climate catastrophes, and when men are being stereotyped into being aggressive, violent, insensitive, and even inhumane, how does one raise kind, gentle and feminist boys? Because men can be kind and gentle and inclusive, and god knows the world needs more kind and gentle men.AdvertisementAnd when historically, men have been raised to be tough and to be the breadwinners who bear the financial burden of the family, how does one raise boys to believe that they can pursue what they want to, without the added pressure of earning a few professional degrees to get a good job?Telling the boys what to do hasn’t met with much success – you are perceived as some kind of nagging-machine, constantly dishing out unsolicited advice in auto mode. There she goes again, forever ready to scream and spew advice they never thought they needed.Nonetheless, I need them to know that I’m always around when they need me and even when they don’t. While I find it extremely hard to control myself from dishing out advice, I think what works for the three of us is a shift in the way we communicate.Our love language is something I won’t exchange for all the riches in this world. It’s wrapped in warm kisses and squishy hugs. From the time they wake up to the time they go to bed. When they’re sad or mad, hungry or full after a meal. When they’re upset or frustrated or on the verge of a breakdown. Tight hugs which last for as long as they want them to (I am never the first one to let go of that hug). When they leave for school. When they are back from school. We say “I love you” all the time. When we need to hear it, and no, the number of times it’s said is never enough. I kiss them when they’re awake and sometimes even more when they are asleep. We hold hands. We put our arms around each other.This physical affection, this language of closeness, has brought us closer in more ways than one, and I wish I had this with my parents, too. So much so that even when things go south — and boy, do they go south – sometimes all it takes is this massive, tight, long hug to restore calm and equilibrium in the house.Also Read | As a father, I have learnt—it’s not about how you ‘raise’ your boy, it is about who you are while you do itWe also indulge in long conversations. I use our mealtimes, pick-up and drop-off times in the car, bedtime, and whatever little bonus time I can get through the day to talk to them about anything and everything under the sun. They know when I have my periods. They know I have been using a menstrual cup for years. They know I’ve not stopped earning for the last 25 years. They know I don’t earn enough to pay all our bills, but their father doesn’t have to do it alone. And I listen to every story they share like I’m hearing it for the first time.I believe this love language, these conversations, are what the world needs. The world needs more huggers and kissers, and hand holders. The world needs more inclusive conversations and empathy.I’m not saying these are the only ways to change narratives, just that, for us, they work like magic.Boys don’t have to be boys the way the world sees them. They can be loving and caring. They can be the ones who serve the guests instead of the girls. They can be the ones cooking meals, doing the laundry and the dishes. They can be the ones babysitting siblings and caring for the elders. Because we need arms that provide care and comfort and ears that listen, and somewhere it feels like the hugs and conversations make things right.The world could do with some rights.Shroff is a children’s author