Pot calling the kettle black
I was nearly a nut job in childhood. Piked up fights with friends, beat down my classmates and used to steal things like the gregarious bunch of some kleptomaniac freaks. Instead of exercising atonement over my childhood notoriety, I felt elated over vandalizing things on provocation. "If you don't pull up your socks and behave, things will be difficult for you in future," - used to say my mom after some gentle mild rebukes over my mischievousness. "I will beat the shit out of you the next time i hear complain from neighbors. You got my point?" - used to say my father who seemed to lose his temperament the moment he heard complains from people about my intractable childhood mischief. When mom rebuked, it was understandable for me that she was in pain for my action. She is a woman of substance I must say. But when father said something in saintly advisory tone, i simply looked at him in amazement, wondering what made him so wise today. I was unable to get hi