Forgetting And Forgiving
My mother has been a very good friend to me. A few days back, i used to hold her responsible also for the tough childhood, i had. My dad used to be very harsh with me. I was more like a child servant at home. I was sent to the market for some or the other thing from early morning to the late night. I was so scared of my dad that i could never say no to him. Of course, there was not a day when i didn't get a solid thrashing from him..with a small or big stick, solid boxing kicks, big shoes or slippers, anything used in the kitchen. I remember everything from the age of six. Of course, i used to cry a lot. He was posted to a place near a big river. He used to often frightened me that he would throw me in that river and i was damn scared. I almost believed that he would do that one day.
My dad used to love my elder sister a lot. Whenever he came back home from work, frankally, i never liked it. But my sister used to feel very delighted to see our father . He used to take her in his lap and hug and kiss her. At that time, i longed for his love but he could never read my eyes or never cared.
The same treatment went on and on. My three more sisters were born after that and then finally my brother and then there was a full stop to the family expansion.
My elder sister was very different than me. She was very docile, not at all bold, never liked to make friends, busy with my mom in the kitchen or in the prayer room for hours together. As my dad's atrocities grew, i became more bold and insensitive. I stopped bothering for his thrashings. I was extra-ordinary in sports but he never encouraged me. He used to show his dislikeness for me very openely.
When i grew up, i was not allowed to talk to any boy, not even the cousins. I had many friends around my home and in the school. Those girls were not encouraged to visit me at home or i was not permitted to go to anybody's place. It was like a slave's life...and during all these years, my mom did nothing to save me from my dad. That time even she used to hate me, i felt.
I was just 15 years old when he started looking for a husband for me. People started coming to our house to see me and i was on an exhibition. By that time, i had become very bold and no matter what treatment i got from him, i used to say 'no' openly and with very strong words.
Once, when i was in class eleventh, one day i came back from my college, i entered home. I had some heated arguments with one of my cousins the previous day, he was there. Obviously, he must have told my dad about it. The moment, my dad saw me entering home, without asking me anything, he took books from my hand, kept them on a nearby table, picked a big stick and started beating me mercilessly. My arms were bruised very badly and it did hurt me terribly. I was too much in pain and i just fell down on the floor and started crying bitterly. There were a few times like this when i lost my will to live and i wanted God to take me away. That was a living hell.
After beating me, my dad went in the kitchen and my mom served him lunch. We had a room outside which was near to the main gate. I went into that crying. Suddenly, i wrote a small note, open the main gate without any sound and ran away from there. I went to one of my neighbour's home. who were very close to me and i got tremendous love from them. I told them what had happen. They knew everything as my dad never cared where he was beating me and how many people were witnessing that scene. I stayed at my neighbors' place for two nights, hiding from everybody. Third day i was taken to one of their daughter's place and then after five days my mom came there to get me back home. When she met me, she wasn't sorry for me or for her husband's brutality, but she was very angry with me for taking such a drastic step.
After this incident, i ran away from home twice again and last time when i left, since then i am away from home. Of course, i do go like anybody visiting native place.
Of course, when you are mature enough, you take responsibility and accountability of your actions. I have come a long way, after having countless good or bad experiences. There was a time when i was very bitter with my parents and held them responsible for my miseries and emotional termoil. I often questioned my mother that how could they have a sound sleep when they knew their young daughter was out in the world, all by herself, when i ran away from home. My mother could never give me a satisfactory answer.
Now when i m, myself, a mother. I can understand her much well. Poor woman, with seven children and a difficult husband, couldn't take care of me. Moreover, i have forgotton and forgiven everybody in my life who gave me a tough time. As because of these people, i am a better person and able to live my life independently, boldly and passionately. There is nobody like me in my family. My hard life and bad experiences made me soft at heart, compassionate, sensitive, and a nice human being....I have no regrets as now i am the most dear and caring kid of my mom. She loves me a lot and is very proud of me. I lost my dad two years back and in his last a few years, i got tremendous appreciation and love from him and we were close friends and we spent some good time together.
Bitterness kills us only. The sooner we bring ourself out of it, better for us...Now i am very happy as i have put everything behind me. I thank God for giving me such a beautiful life and invaluable experiences.