Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts

Sunday, 18 November 2012

Bon Voyage, Cousin!


I got a call a few minutes ago, it is impossible to call it a call, all it was a monologue of half a sentence long. A string of words from him and an uneasy silence on my part, that’s what our conversation was. Can I call it a conversation I am not sure, but one thing I am sure of is that the feeling were genuine, even though my response was brutal and highly prejudiced.

Before I divulge what he spoke and what its implications are, I must tell you who he is and what he meant to me in another era. He is my cousin that much I am sure you would have guessed and here is more about my cousin that you would need to know to understand our relationship and its prejudices. I am willing to write about him only because I know he will never read it and even my stupid family will never stumble upon this, it will be buried deep in my archives waiting for an occasional visit and will eventually be forgotten. I guess when it comes to my cousin my ungratefulness extends to such a level that I could not even remember his name. May be its true that when relationships are forgotten through time and when they gets buried for so long in memory even blood shall lose its flavor.

He is cousin or nephew I know not which, I suppose I never got hold of their distinctions and I sure am not in a mood to look it up now. The fact it makes no difference what so ever to anything that I have to say or what I feel. His name is Vaishak and he is the son of fathers only sister. My father comes from not a wealthy family and he climbed up the social ladder (so he claims) on his own through much hard work and perseverance, hence his crude mannerisms. His love for book is perhaps the only personality trait I inherited from him or all I want to inherit form him. But nevertheless unlike him his family was not so lucky, I am not pretty sure whether “lucky” is the right word to use.

Bon Voyage

His sister’s marriage though happy is not with someone whose second nature is to have a rainy day account. This nature of his always left them at a state of perpetual poverty, never too rich never too poor either, kind of in the in between. This though in contemporary society is regarded as unfortunate, this has preserved in them a sense of innocence that is seldom seen among the corporate animals that roam the concrete jungles. They have simple taste and even simpler lives, something to envy I guess. 

My mother has instilled in me prejudices so coarse that it took me 21 years of my life to clear the soot and look at it with any clarity of mind. Such has been the extend of the prejudices that I forgot that my father actually had a family. It was like things in a fairy tales that are too good to exist. But I must Say my mother is not a bad person but pride and ego can do terrible things even to the amiable of angels. Don’t hate my mother I beg you, she doesn’t deserve that, She was only protecting me from what she had convinced herself was bad. Nonetheless her actions deprived me from understanding life as it is in its raw form. Alienating me from people who were earthly and volatile the same. I had to learn the art of being contended at the smallest of things on my own, to cherish the wet mud that molds my feet and the sight of the rare blue butterfly or even the smell of the virgin earth being touched by the mighty rains hands. But I ended up spending one third of my life learning these things when I could have readily understood it all, It was all there just outside.

I still remember the time I had spent with my cousin, the times we bathed together when we were children in the small open bathroom with mulberry bush hanging from one side, Splashing water from the little tank that use to store the water from the well. The little garden with all the beautiful flowers and the tasty mulberry bushes. The many a wonderful evening spend playing in the faint stream that ran by the green paddy fields. I still remember the small aquarium he had, a small one, with so many little fishes in it. Nothing too fancy, no expensive fishes just the ones he had caught form the nearby stream. He had even taught me how to catch a fish with nothing but a plain piece of cloth, Alas! I had forgotten it, I had forgotten it long ago I suppose along with the sweet memories of that era.

It surprises me how much there is to tell, I never knew the faded photographs in my father’s old photo album had so much history, so many memories in it. I never knew that the characters in those pictures had a life and they were more than their innocent smiles and that they were ones very much alive. Strange what one phone call, a few minutes of someone’s voice can accomplish. I don’t want to tell anything, may be another time when I feel I am much more ready to face the truth of life.

He had called me now to tell me that he is going to Qatar, in search of a job. I am sure he got a job in there where his other uncle works, I did not so much are bother to ask what he is doing and what job he got. I did not tell him anything but I did pray for him, pray that all that is good shall only befall him and I prayed him Bon Voyage.

Tuesday, 10 April 2012

My Dysfunctional Family

I have no parents, I have a mother, and I have a father but no parents. In the conflicts of greater interests and in the great battles of domestic blitzkrieg I lost my parents. They must have thought I was dumb and mind numb, they must have thought I have no ears nor my eyes in-adept in the prevalent darkness, they must have thought I have not seen the fall of my family.  They must have thought I was deep asleep, wandering in dreams that every child cherish while they wage their futile battles to quench the devil’s thirst.

The times are tranquil now, the ominous silence persists, no more are there swearing and curses, no more the threatening sounds of apocalypse. The wounds have healed and the lines draw and as in all war we all lost. The battle has left scares deep in my heart, which no amount of time shall ever heal. What surprises me that they never felt to leave it, they left their love, they theft all the meanings that the institution of marriage held but still they have failed to leave each other and search happiness elsewhere. As much as I would love to have my family, I am not selfish, as much as the tales of evil steps trouble me; the hope for a happier life for my parents’ persists. They are perfect for each other, they know it or not, but in their frivolous pursuits of domination they doomed all hopes of happiness that the relation would ever bear. It’s sad that they would deem to that level of disgust that they could be no more stand the others presence within the same set of walls.

But, I am not sad, I am not devastated. When the days were dark and when the paths echoed with sinister forebodings. I clutched to my heart and believed in a brighter days. I took refuge among stacks of books and in the thought that ‘when winter is here can spring be far behind”. I collected my fallen self, patched what was left, made a pact with myself. I pledge myself that this is not what I shall become, I made it clear to myself that I should learn, I decided to be not like my parents when a world full of children promised to follow their parents way. I knew I would be alone and silence was my best bet, it must have hurt them bad had I took any other path. I assured myself to suffer in silence and rejuvenate when it’s all over. I went into the fade where all my sabbaticals had but two guests, me and myself.

This was an escape a less violent one, one of pure suffering and at the end the promises came true. There was spring, and there were flowers and there were butterflies. The was the fairies and there were the rainbows. But, just one sadness that I think will persist in this world of much bliss. The melancholic sense of the absence of a hand to hold on to. The poignant fact that I have no shoulder to lean on to. Out in this new world, I was to fend on my own, build it all up from scratch. But I was happy, I was peaceful.

I know that many will pity for the misfortunes I had, But I tell you don’t be. Be happy that I am what I chose to be. At the end of this very difficult choice lied one rather rare gift. The gift was the ability to let go and I think now I can after all. This blog is the final act in the rather elaborate ritual of severance.


Thursday, 29 September 2011

Mommy! Why can’t I have a Dog?

There is no surprise here, it’s not the first time that I have asked and It’s not the first time she said no. That doesn’t mean I can’t keep on asking does it? Even I wonder why I just don’t get a dog and not keep asking; surely I don’t get an answer for that too. There you have it, A question that I have been asking for so long and an answer I am as accustomed to as the question.

It all started way back, when I was in lower grades. There was one particular advertisement by the mobile company ‘Hutchison Erikson’ or Hutch then. They had a particularly cute dog chasing after a boy in it. The dog was so cute, cuddly and friendly, that I wanted one ever since. So the same evening my Mom came home and I asked her “mommy, mommy can I have a doggy”. She didn’t even looked surprised, maybe she added it to the long list of things that I usually keep asking. And of course she gave me an instantaneous no for that.

Somehow, over the years the idea of owning a dog stuck with me, I always wanted to own a dog and always kept asking my mom for one.  There were multiple times I asked her why she would not give me a dog for a birthday present or a Christmas present or something of that sort. But anything but doggy she kept on saying ‘no dog’. Then as I grew up I decided to take things on my own hand and said I will get a dog. She kept saying ‘no doggy kiddo’. Since she was always against the idea of a dog, I was particularly interested in having one.

So not us!
Other than the fact that I am a getting older by the years, I never got myself to get a dog. Every time I watch a dog on screen, I want a dog in home. My girlfriend had a dog in her house which she was terrified of, I wonder why they kept that dog. She has some kind of a phobia towards dogs. To tell the truth even I have no hope of owning a dog, whenever I decide to go get one I get goose bumps. My mom’s voice starts playing in my head. ‘Having a dog is huge responsibility, you have to feed it, you have to wash it, clean it, scrub it, you have to vaccinate it’ and so on. She makes it sound as if it harder to own a dog that to send a rocket into outer space.

Anyhow! Even I can’t see myself owning a dog in near future. With a dog phobic girlfriend, who will be my fiancĂ© in less than a couple of years and if god permits my wife in another couple of years and a overly cautious and anti-doggy mother’s voice in the head. I can’t see any possibility of having a dog. After all breaking up with a girl just over a dog is not right, is it?