Tuesday, December 13, 2011


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“Unreal isn’t it? One more year of school and that’s it,” said Janet in a small, distant voice, while observing people in the train.

“Yeah,” I replied nodding my head.

“Next year is going to determine the path we will all take.”

“Uhuh… I just want to go back to primary school Sonia. You know… when we didn’t have to worry about VCE, grades, nor learn a whole set of rules on how to behave to live in a society,” she stated, as she observed two kids who were sitting opposite us.

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“I just want to be a child again,” she whispered.

Unable to respond, I remained quiet. I’m thrilled that I’m not a child anymore, although I wouldn’t admit it out loud for it would seem awkward and a bit out of place for my reasons are completely different to the boys and girls of my age. Frankly, I can’t wait till I turn 18 to move out of my parent’s house. But revisit my childhood? No Way! That would be the last thing I’d do.

All the girls doing VCE want to go back in time. I however don’t ever want to experience; those nights of interrogation on who my favourite parent was, nor do I want to stand in the middle as my parents fight as our relatives watch the spectacle, adding fuel to the fire. Nor do I want to feel the constant loneliness I’ve felt in all of my life, for I felt incapable to love and be loved. I mean, who’s going to love me, when my own parents didn’t, for they never had any time for me. My Nani (mum’s mum in Indian) was an exception. She was the only one who cared. She called me every afternoon when I came home from school in grade one.

My parents did care about me! My parents appeared to truly care on the days I came home with my semester grades. I can’t say whether I hated or liked those times, because my feelings are quite confused. True enough that my parents bonded quite well while giving me the lecture. On the contrary, my father hit me with the “belt” for failing almost all my subjects except the ‘reading’ section.

Getting beaten was quite common in India, especially if it’s regarding bad grades. Dad’s used the ‘belt’ to discipline the boys while mum seemed to have their own method with girls. As for my parents, I was their only child and technically speaking I am their son. My mother had a miscarriage before I was born. I should have had an older brother and had he been born, things would have been so much more tolerable. Especially with my Dadhi (dad’s mum) who’d be thrilled! She wouldn’t nag my mother constantly, nor would she spread rumours and talk ill about her to my father.

My mother used to confide all her sorrows in me. She couldn’t divorce my father because the society wouldn’t accept her or me. She didn’t want to burden her parents with all her troubles. Listening to her woes constantly, made me pity her and felt protective of her. There were certain things I’ve experience in my childhood that were so painful to me that I’ve chosen to block that part of my memory. Conversely I still have bits and pieces left in my memory that are scattered and unable to fit into the picture of my life.

My Dadhi had always said that my parents were happy before I was born. Having heard that all my childhood from her I’ve come to and have always believed that I was the sole source of their arguments. This was true to an extent because my dad would comment; “ wherever Sonia goes, she’s unable to socialize well with other kids and she’s so stubborn. God knows where she got that trait from.” That would set my mum off. Because of incidents like these, I set about studying, improving myself in everyway, and polishing my manners, to appease my parents since the age of eight. I guess having done all that hard work, the tension had eased for a period of time and they started going grocery shopping together. As minute as this may appear, it’s an enormous step for my parents. However, whenever my Dadhi visited us, she’d wreck all my hard work and bring us all back to square one. Only Goddess Kali knows what she tells her son. What I found appalling is that even today, she hates to see my parents doing the shopping even if it’s their only outing together, with the exception of society parties; which cannot be avoided unfortunately.

I guess I’ve always tried hard to convince myself that our family was perfect, and despite all, we would support one another come what may. But little did I know what was a head. The trust I placed in my mother goes down the gurgler because she’s BBC World news, and will always discuss my matters with everyone. My father on the other hand, remains silent as he watches his daughter, his own flesh and blood, being insulted by his brother in front of everyone, because his daughter corrected his brother when he was speaking ill of her mother for she was not present.

This was a pint in my life that’s been imprinted in my memory for life. This was a point where I had to stop pretending that my world was perfect and see things for what they really were and accept this harsh reality. All of these incidents have scarred me for life. My opinion on marriage is quite low for theres no guarantee it’ll work out. Besides, I never want my or anyone’s kids to go through this sort of experience. Who knows, they may hate me for that one day. I’d rather not risk such a thing. Life is meaningless until I get a good VCE score, and an entry into Law and Commerce at Melbourne University, for I’ll demonstrate to all of my relatives that I can rise above them. Then no one would object or comment when I’d leave home to live in peaceand my parents wont argue because of me. This is the future I want and I’ll get it because I’ll work for it. And when I do achieve this, I’ll have some sense of peace, for my parents wont argue because of me and the curse that befell upon them the day I was born, would be finally lifted.

“OUCH,” I yelled.

“We just missed out stop because you were in lala land…” complained Janet.

“OH.. I’m so sorry.,” I apologized, as we got off the next stop.

I can change my name, pick up a new identity but I can never escape my parents nor my past; for I’m a product of my parents. I’ll always have a bit of them in me, no matter what, and my past that exists in my mind will haunt forevertill I accept it. All I can do is build a better future for myself because this is who I and. This is where I come from.

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