Hi! I am someone who despite being quite successful in life, sees himself as a failure. My entire life, I have been trying, but could never quite connect with my parents.
I never watched cartoons, in fact, I wasn’t even allowed to watch TV. I used to get only two hours to play until the 8th Standard. I was never allowed to go out with my friends (I went out maybe just once or twice, after quite a bit of scene, involving a lot of begging, crying, and future promises of doing chores or not going out again), but then if I got sad or morose, I would tell myself that probably that is how children were supposed to be treated to prevent them from ‘going out of hand’. Until the 10th, all I was familiar with were beatings from my parents and the yellow table at home where I would study. Everyone in the complex knew that I was reprimanded a lot and all the children from my age group, and even the smaller ones used to make fun of me.
Consider this a confession. I am now 24 years old, with three successful businesses of my own, I have never taken any money from anyone after my first year in Engineering, not even college fees, no pocket money, no rent, nada!
Let me give you some examples of my parents’ behaviour towards me.
I couldn’t see with my right eye for a month. Why? Because my mother had thrown a pen at me and it had punctured my eye.
I was once hurt so bad I was unconscious for a few minutes. Courtesy my dad; he had attacked my right ear.
Remember those windows during our childhood that had rods, with holes in them? That rod had once pierced through my back; the mark is still there.
I was once left outside the house only in my underwear; my neighbour, and the girl I had a crush on, both of them had seen me in that state. For a child, this was big, and this incident traumatised me. The memory of it is still vivid in my mind; I get chills as I sit down to write about it.
I discovered I am stronger than the nakli MRF bat, and after a few years the asli one too because they would break, but I didn’t.
Apparently, I am hotter than garam khunti. If you know what I mean.
All in all, I was a nervous little child.
My mother was a teacher in the same school in which I was studying, which meant that anything I did, the teachers directly reported me to my mom, that in turn meant that I ended up being scolded every time for the smallest of mistakes!
Not that I didn’t have my moments, I scored a hundred per cent in 10th; my photograph came out in the newspaper. I was the ideal child in the complex I lived in. All mothers used to give my example to their children. Yet, I knew my bargain; I knew what I was sacrificing to snatch these small moments of pleasure.
In my 11th and 12th grades, I was given some freedom, but I misused it by playing video games. I sought happiness in winning those virtual games, which meant I sometimes bunked IIT tuition classes to play those games, and I am not blaming anyone for that; I take full responsibility. I eventually got caught as my teacher called up my mom, and she walked directly into the gaming parlour. Of course, I got what I deserved including—but not limited to—being told that their good-for-nothing son was playing video games, so in case he did not get into IIT, it would be because he was wasting time on stupid PS3. This was an additional problem—every humiliating story of mine was shared with everyone around me, right from me masturbating in my room, to a love letter that I had received—everything was shared with everyone, my friends, my neighbours, my relatives, fucking everyone!
Of course, I got quite average marks in Jee-mains! I was admitted into a mediocre college, and the cycle continued. At least now they couldn’t physically reach me, and I could do whatever I wanted; the only thing they could threaten me with was not sending me money to pay for rent, food, college etc. I started earning on my own, I didn’t take even a cent from my parents after the first six months, but I would still be told off; I eventually started lying and began to get rather good at it.
I completed my engineering in five years, and then reality hit me hard, that I have nothing to show for the last five years. This just emboldened my parents that they had always been right about everything. (They were not fully aware of business opportunities until then).
I eventually did tell them, though, after a lot of pressure from my friends and my girlfriend. I told them about one of my ventures, which I was forced to close immediately since I was given an ultimatum that I would be thrown out of the house. I disagreed, but I was so angry that I walked out myself in the early hours of the morning. I told them I had the right to make my own decisions; I thought they would buckle under the pressure of me leaving the house. Unfortunately, they didn’t. I had to stay outside for the entire day, in the extreme cold weather in Delhi, with nothing to eat, in half-sleeved shirt and pants, shuttling between the terrace and the park and the road to avoid detection from someone in the complex. I didn’t have my phone or purse on me, or else I guess I would have gone off on my own, but unfortunately, I had to return home this time. Initially, I was not allowed inside. I remember my mom saying “Akkad theek jagah aa gayi“, or something like to that effect, but around midnight, my father finally opened the door.
I knew that something like that was likely to happen, which is why I had warned my friends who were forcing me to tell my parents about my life, but after this incident, they never questioned me. Most of my friends were in Pune, and the one in Delhi even told me off a bit for not coming to her place, which was about 20 kms away from mine. She went on to say that her parents would have adopted me and that she would have stood by me, but of course, I could never be a burden! I believe she really meant what she said, but I also think she said what she did because she had a pure heart, but I couldn’t really do that to anyone.
I transferred my business to my roommates, but as far as my father was concerned, that business is closed.
The story goes now that I am a failure. I am about to do an MBA now, Bits Pilani, in the Pilani campus. I still cannot go out with my friends; I have almost no social circle, whatever I have exists on Whatsapp, my girlfriend hates my parents and expects them not to live with us when we get married, an expectation she has been vocal about. I sleep by 11, and I have to get up by 6 to make tea, bring up the newspaper, see to nashta etc. My parents don’t encourage clubbing and partying. I have been mocked in front of neighbours and maids for reacting to this confinement.
I have been told that I play the victim card, but I believe that I really am a victim! Recently, my mom has started thinking that since the relationship between us is not ideal, I might not take care of her as she gets older. That is, of course, far from the truth. She wants my wife to be able to take care of her. My relatives now no longer keep in touch with my family, although all of them are in touch with me, especially my siblings. My relatives do interact with my dad, though, sometimes.
My mom is not that bad, really. She was much loved by all her students, even when she was in Nagpur, and now in Delhi as well, so much so that a lot of parents come home to tell my mother how she has changed their ward’s life. It’s just that I somehow became a missed opportunity. This is my biggest regret, not being able to connect with her. I have tried telling her that, but she is way too unstable to understand anything at this age, and if I do say anything, she would threaten not to eat, or talk, or would start breaking things. Did I tell you that she broke two of my phones, one laptop, her own TV? Yes, you read that right! If there is one thing she is, that is hot-tempered.
I wouldn’t say I’ve had the worst childhood, yet, I shall always look back upon my past with a lot of anger and regret. And frankly, that is just sad, and not something I would wish upon others. I hope to move on. After all, when life chucks lemons at you, it’s best you get on to make lemonade!
Featured image via Getty