When life becomes a question...
…it needs a heart to understand it
LIFE BY BISMA MOHUDIN BHAT
“Like a caged bird, I look for a straw
Like an ocean wave, I fetch my shore”……
But Alas! I find nothing…
Life never paced up since I reached my teens…
My Doll House, my colorful room seemed to me as a locked prison, and mom and dad were the two jailers who never let me out, and if I ever wanted to go out…….
Ah! all in vain…….
Trying to seek permission was thought being manner less. I need a lot of courage so that I can voice my opinion about life that’s far more bold than being caged, depressed, tense, unhappy and what not…….
I was not born the way I am now, because no one was, but that cry baby habit got stuck to my personality and is continuing till now…….
Here now I stand before you a worried and unhappy chap to whom parents have been to their worst in terms of behavior…….
I surely don’t remember what was that I tricked wrong with my life that it caged me in such a powerful net of misery, anguish and disgust that even breathing has become a problem and a matter of question that why I sighed this way and why not that way…….
When I am silent, they think something is fishy, and if I talk a lot, thought to be excited about something. When I dress up good, they think she is out for a dress competition and in case I dress poor, thought to be mourning some loss.
If I say I need something…….
My Lord! I am first placed in a court and questioned why and what for, and if luckily I am able to answer something, then a judicial probe is ordered and a judge is placed for an enquiry and till then, I am crippled with lectures, taunts, arrogant and stupid words and so I give up hope of getting that thing…….
Even if it’s a necessity. STUDIES, it’s a matter that has been salt to my mother’s recipe and smoke to my dad’s cigarette, despite heavy syllabus, excessive homework, frequently held exams and expectations of everyone if I still do better, maybe not the best, lock down the net (that has always been with mom), no more TV (my mom’s favorite show was always plying), no more outings ( that were never up in existence) are the shouts from our house…….
I can never forget how cheaply my mom compares me to other children…….
She did this…and He did that….
To Hell with everyone…….
If I was nothing, why didn’t they kill me as soon as they realized this…….
If I was an unreasonable chap, why are they still gazing at me? Why don’t they pick up a knife and slay me like Hell…….
Oh! a wild reason behind…….
Perhaps they will get something out of my first income as an interest for making me study…….
Or have a biscuit for a chat that my daughter is a doctor or an engineer…….
I do agree they are putting their best to make me literate. Literate, I would say because education is far beyond pen and paper…….
But on the other hand they on every tick of clock make me realize that I was born dull…….
I know they are trying to protect me from evil and disloyal world but their way is absurd…….
One might think that whisk of adolescence is making me write this, but this is absolutely no philosophy but an eclipsed reality of parents who snatched the colors of my world and made it dark for me…….
A famous Hindi song says…….
“Har dil mein armaan hote toh hain,
Bas koi samjhe zara”
(Every heart has its dreams, the thing is to understand them).
I also have many dreams, my ambitions. And I can’t change my mindset … This time I am crossing such a tough stage where I need understanding… Just understanding.
Poor mind always strikes an idea of suicide but thinks of their reputation, history is testimony to the fact that millions of teenagers suicide just and just due to parental trap…….
Killing your child in teens, wasn’t it better to abort it the time you were going to become heartless parents???????
For now, I stand with my arms up towards the sky praying to God to kindly send a heart for my mother and a fist full of understanding for my father…
God is never wrong, never mistaken, but I was quite unlucky that he forgot to give my mother a heart…….
For now, I stand crying and asking my God, why was I born unlucky???????
Lastupdate on : Tue, 29 Nov 2011 21:30:00 Makkah time
Lastupdate on : Tue, 29 Nov 2011 18:30:00 GMT
Lastupdate on : Wed, 30 Nov 2011 00:00:00 IST
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