‘I
cannot have short hair as it gives me an uncivilized look. So are all the boys uncivilized?’ she speaks to herself with an expressionless face, barely
controlling tears that are about to roll down.
‘I
cannot ride a bike, it’s dangerous. I
shouldn’t stay out after 6:30, it gets dark. I shouldn’t have friends outside
my classroom, they cannot be trusted. I shouldn’t practice martial arts as I
can get hurt. Public transport for college is a really bad idea, it’s tiring and
uncomfortable. I shouldn’t be friends with boys. I cannot be seen using my
phone twice or thrice a day. English movies or any movies at all induce dirty,
vulgar, obscene, inappropriate conduct in me. Running or extensive workouts
will make me tired so I should totally avoid it. Tattoos are indecent and cause
skin infection. I cannot make trips alone or with my friends. I cannot spend a
night outside my home. I should always maintain a low profile in college. I
shouldn’t even bother facing challenges; they do nothing but develop my personality.
I should probably quit dreaming about someday getting to enjoy adventure sports
as they are of no use to decent and civilized people like us. I’m obliged to
dedicate myself to my studies and ultimately settle at home with a respected
job. If I don’t do so, I can never live with a head held high.’ Her eyes are
already wet and the list goes on without an end. Though, these words are
contradicting with her personality. The most important thing to this lady is
stepping out of her comfort zone and never ever has she known how to give up.
But when it comes to her overprotective dad, she doesn’t know how to even
fight.
“I want to challenge the ways of
the society and make people think that why they do what they do, so that their
actions are not driven by fear but are driven by a will to see the results.” She reads her diary and tries to remember when she wrote these lines. It’s
been a frequent practice for her to sit alone and think about what she was,
what she wants to be, what she is right now and what’s stopping her. Only this time she wanders about an extra
thing she wishes to have; it’s her dad’s support.
For a
long time she’s been trying to make her dad understand that she’s no more a
child who needs to be told what to do and what not to do. If only her dad knew
her better, he would have known what her daughter is capable of. She believes
that there is a point in parenthood when you have to stop being a guardian and
start being a friend. Trying to make her
dad believe the same thing, she desperately tries to open up his mind every now
and then. Only now she’s doubtful if she still has a long way ahead or she’s
just on the wrong path.
“I’m sorry dad for last night
that you had to shout at me. Though you were the one shouting and screaming, I
was the one being accused of arrogance. I know I could hurt my hand but that
wasn’t the thing going through my mind at that moment. I just wanted to do the
opposite of what you were telling me to. Even I hate myself for this but I’m
helpless. I want you to please read everything patiently before jumping to any
conclusions. I’m only writing this to you because I cannot tell you everything
on your face.” She goes on writing in her diary.
“The thing is that I always feel
that you pointlessly try to control me without any valid reason. This isn’t
just about last night, I have been thinking about this for a long time (a
couple of years to be specific). It’s a very difficult task for me to open up
to you like this but somehow I feel that I’ll be relieved if you just know what’s
going on in my head. I know you’d be angry but trust me, I have been angrier. I
don’t think being scared of you will help me nor do me any good. All I want is
a healthy father and daughter relationship after all. I know we do not share a
healthy bond between us and you know it too. Lately, I have been feeling that
you never actually supported me for anything. Sure, you supported me
financially and gave me all the facilities I need. So many times you and mum
stayed awake so I could sleep. So many times you stepped outside your comfort
zone to protect your family, to make sure we were fine. You truly loved us and
cared for us. All I have ever been is a disappointment though; you still always
managed to show me that you love me. I’m grateful to you. But I believe there
are reasons for me being like this” as
the page comes to an end, she takes a pause.
The main
motive for writing these few pages to her dad is to break the walls of his mind
by letting him know what he never knew about her. He’ll be 60 years old in the
next 5 years. He has technically seen the world change around him; obviously
it’s not going to be easy to break the wall that took 55 years to build. She
takes a deep breath and continues writing. “Ever
since I started going to school I used to be a scared and depressed kid sitting
in corner of the class, always afraid to get along with people and I always
found it so hard to talk to someone. I never actually enjoyed being a part of
the group. I always wished if I could be the center of attraction but I never
knew how to do it. I never had a friend to talk to and never had somebody to
eat lunch with. I used to walk from one block to another in recess, pretending
to be busy so that no one thinks I’m alone. For eight long yeas I did that.
Even in the sports period I would be the last person for someone to take me on
their team. I always felt rejected. I never had any special skill and I never
took part in any co curricular activity. I bet nobody even cared if I was
there. All of this used to create a mental pressure because of which I couldn’t
study hard enough. My marks kept dropping consistently and eventually I failed
in class 11th. Out of all
that negativity I started to grow up a little bit. When we changed school, I
made a few friends and shared a deep bond with them. I used to solve their
problems; everyone came to seek my advice when they didn’t know what to do. I
saved a lot of friendships and I even helped a lot of people with their family
issues. Even though I had friends, I was
still depressed. That said, it’s no surprise I had to work the hell out of me
to even concentrate on the studies. Eventually I passed 12th but I
wish I had someone to tell me it’s OK. I wish you would have been there to
understand all of this and tell me how to get over my negativity and choose my
career wisely. But don’t worry about that now. Failures don’t scare me anymore.
I know how to talk to people and become friends with a stranger and how to
judge if a person is genuine or not. I matured a lot since then.”
She knew
what her problem was. She was never actually good at anything. All she wanted
to do was to find something that she’s good at, excel in that thing and earn
everyone’s interest and even make her dad proud. The only thing she could be
good at was arts (which weren’t her subject). She still very foolishly chose
engineering just as every other brainless zombie passing out from school does; without
giving a single care about doing what they actually like. It’s just a career
choice right? What’s the big fuzz about it anyway? It’s not like your happiness
depends on it. Well she found out just that. Yet she smiles because choosing to
become an engineer was the best wrong decision she ever took. And the selection
of the engineering college was the second best. Gurgaon College of Engineering
(GCE) was a little different than the conventional colleges that pop up in the
head when someone thinks about engineering. Comparing GCE with the other
colleges was like comparing an insignificant 10-mm gravel stone with, well, the
earth. FYI, that gravel was somewhere in the middle of Haryana surrounded by
farm fields and a state highway that lacked public transport.
“I’m glad that I went to GCE.” She writes. “Had I been in any other institute, I would have become an alcoholic by
now.”
“The college was a totally new
world for me. In the beginning, teachers speaking Haryanvi was a big deal for
me but after these 4 years, I wouldn’t be much bothered if a robot kills a man
and runs away with his wife singing Punjabi folk songs. I’ve seen a lot in
these 4 years. I’ve seen kids getting beaten up by gangs, I’ve had people shot
in front of me, I even got to know that a girl was raped where I used to sit
and study. I’ve seen police manhandling students. I’ve seen students beating up
teachers and smashing windows. I’ve seen a man’s head run over by a truck on
highway. I’ve had a friend die in the campus itself. I rode 80 km on the scooter on
the examination day and traveled in Haryana roadways from gurgaon to maruti
kunj on the same day just to complete my syllabus for the exam next morning.
I’ve driven so many times on the highway I probably have more driving
experience than you. I’ve seen my friend’s parents having extra marital affairs
and what not. I’ve seen a lot of good things too. I’ve seen a homeless guy
feeding a cow even when he didn’t have anything to wear in the month of February.
I once saved a blind owl from traffic in the middle of a highway. I even know
how to get along with dogs. They never bite me; even cats. I’ve seen a jaatt
resolving a fight. So many times I’ve worked so hard for so long and whenever
I’m close to giving up I just reach the goal. It always feels good.” Writing the last line she
remembers how her dad always insists on keeping her in the comforts and how he
totally disregards the fact that hard work and training are important not just
in the office but in every aspect of life. She feels disgusted when she
remembers her dad telling her to always choose the path of minimum risk. What
she has inside her right now is a burning rage and desire to show her dad that
she’s a person who has surpassed her previous generations long ago and is on
her way to create her own legacy. Although she acknowledges the seeds of
negativity and self doubt that had been sowed by her dad, she isn’t ready to
give up yet. With an open heart she
continues writing..
“I’ve also been to a lot of
places where you would have never allowed me to go. I’ve tried a lot of things
too. I tired alcohol a few times, cigarettes, and i even smoked weed a few times.
I’m glad i had an open mind for everything because of the people i met and i
also came to conclusions that all of this stuff is actually very harmful and
that meditation, hard work and physical training are the only thing that can
lead to peace of mind. I explored a lot of things about Hindu mythology as well.
I also believe that Ramayana and Mahabharata never actually happened physically
but instead these tales try to impact the society in a positive way. For
example, the stories of Krishna being black and radha being white helps counter
racism and discrimination based on color. These tales also help us understand our own mind. They explain how every human creates his own imagined version of
the world which leads to the concept that every human is therefore Brahma,
creator of his own aham; we knot our imagination with fear to create aham and
how the two tools, tapasya and yagya can help us unknot the mind, outgrow fear
and discover atma, i.e. our true self. I came to believe that physical and
mental training along with meditation can help us achieve the state of fully
expanded mind called brahmaan. I also learned how a broad mind does not fear
death or seek validation and witnesses the world as it is; and how the atma is
shiv who performs tapasya, and is self contained and self sufficient; and how
the atma is also Vishnu who performs yagya to nourish everyone even though he
himself needs no nourishment. I have studied western philosophy and Chinese
philosophy and a few parts of Buddhism; they all tell the same thing. This is
why i always feel the need to justify stepping out of my comfort. This is why i
want to struggle and always choose the rough path. This is why i want to go
through hard physical training because i believe that if i adapt to the tough
surroundings, i will become strong and wise. This is human nature. The human
body and mind adapts to whatever it goes through consistently. And this is why
i always feel bad and angry whenever you force me to stay inside my comfort
zone. Even dayanand had to leave his home to find the truth. I wish I had your
emotional support in everything I wanted to do. But I don’t remember ever being
motivated by you for something special. Dad, I want you to
know me, to understand me. I can’t take it anymore. I need you to know that i
am a grown person. I still have to learn a lot of things but i really wish if u
could respect me and my decisions. I want to be a good daughter to you but I’m
getting really discouraged. All i want
to do with my life is learn, and never get old. I always want to keep an open
mind towards new things and i don’t want to have a closed mind that rejects
anything contradicting with the already existing mentality. I want to do
something that I’m good at and make that my career. But i want to do everything with your
acceptance. I don’t want to lie anymore.”
As she
finishes writing a tear drop falls on the last word of the page. She notices
the time in the clock. It’s 2 am and everyone in the house is fast asleep. Her
mind wanders off again in the depth of questions she keeps asking herself. ‘Why
do I have to get the water bottle, charger, everything I need before setting on
my table? So that I don’t have to get out of my room before everyone falls
asleep? Why do I feel more comfortable when nobodies around? Why can’t I go out
and sit with them? Why can’t I stand listening to them? Why do I need to claim
my own space separated from the rest of the house?’ but all the commotion in
her head finally comes to rest when sleep takes over and she dozes off on the
table itself.
Next
morning she feels a hand on her head. It’s her dad gently waking her up,
ignoring the “POTENTIAL CAUSE OF A HEART ATTACK” lying open in front of him. This
isn’t something she didn’t expect. She knows her dad never shows any curiosity
in her writings so she doesn’t worry about it. But she has already decided that
breakfast table is going to be where she drops the bomb.
As the
time comes, everything goes according to the routine; mom in the kitchen; dad
on the table with a news paper; brother roaming around the house like a hungover
homeless guy with his eyes half closed. She’s all ready to leave for the class.
Nervous, anxious, yet determined, she puts her diary in front of her dad. Her dad
stares at it and then at her with a questioning gaze in his eyes and she says
with a trembling voice ‘I need you to read these pages’ as she opens it up and
drags it towards him. Her dad knows it’s an unusual thing happening. He picks
the diary, adjusts his glasses and starts reading. 5 minutes gone he’s still
reading quietly and the situation has captured the attention of her mom who
already has an idea of what’s going down. She knows that the diary is not less
than a knife and making her dad read all this is nothing less than stabbing his
mind. The diary is definitely going to be blood stained after everything’s
over.
Eventually
her dad finishes reading and keeps the diary on the table with a calm and blank
look on his face. That look is familiar. She knows he’s probably trying to make
out some sense out of everything he read. As soon as she realizes she isn’t
ready for whatever bullshit her dad is going to throw at her, frightened, she
picks up the weapon of mass destruction and rushes out of the house, starts the
activa and rides off to a place where she can sit alone and lay out her further
plans.
20
minutes later she’s at her regular place and her mind wanders off to the time
where she’ll remember how she sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee,
staring out of the window as the blood stained knife lay next to her handbag,
covered with her blue silk scarf. Slowly as the fear fades away, she feels her
wings growing bigger and wider and she feels more determined to become
something. She may fight with her dad and she may make him face some harsh
realities but she knows that she’s not leaving his side. It’s for the
betterment of their relationship after all. She loves him and to protect that
love is the only purpose of this fight. So she smiles and prepares herself to
face him again.
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