Reminded of the time when I was younger than 10 and going to school in Bangalore.
Particularly this one time when my father had returned to India and had brought with him a little gift from Muscat where he worked. The most unique little play thing I had ever seen and nothing had fascinated me so much. The dearest thing it was to me. So much so that I once took it with me to a place of authority, seriousness and study – the school. I held it safe in my shorts pocket and not a single moment could I forget that it was there so close to me. But it was still away from my sight and I ached for the slightest opportunity to take it out, feel it in my hand, play with it and look at that beautiful thing, the most beautiful, love- filled object. Finally there was a moment I could do it. It was a free class, no teacher except for one girl that was chosen to monitor the rest of the students. I remember we all were squatted on the floor and were told to just not make noise and keep to ourselves and not do anything unacceptable. I looked around, the enthusiasm gushing through me to take it out of my pocket. I reach in, I feel the paper, the folds.. the art wok already vivid in front of me. I finally held it before me and I’m pretty sure I hadn’t even realized that I had the biggest smile on my little face anyone could have ever seen at the time. My head down and admiring my little toy, the world and everyone around me disappeared into a blackness and all that existed was my plaything and my admiration of it.
A trauma that I remember now at age 27, April 29 2020 happened the next moment. The monitor of the class, the girl, noticed that I was ‘playing’ with something, which was totally unacceptable. In a split second I realized that she noticed and I looked up.. half in shock at why she should care, half in shock of the danger that this brought. In that timeless moment, she bent towards me, snatched it from my hand, gave it a cursory look and ripped it straight in half. Then into four pieces. Then haphazardly into 6.
The most painful experience of all my life and even right now as I imagine the hurt it caused me. I did not know what to do for there was nothing that could be done to bring it back to life or function. I felt I had died and my breathing made it more unbearable to even be alive that moment. My life and all my meaning was torn into two and the only object of love, affection and all things good and beautiful had been destroyed in a second and was forever locked away from me in the deepest darkness of meaningless existence. I had experienced my first taste of the receiving end of cruelty and my first true loss.
Very well written, you have poured your heart out literally, one thing is certain in life that every body around you will hurt you someday, it’s just a matter of time, but that doesn’t mean the end of the world, it becomes a new chapter in our wonderful life, cheers buddy
Very beautifully expressed. It had me like a gripping novel even for those few moments.
Keep rocking 👍🏻
I could literally feel the joy and the pain in the expression. Great writing! Keep it going!
Lots of love
To me as a writer, this brought out all those feelings of passion for writing.