Introspection - I

I am an overweight, jobless, Engineering graduate, depressed Indian girl, and This is my backstory. A flashback of my life so far, a recollection of things which made me who I am today. The events which happened once upon a time. The things which tore me down, and things which built and rebuilt me.

As I have grown up and begun to understand things which had been hurting me in the past, I have understood what happened when I had been too young to know why did it feel so painful to be me. Some terrible things had happened to me ever since I was born. 

I had parents. They had been arranged married very young, and they did not love each other. There was no end to their fights; they abused, and cursed each other while they sat me down for study hour. That was when I started wishing I was dead. On the back of the notebook I did my divisions and multiplications in, the page where other kids doodled, I wrote how good it would be to die and get out of this hell. 

My holidays, weekends and festivals were marked by them fighting at their loudest and the meanest selves. As they went Diwali/Holi shopping, leaving me and my sister behind, we sat together waiting for them to bring back sweets and crackers. But they always made sure that they came back home fighting, throwing around the place whatever they had bought, in a fit of rage. 

In summers, Ma got up the earliest, dressed us up for school, cooked breakfast, dressed up and took us to the same school she used to teach at. When school ended, she brought us back, cooked lunch, and then helped us with our homework. In winters she cooked the two meals before leaving for school. Papa would come home for lunch, and would ensure that he pointed out how horrible he thought Ma's cooking was. She spent her days taking care of home, us and working as a teacher, but Papa always made sure that she does not feel good about herself. Reminding her of all the faults she had every single day, he killed the little self-esteem she had grown despite her own irresponsible parents. 

When he came back home in the evening he wanted to be left alone, shooing us away with his shouts if we tried to tell him anything. After the worst fights Papa would leave the house and Ma would stand at the doorstep, waiting for him and crying. Never telling us how she felt, or why she was crying for Papa when he had wronged her so much. With eyes full of tears she used to tell us that we should study harder, and make a good life for ourselves. I wished Ma left him, took us far away were it was only the three of us. She used to talk of it during the fights, but she never did it. She did take us to her parents during the summer and winter holidays.

It was a place where we never saw anyone fighting. My Nana and Nani were madly in love with each other. The meals there, were full of cheerful laughters and hearty conversations. There was no hatred in anyone's eyes, no one threw a tantrum if the Dal had a little more or less salt than desired, or the Roti was not the perfect round. It was my happy place.

When I got fourteen, someone got sick and my parents had to travel around for an year. Ma left me with her parents, admitted me in a school in their city. It was a dream come true for me, I was happy. But that was about to change. What I had thought of as a blessing, was soon to became a curse.

to be continued...