Part 1 | Me, Me and US
I was born in a family who had a small house in the foothills of a hilly town of Mussoorie. I remember everyone calling it Rajpur. Though I didn’t come to live with my family for long, I still have some recall about them. My dad was a street thug and more of a heart throb. He had a way of life, everyone who looked at him was instantaneously mesmerized by his presence. As with most bad boys, he didn’t stick with us for long. We were six brothers and sisters; our mom was very hard working and had a habit of not sitting in one place for long. Her in-laws were not particularly supportive of her and despite of her being pregnant, they used to beat her and deprive her of food for durations.
Then, I was born. When I was born, I had an innate sense of fear towards the world. Maybe because my mom had to go through hell when I was in her belly. I can still sense her running to protect me from those savages that left nothing to hurt her and me. I used to cry and try to help her, but as I was too small, I really just couldn’t do anything.
Right after my birth, I started to notice that everything and everyone around me wanted to play with me. People used to pick me up and kiss me with love, cuddle me till they have had enough of me. I used to wonder, why are they doing this? But, at the very same time, I used to feel a sense of warmth inside me every single time someone wanted to tend to me.
Things were kind of hazy for the first few days, I barely remember seeing my mom for all I care. However, with time everything started to get a bit clearer. I was praised because I had fair skin and everybody said that I had very cute eyes. I was loved. But still my mom wasn’t. She was made to earn every bite she ate and that made me anxious and angry.
Days started to pass and finally the world became a bit clear to me. I noticed greed, opportunism, self-centeredness and self-righteous to the level where I just couldn’t understand what was I supposed to get from all this. From my stand point, world was a happy place, at least it is supposed to be. But it wasn’t. My sadness became a part of me and I started to be more quiet than usual. My mother used to often ask me to cheer up, she tried to bring me fresh food that she hunted, or gave me warm milk, but I wasn’t happy.
Then things changed!
It was the month of January in the year 2009. Air had that classical Rajpur chill. It was a bright sunny morning and I was bathing in the bright sun light, when suddenly the old Iron front door of our house opened. I could see someone standing outside but as I was busy playing, I didn’t really notice much. Then suddenly someone came in and started looking at me. I was a little scared at first, he picked me up and said “Hmmm, didn’t I finally get you back, right, Gombo”.
Continued to Part 2….