I was born and brought up in a family where time was more valuable than money. I always got money much more than I wanted but never the time that I always cherished for.
Both my parents were working and I was left on my own most of the times. I spent my evenings either in foster homes or in libraries where I heard and read innumerable stories and fairy tales. And I spent my nights fantasising about that perfect guy from all the fairy tales who’d come in my life and change it forever.
When I was in school, I hated my friends for none of them read and all of them seemed to be immatured and I was easily bored of them. So I borrowed novels from library and started reading them even in school.
The more I wanted to spend time with my parents, the more I was left alone. Meetings, projects, business, deals, tenders; these were the only words I heard when they were at home which was very very rare. I wouldn’t see them for weeks together sometimes. The more I missed them, the more I immersed myself into the novels, the only friends that I had. Only other person that lived with me was the maid who was the only boon in my otherwise meaningless existence.
I was growing more and more a-social for I couldn’t bring myself to go anywhere. I confined myself to my room, my books, my gadgets and immersed myself in words. Then one fateful day my life did change. No, I didn’t find the perfect guy. Not yet.
I had just returned home, completely drenched, my top sticking to my body, unaware of his existence I just tossed it up and threw the wet cloth on the bed. I forgot to lock the door and if not for the maid who hit dad with a flower vase, I don’t know what would have happened that day!
Mom was called and what followed was a heated argument which ended up in a divorce. Nobody even cared to ask me how I felt or what I wanted to do. We changed cities but nothing else changed. I was still alone in the crowd of another city and my mother now worked even more to make both the ends meet and I thank my mom that she at least took the maid along for my company.
I’d often wake up screaming, “I hate you, Dad!” in the middle of the night having nightmares. “I was your little girl, not a toy, god damn it!”
I swore to myself that I was not going to let any other male get close to me, neither physically nor mentally. I hated my father. I was and am ashamed to even call him my father. What he did was not only unpardonable but also severely punishable. But a divorce wasn’t the punishment he deserved. That was just letting him go without punishing. But my maid could only share my pain, do nothing else and my mom didn’t have the time to sit with me and even share a meal, let alone understand my feelings.
I was not just scarred but also scared. Of being hurt again. So, I created a wall around me and I never let anybody in. Novels weren’t the friends anymore that helped me pass time, but they became drugs that was my way of escaping from the truth and ironies of life. What an irony!
I always talked to god in the form of letters and drafts and I was just living the life He had thrust upon me. I was scheming things and searching for a way to get out of this drudgery that I bore every single day. And this time I cursed my mom to have brought the maid along for every single attempt of my ‘escape’ turned into me being taken to hospital and being treated only because of the maid.
Then my life changed again and this time for good. A man entered my life who was nothing like I had imagined all men to be. He was considerate, caring and understanding. He listened to me, he always asked me how I felt, he made me laugh, he held my hands when I seemed to be drifting apart in my chain-of-thoughts and slowly he tore down the wall that I had created around my heart and entered inside my heart and my mind.
In the two months that we had been together, he gave me more happiness than my parents had given me in all my life. Somehow, a hand-made greeting by him or a small poem from him gave me much more happiness than the expensive gadgets that my mom brought for me from her foreign tours. The result of his presence in my life was that I was no longer the asocial woman that I had been all my life. I wanted to go out and see the world. With him. I wanted to go to movies, dine at fine restaurants, go shopping in swanky malls, get funky accessories, I wanted to live life. With him. For him.
He patiently accompanied me everywhere and always smiled genuinely even when I made him wait for hours together while shopping. He always genuinely complimented and also didn’t hesitate to call a spade a spade even if it meant that we would have a big fight later. I threw tantrums and he bore every single one of them without complaining, loving me more and more every single day. He took me to movies, he took me to restaurants and he gave me small surprises every now and then and filled me, my heart, my life with all the love he had. I was a baby for him, a toy that he never played with.
He taught me how to live life and he made me strong and independent. He made me realise that I was also somebody in this world and that I had my own identity. I soon learned to have self-respect and to live passionately. He delved into my heart and mind and he brought out the person that I never was but always wanted to be. I had stopped dreaming but he not only gave me the courage to dream but also the passion to pursue it.
My mom of course had no time to be with me but my maid did notice the drastic change in me. She too encouraged me and supported me, like always. I thanked Him from the bottom of the heart and my feelings for him had substituted the complaints that I always wrote in the letters to Him. I told Him, “I love him immensely and would propose him tomorrow as I want to live all my life with him and please do not spoil the beautiful life You have given me with him. Touchwood.”
While I couldn’t sleep the whole night as I was playing and replaying my proposal in my mind and smiling to myself like an idiot, the next day, something unexpected happened. I went to his place early in the morning to surprise him and the door of his room was opened by a woman who had only bed-sheet draped around her.
This time, I not only changed the town but also changed the continent altogether. But before I left, I had learned from his friends that the woman was his girl-friend of over 2 years…
I sent him one last text. “I hate you.. I hate you much more than I hated my dad.. I had forgiven my dad long ago, but I will never ever forgive you for what you’ve done to me.. You know what hurts the most? You’ve killed the part of me which was never actually there, it took birth only because of you and for you and you yourself are the reason of it’s demise.”
I blocked him from my social networks, changed numbers, cut out ties with all his friends. I removed his pictures from my cell-phone and Ipad, I burnt his greetings, I threw away his gifts, I burnt his poems, I kicked him in my fantasies every-day. I got rid of every single thing that could remind me of him. But, I couldn’t erase him from my memories…
I tried to immerse myself in my new surroundings and different life-style and tried to start my life a-fresh.
I again went back into my shell and cursed Him all the more for doing exactly like I had asked Him not to.
I always thought that, “I cannot live without you”, “I’d die without you”, “You are my everything” and such phrases were just the result of an overdose of romantic novels, movies and fairy tales.
I always thought that ‘nobody dies for anybody‘ and that ‘life goes on, no matter what!‘
Although I’m alive, a part of me died the day we parted and that very day I realised that such phrases are not entirely crap or over-rated.