Flood of feelings

I am 19 and looking back the experience was bitter sweet. There were a lot of difficulties to overcome, and there will be a number of them in future but now, I believe, I would be able to deal with them.

My father is in paramilitary force. My story starts from the time when he was posted in Jammu, it actually is from the time from where I can remember. When he was posted in Jammu he came home after 5 months, and those 5 months seemed endless. After a few more months he was transferred to Delhi, I was elated. I was in 3^rd standard at that time and my younger sister was in 1^st, both of us had long hair.

 Mummy used to fight on daily basis with papa on petty issues regarding me. And one day, all of sudden, she stopped making my braids. I was just 7 and in order to avoid any kind conflict my father got my hair cut to shoulders at first I was very sad but adjusted in no time. In evening I went to market with him to buy hairbands, happily because of thoughts of going school with a new haircut. Probably my mother was not happy, so she hid my hairband under the mattress she slept on. We searched it everywhere and ended up empty handed. I was terrified to go to school without a hairband, out of fear I started crying then only she took out the hairbands and handed them over.

Hate is a very strong word and should not be used until it is from depth of heart. I hate my mother, and I mean it.

First month into 8^th standard I got my period and asked my mother to help me. Instead of helping me she pushed me away saying I was impure now. I had school in next half an hour, wondering what to do now I sat on the floor. After a few minutes papa came and asked what happened, I told him that I got period. He then asked then why are you sitting on the floor. I pointed to sanitary napkins, too shy to even name it. He gave me sanitary napkin and my mother a death glare, and the woman she is she reflected it back.

What was my fault? Just because I was her first child? Because her second child who was a boy died?

By the end of same year I got to know that mummy was pregnant, again. Maybe the hope to have a man in family never dies. She got my younger sister’s gender checked but papa refuse to get her aborted. This time also gender of baby was checked, and thankfully it was a boy, otherwise I am damn sure she would have demanded sixth pregnancy. I was angry, not because they got baby’s gender checked, but because they were having fourth child. My papa is a constable and has a very decent salary. I was furious that they were having one more baby even after having three daughter. I felt as if we didn’t matter. I felt betrayed. I felt lost. I didn’t knew where to go, whom to talk with. I thought of suicide and tried to do the same, but then faces of my sisters came into view and did something else. I went back and planned how we were going to kill the coming baby. But regardless of what we planned, we love our brother a lot.

I never was as smart as my sisters but tried my best to impress my parents. Now I don’t do that because it’s my life not theirs to decide or like. So my mother always tried to humiliate every chance she got. She introduced me like ‘this is my elder daughter and she is an idiot, it’s only my second daughter who’s got all the smartness in the world’.

I’ve been suffering for a long time and will for a long time till the time I leave my current house. I don’t know why she did all she did with me, but when I think deeply I guess deep down I know what she must think. She always thought, and verbalised this thought many times, that I was ill-fated. She always thought it because of me that brother of mine died.

I cannot go back in time but I can just hope that in some point in future things will be better between us.

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