Monday, 21 May 2012


I was born to a family, not so rich, not so wretched. Typical of the type of middle class .The vale  as said by people and I believe had been cheery as Nishat gardens were thrown open to the folks to saunter around. That was the time I came to this world without acknowledging to the fact that my life would be full of miseries. The only line that I’m reminded of here is from 'Aga Shahid Ali's' poem stating  that :-
                     ‘why didn’t the fortune tellers predicted
                       that lines in my hand would be cut by knife'
As I said the miseries, severities and adversities that I had to face  started only at the threshold of my days infancy as I was adopted by my uncle at the very tender age of not more than 20 days .This was the beginning of the world for me. The world  which cut off  the relationship  between a mother and her son, the bond sacred enough to open the heaven gates of every child if kept intact for such long. Greatly it has been said that “beneath the feet of mother there lies the key to heaven gates”. But the word ‘mother’  itself remained anonymous for me as there was no literal mother for me who would keep me close to her bosom lest to get cold during harsh winters in here, who would stay awake or we can say on the ball if I would be suffering from mild fever. Mother  who would leave aside all her pleasures just to see a joyous .But  destiny had already changed its course as I was with a family comprising of my  step father as the world says and genuinely says and a step mother same implies for her too.

My infancy days were not so much joyful as I barely even remember one. My step mother would always try to find new ways of cursing me all the time and damning the day she and her  husband took me in as their child. Even discrimination can’t be so discriminate for what they did with me as if I had to been forced upon them like the illegitimate child thrown in the legitimate bunch of people .They would treat me like the mendicant who had been abandoned by his parents. Life moved on as in the early stages little did I understood what it all meant to be an adopted child, they always try to find flaws in me a thereby taking to cussing ,even the ancestors of mine genuinely there too would not be spared even. Imagination can’t imagine what would a step motherhood be like. I would be kept naked in the freezing cold for doing the minute of wrong behaviors and would serve me with the left over of their king sized supper and I unlike any other child would take that as the blessing as I was in the world of my own unknown to wrong doings thrust upon me. But as I grew my very little consciousness developed me into something else and I would be completely  grasping what uncanny meant and why was this world brutal to me only!
To be continued

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