Cute Little Boy

It was February of 1999, the winter had almost left but the weather was still a little cold. The sun was still there helping people to cope up with cold weather. In the heart of Rajasthan, there is a city also known as city of gold. It was Sunday, life is usual here also like any part of the world. While people like to sit on terrace and have morning snacks, maybe a cup of milk or coffee, the rays of sun fall on a boy's face. His light brown eye shines as the rays falls, showing spark and hope there is in this world. From his little soft eyes he stares right at the Sun which is just above the house facing his. . Trembled a little he keeps on staring as he is trying to put a fight on or show what he is made of. He is not afraid for his eyesight, but aware of it, aware of what he is standing against, aware of what he is choosing. He cares for the moment, he lives in it. He can fight. He want to, but the fights he want is not what he is ever going to get. The fights he want right now is not what he will live to get any day.

Everybody is same. People act different because different things happen differently to them. He hear saying weather was not that cold compared to how coldly people act and are unaware.

Standing at a balcony, one floor above ground with a frown on his face. A young boy of third grade, stood with all hope he got crumbling down. 

He was not just upset, he wanted answers. He did not want to feel like this. He would sink his head low, then lookout, take a deep breath, look up and again will sink inside. He was struggling, it was not hard to tell. His throat was getting choked, heartbeat was getting faster as if there were drums and canons. There was this headache, it felt like it was coming from his heartache. The thumping could be felt in veins. The second grader was just not ready to be a small kid. His mind would spin everywhere. Frustrated and tired with his headache he looked down at the truck loaded with all the furniture at home. He was feeling frizzy, lost, hopeless and unable to understand the world. ‘Why should I waste my energy trying to live another day?’ he said to himself.

The 7 years old child was occupied with too much of negativity in his head and around him to deal with anything anymore. ‘There is no point, let me just get through it’, he thought. It did not felt right obviously. But there was no reason to hold himself back. The world did not seem anything like how it should be. Neither any fairy tale came true, fairy tale for him was fair, nice people but people felt so fake. True love did not exist. It was a very young age to believe that. Sometimes his parents would beat the shit out of him when he needed them the most. It didn't hurt the body, but surely breaks the soul. 'What was the point of living this life then? ' was the question his brain kept asking. It was difficult to distinguish between or understand heart, brain and himself.

There was nothing he could look up to or feel for to live one more day for. He was ready to throw God’s most precious gift without a flick. But he believed it to be a gift. There was just one thought, a moral obligation that held him, though. Despite all the harsh reality he saw. He would not leave his part undone. This life should mean something. He would happily sacrifice it for anybody but he cannot just prove that this life means nothing. And certainly he could not do that to his life himself. Maybe it’s the way he was raised. But he would never make fun of life he have this way by killing himself.

He looked down at the truck loading with the furniture. The labor was loading his bicycle. He remembered his time with his bicycle. The bicycle with one straight long pointy seat and support for backseat rider. He remembered when his cousins visited him and he had fun with them happy enjoying riding that bicycle turn by turn and his cousins flaunting their skills. A calmness soothed his mind, there is love. He loves his bicycle and it never made him unhappy. He was happy to have it, it was not his but his brother’s. His brother brought it with his father cycling through streets. He was no way allowed to go to streets even today riding bicycle. ‘Ah! Chuck It! You always think negative he thought.’ And he moved on from it to let more thoughts come to his mind without wanting it.

 Next, he thought of how he had one time a good time with his brother, the one time in the family. Sitting in front of his brother paddling bicycle from behind. They were cycling around a pillar as there were not enough space. Soon his dad came from inside. He was taking a bath. He was not dry and had some wet clothes which he had to hang outside. The water dripping from the clothes fell near pillar as his dad passed by the only pillar. As the two brothers begin their fifth round the unaware elder brother was in no situation to do anything. Before the kids could use any of their immature brains the bike skidded and they fell down to the floor. There was a difference when they fell down this time. When the two brothers fell down the weighted of everything bicycled carried fall on the younger brother’s left arm. 

 There was no crack sound, No bone came out of flesh. Everything seemed just fine. He remembered he was not in utter pain. He could not feel it. But he had pain. He went crying inside seeking help to his mother. No, he did not mean to be a bitch to his brother, but something needed to be done and he needed help. Then, came his father who had just left the balcony. He was angry at his stupid son who had hurt themselves. Maybe he already had enough on his plate talking about how much he loved his parents and he lost his mother already and his father was not doing well. He had lost his temper and fun and some good vibes struggling through in the bad times. Nobody is a culprit. Like souls pain also shifts and changes until somebody decides to embrace it and not shift to any other person. Yes, he changed from how good he was. After getting beaten up he remembered how he felt bad about the people he got around him. He stood up, he just did not felt he in any case deserved all this. Nothing about it was right.  Soon, he realized that he could not move his arm.

Tension grew, elders realized that the bone was fractured. He did not care anymore. Just don’t be angry, just don’t do what you are doing. Everything is fine. What his parents are doing is not. The fracture meant more expenses, more scolding, beating and probably a risky future. They loving parents took him to a few hospitals, they were concerned, angry and tensed. After a few months, the hand was okay. The heart was not. There was nothing he will forget. He also remembered when he spilled a glass of milk and got a good slap from his mother. Which he just could not understand. You spill it several times when you forget you put milk on the stove. How come this one glass is so important for anybody to understand that mistakes happen, and they just have to beat for absolutely no other reason? Yes, stuff happens all over the world. But you will do anything just because it happens. Everybody else might be okay with it, I am not.

Even if he forgets that he cannot understand why he will be beaten on the day when he dance, he danced out of happiness because his broken collar bone was finally fine and the Doctor has discharged him. Why anybody would beat a child who hears he will be able to use his hand just like before, playing cricket and stuff. Why was it not okay if he liked to wear that support for his hand a little longer? He tried, he believed his parents were right but the rational brain did not took long to figure out the facts and put it all in front of him to swallow it all down. There were  good times, people smiled, but before he could manage to smile back something burnt everything up to ashes.

How come he was not affected by others and so sensitive whenever he got hurt from his family? How come he could not remember having a moment and screwed by family at the same time. He had seen some stuff. Stuff people would not just accept to be true. His grandfather leaving home and his father and brother looking for his grandfather in the whole city. Yes, people had worse, in fact, this very thought kept him going but it doesn’t mean we are in a competition. We are talking about a shy sensitive kid here. Can’t blame a kid for being what he is.

It is not about being weak, it is not about putting a fight, and it is not about thinking that way or this. The major contributor to the suicidal thoughts was that there was no hope he could see in the world. He was never troubled by outsiders, he had friends but what he cared about was backfiring. If a mother and a father could fail this badly to do right what the hell is this world going to do. Parents are the people who love you the most, they are God. It was then he realized that they are not but he believed that they have seen enough to guide him well and do the right thing.

He wanted to jump, badly, period. There was no righteous, true, justice or good that will prevail here, he knew. But even if he gathers the courage to leave his damaged parents with one bigger episode in their life to break them further. Which he thought might calm them down. How could he possibly kiss himself for nothing? Ready to die to save somebody, might as well ready to kill for greater good but not ready to kill himself because his life meant something to him he took a deep breath, look above. He said to himself, ‘all this is useless bullshit’ and he drop all of it there to live until he figures his end. To live until he gets a chance. To give his life another shot because he morally did not had any reason to kill himself.  

This is your friend with his first ever attempt to come out and put himself in Public. Please respond. LIKE if you do, CRITICIZE if you feel like, APPRECIATE if you felt it.
AJ :)