Bond and Beyond

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              Bond and Beyond

We were a family of five—my parents and three siblings. My paternal grandparents used to stay with us but when they reached the age of eighty and became dependent on other and could not be of any help, they were sent off to an Old Age Home. I was then five years old and it broke my heart to see them leave, with tears rolling down their cheeks. I was very attached to them and to my thinking it was not right to send them to a Home, though it had all the luxury and comforts. Now they needed our support and they had self-sacrificingly taken care of us for so many years. I had clung onto them and buried my face in their arms and cried. With the creases deepening on their ashen faces, from which all color had been drained off, they hobbled out without a murmur. Small as I was, the thought which was uppermost in my mind, how was I going to survive without them! My whole world seemed to have collapsed.

 My father was the Principal of a school. He had thin lips which he always kept pursed, and showed off a pair of twirling moustache which tapered down. This gave him a very austere look. He hardly ever smiled and when he spoke, it was succinct and crisp. He used to leave early with his files and books. We did not dare to come in his way. At school he was a strict disciplinarian. I cannot recollect having ever played with him or having fun with him. Once when I was playing with a ball, it hit the lampshade. My Father turned purple with anger and then and there, he took off his belt and gave me such a whipping that my baby skin turned into reddish-blue bruises, which formed into blisters and left indelible black turrets on my fair back. I looked on with envy other children in close embrace in their fathers’ lap and laughing at some special joke, just only known to both of them. That intimacy never existed between my father and me. When I grew up my friends would come and relate what fun they had playing cricket with their father or beating him in a game of Chess, but my father was never there for me. I always yearned for love from my parents which I never experienced.

My mother was working as a Secretary in a foreign establishment. Early in the morning before she left for office, she would wake us up and with a perfunctory kiss, she would make her exit, crying out from the door, “Bye –bye Sweet Hearts!” These are the sweet reminiscences of my childhood. Late in the evening she would come home. She would complain that she was very tired, and get into bed. Her dinner would be served by the Maid on a tray in bed. That was all we saw of her. There was never an occasion when we could run up to her, hug her and say “I love you Mummy”! There was never an occasion when we could pour our hearts out to her, crying on her shoulder, confessing that we had broken our cycle and wanted her to buy us a new one.

 We children grew up under the fond care of our Nepalese “ayah”, who was very patient and understanding. Not knowing Mother’s or father’s love, we were like weeds, trying to make the best of the environment.

Being the youngest of the siblings, my eldest brother, who was seven years older to me, took on himself to protect and guide me. He saw to it that I did not get hurt whilst playing, also that I got a fair share of the goodies, and dried my tears when I was upset. We had great fun playing, singing and dancing together. We acted out plays and nursery rhymes, which all made my childhood very enjoyable. My elder brothers helped me with my numbers and writing but as all this was done through various play activities, I enjoyed even studying.

My life in school was simply deplorable .I was a so called “problem child” and day in and day out I got into trouble with the teachers. Not knowing parent’s love, I had become very unruly and defiant. When the teachers threatened to call my parents and complain about me, I had a quiet laugh to myself. I knew my parents would not have time or interest to attend to any teacher’s meeting! Deliberately I used to break school computers and science apparatus, just to see the reaction on the Authorities. For being neglected by my parents, I tried to take it out on every one in authority. I spoke disrespectfully with the teachers and I felt a great satisfaction when they were shocked and spluttered and stuttered in response.

At last with the approach of Dooms Day my parents were called to meet the Principal. But as was expected, they did not bother to comply. I was then given a very harsh punishment .Though I was in Class Twelve at that time, the Principal gave orders that I was to wear a garland of shoes and paraded round the school premises. This was so humiliating and degrading for me that I could not take it. Fuming and frothing I left the school premises with a resolve to take my revenge. What I was going to do I did not know then, but I felt like a lion which had been starved for a long time and now it was going to gore out the last ounce of flesh from its victim.

I went upstairs to the lounge to get the car keys. In an insane frenzy, I rushed down. I sat in my Father’s new BMW, sweating profusely. I turned on the ignition and pressed the accelerator.

The car sped like an incensed infuriated monster. What- ever came in the way was smashed into smithereens. From a distance people hearing the loud roaring, booming sound of the speeding car, cleared the way in panic. The car screeched as the wheels were dragged unceremoniously across the tarred road. In no time the raging spluttering demon quivering in a paroxysm of anger crashed head-on against the elaborately ornate brass gate, Strong as it was, it could not resist the on-slaught. With a resounding cry of protest, the staunch structure fell prostrate on the ground. There was a deafening sound. Shrapnel of metal went flying through the air. The car bounced once, twice and then rolled on its side. The impact with the gate had ripped off the bonnet and the right door. The body of the car was a mangled mass. Trapped under the steering wheel I lay writhing in pain, blood gushing out like a fountain. I do not know what happened next as my vision blurred and then the whole world turned black.

When I opened my eyes I was on a hospital bed. I was astonished to see my father looking down on me and his whole face was wet with tears, “Don’t leave us Son. You are the youngest of my three sons but you are so precious that if anything should happen to you, I will never forgive myself.” My mother was stroking my hair. She was saying, “Though I have three sons, I cannot spare anyone. I am here to give you my blood as you have bled too much. This act of yours was a shattering blow. ”She was trembling with the shock and looked shell white. I had never imagined that I could mean so much to them. My two brothers looked at me with condemnation writ large on their faces. My grand- parents who were always very indulgent, shook their heads and reprimanded me with their eyes filling up with tears “Shekhar you are a very selfish person. You never thought what would happen to your aged grandparents because of your act! If anything happens to you, we will get a heart attack and die. The words sounded in my ears as if from another world. I hardly could grasp what was being said. My Father was all this time holding me in his arms and sobbing like a baby. All this I gathered from my brothers later on. Only if I had known this love early in my life, it would not have taken the turn it did.

Now I am relaxing in my hospital bed. My left has been amputated as the bones were crushed beyond repair. A steel rod has been implanted in my left foot. But I am a very happy man. I can do without the arm but never could do without my parents love. Now that I know that they care for me, I want nothing in the world.