Life's Ups And Downs

Okay, so here I go.

I start from childhood, from my school days. On the first day of school, I entered the 1st-grade classroom with my father and sat alone in the back because it was the only vacant seat. I don't know why I feel sad when I remember that day, probably because I sat alone in the back. Alright, it was just the beginning. As the days went by, I felt uncomfortable because a classmate used to irritate me by tearing a page from my drawing file. I complained to my monitor, but she didn't take any action. This happened many times, and I didn't feel comfortable in my class at all. When I moved to the second grade, I heard that the boy had left the school, and I felt very relieved.

A new girl joined our class in the second or third grade, and for some reason, she didn't seem to like me. I never said anything to her, nor did I take or give anything to her. One day, I brought a Puran Poli, a sweet Maharashtrian dish, which was my favorite. I sat at a desk where other girls were eating together, and that girl was also there. As soon as I arrived, she left. I packed my lunchbox, put it back in my bag, and couldn't finish my lunch. I cried with my head down and also cried when I went outside. I used to wonder why she didn't like me and what I had done wrong.

In the third story, in the sixth grade, one day I received a score of 5/40 in a math exam. The teacher, who happened to be Punjabi, showed the exam papers to everyone one by one. Then the time came, a dreadful one. He asked me to come forward and gave me a slap on my cheeks that felt like his entire handprint was imprinted on my face. My whole class was shocked, and everyone fell silent. I remember they all said, "Oohhh, haaaawww," but it was horrible. I don't want to remember that moment, but you know our minds; we can't erase our memories. I returned to my seat, kept my head down, and started crying. Nobody came to comfort me; I was alone in that scary moment.

Another scary moment: I don't remember the exact day it happened, but I know I was in school. I recall my mother beating me with her legs while I lay on my stomach. I repeatedly begged her for forgiveness, folding my hands, but she didn't stop. For a moment, I felt like if she didn't stop, I might stop breathing. Maybe it was because I wasn't studying, and she did what she did for my future happiness. Okay, alright, whatever she did, she did it for my better future.

In the 9th grade, I forgot that I had already submitted the bus fees. But the bus driver asked me to bring the bus fees, and I said, "Okay, I will bring the bus fees tomorrow." I told my father, and he asked why I didn't inform him that I had already submitted the bus fees for the month. The next day, when my father told the bus driver that I had already paid the fees, my father said, "She doesn't remember anything. She is mad; she doesn't have a brain," and he repeated this in front of all the students on the bus. I was just listening and scared.

Another sad story: I went to my school in the 11th grade to collect my grade card and saw that I had failed in economics. I came home with a sad mood, and my mother told me to study as soon as I got home. I tried to study but ended up falling asleep after a while. My mother left her work, came over, and unexpectedly slapped me. I didn't know she was coming to slap me, and it was a surprise. I woke up suddenly and started studying. But, thanks to her, I passed my economics compartment exam.

Another distressing moment: I was in the ninth grade attending tuition class. My mother had asked my tuition teacher to give me extra classes because I was struggling in my studies. I went to the tuition class, but when I didn't understand what the teacher was teaching, he raised his hand as if to hit me. I felt bad and scared.

In the 12th grade, I used to sit alone in the back and would think every day that this pain would eventually change. So, my whole year was spent waiting for change.

In 2013, after finishing school, I enrolled in B.El.Ed. I was having difficulty understanding what was happening there. I was lost because, in school, I had relied on rote learning and question-answer formats. This time, we didn't have any questions to answer or any tuitions. I had to learn everything by myself, and there were so many books and notes. I was confused about what the teachers were teaching in class. I failed in all exams during the half-yearly exams, not passing a single subject. I also had no friends in my class, and in the class WhatsApp group, my classmates used to bully me for some reason. I enjoyed studying child development because we had a subject on child development. Although I failed in that exam too, I later learned that the teacher who taught child development also taught psychology in other classes. I thought that if I had psychology in the second year, I must take psychology. But I ended up failing in all subjects in the final exams and had to repeat the year.

I left college and went to Ambedkar University Delhi to study Psychology. It was going well, and I was studying hard. I passed all exams over three years, but I found that I was trying to stay away from my family most of the time. My mother didn't approve of my course and used to say that nothing comes from a B.A. When I achieved a good percentage, she called our relatives and said, "I passed all subjects." Although I liked it when someone praised me, I wasn't happy because she hadn't supported me when I needed it. She generally used to call our relatives and say, "When will she grow up? She's still in 12th grade. When will she change?" She never asked me about my thoughts, feelings, or desires. She would insult me in front of everyone without warning.

In 2017, I gained admission to MA Psychology at Banaras Hindu University. During a VIVA, a professor asked me a question, and I didn't know the answer. He asked me where I had come from, and I said I had come from Delhi. He said, "Aisa marenge nah tumko Delhi ja kar girogi" (you will die like this, you will go to Delhi and fall). I didn't say anything, but I felt insulted and scared.

During my master's, I was in a relationship, and one day, while I was talking to him, he got irritated by my behavior and raised his hand as if to slap me but stopped. After a few months, he broke up with me, saying that he wanted to be practical, and according to him, I wasn't practical.

After completing my master's and returning home, I was preparing for some exams but couldn't concentrate. I felt frustrated and aggressive. Some friends told me about Vipassana meditation, and I decided to give it a try. My father initially opposed it, but I requested him to let me go. Before that, I had tried a meditation called Brahma Kumaris for fifteen days, but it didn't help me at all. However, with Vipassana meditation, I was doing well in the meditation hall, sitting straight and following all the rules and regulations. But when I returned home, I started experiencing various health issues, such as headaches, menstrual problems, and stomachaches. I meditated regularly for an hour daily for a year, and it helped me a lot. Whenever I meditate, my overanalytical mind stops, and I become relaxed and energetic. I began exploring new activities, such as learning to play musical instruments, painting, and writing my daily thoughts. That year was amazing.

But after some time, things began to deteriorate again. I ended my friendship with one of my friends who had treated me poorly. I tolerated her behavior because I had no other friends. As time went on, many of my close friends distanced themselves from me, and some even blocked me. One friend accused me of harassing him and didn't want to be friends with me, but I was happy he ended our friendship because of the way he treated me.

Two years ago, in 2020, I went to my relatives' house to attend a function, and there my mother said, "I don't cook for myself; how will I cook for others?" She made a joke about it in front of twenty people, and she was laughing. I stayed quiet and listened, but I felt insulted.

Also, five years ago, when I visited my relatives, my mother was sleeping on the floor, and there was a bed nearby where my mother was sleeping. I jumped from the bed, and my leg accidentally hurt my mother's hand. She woke up and started beating me with her legs in front of everyone, and I didn't react or say anything. I just endured it.

Around six months ago, my mother left home and ran away without telling us anything. Before that, we had a terrible fight, and I shouted at her. I was happy for a couple of days, but then I felt that maybe I had treated her badly enough. We filed a police complaint, and my father and I went to bring her back. When I met my mother, she told me that she needed to take medicine because she was mentally retarded, and I felt hurt that she would say that to me, her daughter. I asked her to take her medicine as well, and I started taking psychiatric medications. When I'm alone at home, I have a habit of becoming very aggressive and talking and laughing to myself.

I felt a bit calmer after taking the medications. I also underwent psychotherapy to address my frustrations, and the therapist helped guide me. I've been talking to my counselor for the past three years, and she knows me very well. I share every small problem in my life with her, and she guides me on what to do. She easily understands my behavioral patterns and suggested that I take medication.

These days, I've stopped taking the medications because I'm feeling happy with my work. I'm making slow progress, but I'm happy to see some improvement in my aggression and mood swings.

Nowadays, I've been thinking about why people seem to want to harm me and why nobody respects me. I wonder which person I can ever trust and what I've done wrong. I've never used bad words against others. I often wonder what's written in my destiny.

But it's okay, I tell myself. The same thing will never happen again. They say, "Change is the law of nature," and if my life hasn't ended on a happy note, it means the story isn't over yet (picture abhi baaki hai, mere dost).