Unwanted

I’ve always considered myself unwanted in front of my family. At times, a person may not utter a word against you but one can easily feel the vibes generated from his or her body. You can actually feel if someone is genuinely pleased or not after meeting you. I’ve always felt something similar whenever my paternal grandmother visited us. There was a stark difference in the way she spoke to my elder sister and the way she spoke to me.

I would often ask my mother this one question and she would often shrug it off.

“Why doesn’t Dadi like me, Ma?”

“Who said she doesn’t like you, Dhruv? Of Course, she does. Dadi can be a bit moody sometimes. I don’t know why you feel that way.”

Though she tried hard to convince me every time, the kid in me was never satisfied. Her face always conveyed the opposite of her words. My wild guess was that it was because I was dark. My sister was many shades lighter than I was. In fact, everyone in my family was fair. I was the only odd one out. Shreya did look just like Dad. Dad looked like Dadi. I, on the other hand, looked neither like dad nor mom. They all looked like a family. I was the one different.

When Dadi wasn’t around, I never felt insecure. The four of us lived our lives happily. Yet, I felt something amiss.

Despite the way Dadi treated me, my mother always taught me to respect her. When I complained to dad about the situation, he would always say, ”Give her time, Dhruv. Dadi is older than us. She is an integral part of our family. She will change one day.” But, that never happened.

Years later, I discovered why. And I don’t blame her.

Out of nowhere, I stumbled across an old wedding photo of mom with another man. It was just another regular visit to my mom’s maternal home. I felt cheated. I felt betrayed. I felt my whole world come crashing down. Hundreds of questions in my mind, I wanted to demand answers from both my parents. Or at least one of my parents.

But I decided to keep quiet. The man whom I considered my father had accepted me with all his heart. He had given me more love than I could ever ask for. The girl whom I called my sister was my friend, my guide and my partner in crime. Maybe, she knew the truth. Maybe, she didn’t. Maybe, I was too young or too naïve to not see through reality. Even though we weren’t related by blood, we were related by heart. Dadi had given me many hints throughout the way. I didn’t have a perfect family. A part of me said I should be thankful. At least, I had one.

All these years, I had lived a lie. A sweet lie. Maybe, one day, I will ask questions. But, not today. The attachment between the four of us was too strong to let go for a lie. A lie that changed my life.