Though quite familiar to the word "choice," I am quite not privileged to have had one in my life until today. For long now, the thought of this has been haunting me, and quite often the cause of my furious outbursts. It almost makes me feel like a loser in life, who is not capable of taking decisions of his own that suits him the best. Do I have a choice?
From childhood, I had been under strict parenting, which I presume is good to discipline a child. Young and almost ignorant of the world outside, the choices of my parents would be final, and rightly so. Academics being given the prime-most importance in our family, examples of "good-boys" would quite be restricted within people who have excelled academically. Back then, success would quite be synonymous to being the best boy in my class, and that was invariably topping the score-sheets during the terms. But, since childhood, I was brought up under two ideologies. While my school forced on education, at home, it was just books. While books at schools had no boundaries, books at home every time, found the fence. I still remember being beaten up by my dad for borrowing books from my school library for the sixth week consecutively. That was one of the most important things that made me master the art of lying. I don't regret the fact that I can lie well and confidently, but I hate the fact that I lie too much. From petty issues to important ones, I live with lies.
There is a time at the fag end of your schooling where you have to decide upon your career choices. Art, in every form has always found a special place in my heart. Yes, I wanted to be an artist. My love for music is as much as my love for literature, and even today I act like a crazy when I visit bookstores and music-shops. But I was given two "choices" and quite soon, I was left with one. Engineering, A guy who works well with logic and numbers is destined to be an engineer, at least that's what I was told. I too was a coward back then. I would have loved to continue with biology, but it was totally omitted from my choice list of subjects, as being a doctor, it takes long years to have recognition. I didn't complain back then. But today, I just can't help but do so.
Yes, once again I re-assure you all, my dear friends, that I was a coward back then. And looking back to regret and whine, I am no less than a loser. Yes indeed, my life is scarred by lies, or rather, camouflages. But no more of it. I have decided and I am firm on it. Before I go on to the next paragraph, I would seize the opportunity to apologize to my dad, that I couldn't be the "good boy" he wanted me to be.
Today when I took a decision about my higher studies, I was told that I am ignorant of the world outside and the market conditions. Yet I was assured on the other hand that nothing was being forced upon me. The ways differ as we grow up; the obvious dislike said it all. I was most foolish to have not done what I wanted to do, but enough of it. I will stand on my own two feet. I don't know how much having a "branded tag" counts in my case, because I'm happy with simple things. True that comfort never eluded me since childhood, but again, I wish not to fly on my father's wings. I prefer poverty, for poor people know what is it not to have things one needs, near at hand.
Today, I made the first choice of my life. And that is to be honest with myself, which till date, was jeopardized by the thoughts of being beaten by leather belts and slippers. I am no alien to those. There would be hatred in his eyes, and pain inflicted would be inhuman. While the shouts allured him to land one more blow, there was someone who sympathized with me, and mostly took the rest to bail me out of it. If not for anybody else, I'll do it for her. Today, pain, failure, I have been through it all, and I know I have lot more left to go through, especially when I chose to dedicate my life to the seven notes. But for once, nothing stopped me from doing what I wanted to do. Yes, finally I am happy. Also, I love you, mom...
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