“Have you ever thought how would it feel if you have just a name and no surname? What would you do, if you have to live in isolation, much much away from the world that exists everywhere around you, but not for you? Ever thought of realizing one day that you are the beloved of none? ”
“I know how it feels.
Hi, I am Vrinda.
Vrinda… nothing.
That’s the way it is, for me. I’ve got no surname. Neither do I know my birth place nor do I know my birth time, unlike many. Surprised as to what am I saying? Don’t be. I am just an ordinary girl you have come across but with a few differences that discriminate me from the rest.
I was found lying on the door-mat early morning, when some maid was passing by. I was just 5 days young then. I don’t remember anything of those days but I surely remember my childhood. I never had the luck to open my eyes in the morning to the thousand different names that a mother calls to her kid. Neither had a day when someone would sit besides me, running her hands through my hair and asking me to get up and see how beautiful the day was, how amazing the sun looked or how sweet were the songs of the bird. Getting up from the bed by the irritating screams of warden was a routine. Very next thing I used to do was to get to work that was assigned to me following the daily chores. I have heard people saying that being a child is fun, but I ask, is it really? No, not for me. When you were busy studying in schools and your parents planning for your colorful future, I toiled all day concerned more about my present. When you feasted upon the mom made delicacies I starved many a days hoping for some god-sent to come and feed us.
Festivals are really worth keeping memories of, though different reasons for different people. I still remember the Diwali, I was 12 years old. I saw lights, sound and cheer in the world all around me. We always had someone or other to come over Diwali and gift us with new-old clothes, sweets and sometimes fire–crackers. But this diwali was different. I and my friends were eagerly waiting with our eyes glued on the road that comes to our door to see if someone was coming with BIG parcels but we never saw anyone coming. The day turned from cool morning to the sun scorched afternoon to the mild evening and finally the day turning dark with the sunset. We were all waiting till we realized time when the clock struck 9 and we were called for dinner. We all got up with a huge disappointment. Do not know why but I still believed that someone will surely drop in to surprise us - my god- sent. I was lying in my bed listening to the sounds coming from the neighborhood which was a mixture of music, crackers, laughter and happy cries. Suddenly I noticed a tear roll down my cheek from the right eye. I had never cried till this day, no matter what life made me face, but today, it was uncontrollable. What seemed to be a small tear from the eye turned out to be a stream with low sobs and a pinch in the heart which no medicine can cure. That was the day I realized how unwanted I was.
The night still scares me, when I had worked throughout the day, though it was pouring like cats and dogs, just to make sure that we get at least two square meals for few more days. Next thing I can remember is at 2 am in the morning shivering on my sleeping mattress and yawning continuously indicating that I was feeling cold and needed some warmth. I can hardly get up from the mattress and was scared to call warden to come to my rescue. I wished I had someone besides me, to listen to my soft painful moans, put a blanket on me, rub some balm on my body and make sure that I was warm till I doze off calmly. But it was a wish that can never be approved for me, a dream that can never come true.
I often hear, ‘mothers are angels’. But mine was not. Today I want to ask you, my angel, if you are listening to me. Why was I given birth, when all you wanted to do with me was throw me away at someone else’s door? Was I so bad, that you had to put me away from yourself, lifelong? Didn’t you think, as to who will care for me? Who’ll listen to my cries and understand that I am hungry, if not for you. Who’ll hold my finger and teach me to walk and run? Who’ll wipe my tears when I fall and bruise my knee? It is really scary, Mom, to face this world when I know that I do not have you to make me feel good. When I have a fight I do not have Dad to go to, who would advice me to be strong and promises to take away all my worries. I miss those warm n affectionate hugs and embraces that I have read in many books.
If God is the one who sends us all to earth, I would like to ask him today, if he exists, what wrong I have done for you to punish me like this. Why did you wanted me to be treated like some waste lying in a garbage bin? Why did you make my mother such stone-hearted that she mercilessly disowned me? Am I like the worn out toy that needs to be put away before the child gets scared playing with it or am I your un-worthy and undeserving child? Or like sometimes people say, am I the unwanted outcome of the moments of pleasures that my parents had?”
“I know how it feels.
Hi, I am Vrinda.
Vrinda… nothing.
That’s the way it is, for me. I’ve got no surname. Neither do I know my birth place nor do I know my birth time, unlike many. Surprised as to what am I saying? Don’t be. I am just an ordinary girl you have come across but with a few differences that discriminate me from the rest.
I was found lying on the door-mat early morning, when some maid was passing by. I was just 5 days young then. I don’t remember anything of those days but I surely remember my childhood. I never had the luck to open my eyes in the morning to the thousand different names that a mother calls to her kid. Neither had a day when someone would sit besides me, running her hands through my hair and asking me to get up and see how beautiful the day was, how amazing the sun looked or how sweet were the songs of the bird. Getting up from the bed by the irritating screams of warden was a routine. Very next thing I used to do was to get to work that was assigned to me following the daily chores. I have heard people saying that being a child is fun, but I ask, is it really? No, not for me. When you were busy studying in schools and your parents planning for your colorful future, I toiled all day concerned more about my present. When you feasted upon the mom made delicacies I starved many a days hoping for some god-sent to come and feed us.
Festivals are really worth keeping memories of, though different reasons for different people. I still remember the Diwali, I was 12 years old. I saw lights, sound and cheer in the world all around me. We always had someone or other to come over Diwali and gift us with new-old clothes, sweets and sometimes fire–crackers. But this diwali was different. I and my friends were eagerly waiting with our eyes glued on the road that comes to our door to see if someone was coming with BIG parcels but we never saw anyone coming. The day turned from cool morning to the sun scorched afternoon to the mild evening and finally the day turning dark with the sunset. We were all waiting till we realized time when the clock struck 9 and we were called for dinner. We all got up with a huge disappointment. Do not know why but I still believed that someone will surely drop in to surprise us - my god- sent. I was lying in my bed listening to the sounds coming from the neighborhood which was a mixture of music, crackers, laughter and happy cries. Suddenly I noticed a tear roll down my cheek from the right eye. I had never cried till this day, no matter what life made me face, but today, it was uncontrollable. What seemed to be a small tear from the eye turned out to be a stream with low sobs and a pinch in the heart which no medicine can cure. That was the day I realized how unwanted I was.
The night still scares me, when I had worked throughout the day, though it was pouring like cats and dogs, just to make sure that we get at least two square meals for few more days. Next thing I can remember is at 2 am in the morning shivering on my sleeping mattress and yawning continuously indicating that I was feeling cold and needed some warmth. I can hardly get up from the mattress and was scared to call warden to come to my rescue. I wished I had someone besides me, to listen to my soft painful moans, put a blanket on me, rub some balm on my body and make sure that I was warm till I doze off calmly. But it was a wish that can never be approved for me, a dream that can never come true.
I often hear, ‘mothers are angels’. But mine was not. Today I want to ask you, my angel, if you are listening to me. Why was I given birth, when all you wanted to do with me was throw me away at someone else’s door? Was I so bad, that you had to put me away from yourself, lifelong? Didn’t you think, as to who will care for me? Who’ll listen to my cries and understand that I am hungry, if not for you. Who’ll hold my finger and teach me to walk and run? Who’ll wipe my tears when I fall and bruise my knee? It is really scary, Mom, to face this world when I know that I do not have you to make me feel good. When I have a fight I do not have Dad to go to, who would advice me to be strong and promises to take away all my worries. I miss those warm n affectionate hugs and embraces that I have read in many books.
If God is the one who sends us all to earth, I would like to ask him today, if he exists, what wrong I have done for you to punish me like this. Why did you wanted me to be treated like some waste lying in a garbage bin? Why did you make my mother such stone-hearted that she mercilessly disowned me? Am I like the worn out toy that needs to be put away before the child gets scared playing with it or am I your un-worthy and undeserving child? Or like sometimes people say, am I the unwanted outcome of the moments of pleasures that my parents had?”
