I will tell you a story today. You should know, first, that I have very good memory. It is a boon, at times, but most of the times it is bane. This is when I was in kindergarten. My teacher locked us up in our classroom for not been quite when there was nobody monitoring the class. It was her way of punishing us. It ended up motivating all the other kids to have more fun than they already were having. You see, now, they knew the world was, for sure, not seeing them or judging them and there was no way of being caught in the act. However, I ran to the door, started crying and slamming the door while screaming to be let out. I remember the color of the door. It was green. It had a hole right around the place that they have peepholes. At that age, I did not know what it was for. For me, as far as I was concerned, it was a way of letting the outside world know that I was trapped inside and wanted out. As I was not tall enough to talk through the hole or see through it, I found a stick,which was generally used to spank us, and tried to push it through the hole as a signal to the outside world that we were trapped inside.
I have always remembered my actions before, during, and after, that incident. I remember each of the similar incidents that happened to me before or after that. It was in the third, or fourth, grade that I stopped crying when I was locked in. Funny thing is, the first time I did not cry was the first time the class decided not to have fun. Let us just say, they were too busy looking at me because they were surprised I was not crying. Couple of them even pointed at the door to remind me that the door was locked.
I never could remember what was going through my mind back then. It is as if I blocked out the mental trauma but the physical assertion, or trauma, I remembered. On Dec 23rd 2018, my 31st birthday, I remembered how it felt. On that day, my pent up emotions knew no bound. They unlocked corners of my brain, which I had long forgotten. That day, I was feeling the same way I had felt when I was locked in that room with all those kids. As I remember, I felt alone among those kids, some of whom were my friends. I was scared. I did not know why I was been punished because of some other person’s actions. However, probably the worst feeling of them all was the feeling that I will not be able to see my parents and my brother. For me, they were my world. Home was a place where it did not matter if I had a cleft palate, if I could not pronounce words properly, that I had a weird mouth, or that I was strange. It was a place where I was not pointed at in ridicule and I was not judged even before talking to me or knowing me.
For 22 years of my life I did not need the world, I was with my parents. They were all I needed. Then I moved to a different country. Made a mistake of considering everyone my family. what else did I know? I did not know how to keep people away, how to differentiate friends from family and strangers from friends. Until 8 years later, everything came crashing down. You can only test your luck for so long before it turns on you.
On that day, on my 31st birthday, I felt alone among people. I had just lost one third of my world two months prior – my father. For all he gave me in his life, for all his sacrifices, when I had to be with him, beside him, I was too busy wanting appreciation from the world and from a girl. My father used to fear that my country and its people would eat me alive. That I was too soft for my own good. Therefore, he sent me to a country that he thought would nourish me. I did not realize, back then, that he loved me too much to point out how stupid I was to believe in the world. To believe that the world will return me the favor every time I give it something. I did not realize back then, that he was my world and the nourishment I needed.
There is no message in this. I lack the confidence in me, today, to preach something out of this. There is no moral, or proverb, that I am wishing to convey. Sometimes, perfect does not have to be complicated. Sometimes, perfect can just be simple.