Redemption: How I escaped from my past
Ever imagined how different phases of your life can be juxtaposing? Reminiscing about my former life reminds me of all the hardships I had to go through. I was a meek and timid boy, who was reserved and had very few friends. I had recently come back from the United States of America, and boy, did I have serious trouble in coping with the Indian syllabi and curriculum. I was coerced to wake up at five in the morning to attend remedial classes. My condition was that terrible, that I could have been demoted to kindergarten due to disparity with my peers in terms of “gyan buddhi” (intelligence) by my teacher. My mother defended her stance that I could go against all odds and pass that session. So I did, and received my first certificate for general improvement. Well it did not seem like a life and death situation but if I were to be demoted, things could have been way different.
As I grew up I made friends, whom I lost contact through the years. I was introverted and my old best friend had shifted to California. I wasn’t quite lonely to be frank, but things started to fall apart. In class four I had this one pesky boy who used to sit beside me. He plays an important role in my story in a way. I used get bullied by him and get abashed by his demeanor by getting called “stupid” and “idiot”. One time he had snatched my pencil box from me and passed it to the front benches. It was an English Literature class back then, and I really did not want my pencil box to be carried away from my sight. I got up and started chasing after it and I immediately got caught by the teacher. She made me sit in a corner where all my classmates were staring at me. For an eight year old boy, it was a surge of emotions. I couldn’t help but cry. It was probably one of the most gruesome moments in my life. I really do not remember what happened afterwards. One thing for sure is, I despised him all my life. Apparently, my bully was a class topper back then. Quite surprising, eh? I was one of the weaker students in terms of academics, and I did not have any activities to participate in. I always wanted to be a painter, but the alacrity was ephemeral. I really did not have the artistic talent to be one; my drawings looked like malformed scarecrows getting choked on helium. Well, one of the most important parts in my life was when I became the topper of my class (miraculously) and overthrew my bully’s from his secured position in class. At first, he had a vendetta against me, which he would naturally. However, this guy had a twisted personality. He actually was a bit possessive about me. It’s difficult to explain but things grow weird from this point. As we matured, he did touch me at some rather inappropriate places of my body. I did not understand it much back then but when I look back at it, I felt it was abusive.
I was really innocent back then, and I did know that there was a term called “sexuality”. Of course, I never thought about it. Slowly, I entered the phase of puberty, and I felt a change within me. I had a surreal feeling towards my bully. Stockholm syndrome? Lust? I was not aware. There was a time he once called me a “eunuch”, because I apparently was effeminate. It was perplexing. I had no idea. Why was my life revolving around him? I came to terms with myself — I liked men. Funny, I did not know what a “homosexual” was. The only definition of “gay” I knew was the state of euphoria. Who knew, it also had an entirely different meaning, but now I can see it really isn’t that deviating. However, I never did admit it back then.
I once got furious when my bully was taunting me along with his friends, when he once again snatched a stationary from me when I was thirteen. It was a repetition of previous events but it was different. For the first time, all my hatred and regrets got accumulated into one outburst that I punched him from the back and that ended up him getting injured. He crashed into a chair and when I realized what I had done, I immediately apologized but when I saw him, I was awestruck. His left eyelid was bleeding badly. I had never been that scared in my life. I committed an offence. An impulse took over me. His incorrigible attitude made me rage. He was rushed to the school infirmary, and I was just too terrified to even visit him. I saw the nurse applying huge pieces of cotton to treat the smeared blood over his eyelid. It was a gory sight to witness. Afterwards, I was chided by the level mentor for the first time. When I returned home, I was crying profusely on the couch for about two hours. My face was blemished with tears of regret. I never wanted to hurt him, yet I did. I was scared that he might lose his sight, and I was guilty for that. I wanted to revert back time. I was in a mess. My mother tried her best to console me. It was hard. I did not want things to turn out this way. I did not see him in two weeks. I did not know his fate. I was distraught. I tried distracting myself by taking part in a science project, and I felt it was a way to atone for my sin. When I did meet him again, he smiled at me. He said, and I quote, “Thank you for giving me this scar, I look handsome because of it”. I was appalled. After all I have been through! I get a compliment for something that I absolutely despised myself for. Nonetheless I decided to distance myself from him, I never want to hurt him again.
The rest was history. I met my best friend (Miss Jerusalem) whom I confided in my sexuality (though I was queer back then since I stated I was bisexual but I was actually gay), after she told me about hers. I found it intriguing how similar our pasts were. This is bringing back old memories, and soon I met my other best friend. We had loads of fun. My long-lasting desires over my bully started fading away into darkness. I was alleviated from a burden that weighed me down. I was now prudent for the future, because I knew I was invincible. For the first time, I could say I was genuinely happy.
