Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Saturday, March 27, 2010
A story about Pain and Conceal !!!
A story about Pain and Conceal!!!
An introductory page before the main action of a novel
It is the story of a poor boy, poor not in terms of funds but in terms of gratification. It is the story of a boy who born in lower middle class family in Mumbai. It is the story of a boy who has nothing to do with contentment and enjoyment. He is an ordinary boy who wants to achieve something in his life but waiting for some miracle to happen. Its my story. I am Yameen Thara (“KILL ME”). I don’t want to go in details about this now. I am writing this story because I felt I had to tell someone something and also want to confess. One request for you please doesn’t stop reading till the last page.
Also, let me tell you one more thing, this book is full of truths and real happening in one’s life. The hero of the story which we are about to have the honour to relate to our readers have nothing mythological about him.
A short time ago, while reading a book of my favourite author inspired me to write a book of own happening in life. It was not my intention here to enter into an analysis of this curious work of writing a book. While having a coffee on one Saturday night I take out my pen from a drawer and started writing, as I was having two days holiday from my hectic business of teaching. Words started coming in my mind and I started fulfilling my dream of writing a book and finally it is in front of you now. I would not say that this book is full of motivation and inspiration like other books but it talks about real pain and a conceal of my life. But, it is well known, what strikes in the mind of the writer is not always what affects the mass of readers. But I am putting my 100% to make it as a real story of one’s life.
On the last Wednesday of the month of August, 1985, an ordinary boy was born; in the city of Mumbai where in every couple of second 1 is born. At the time of my birth it was the time of festival where everybody in a city was enjoying but I never know that this enjoyment will ever come in my life.
I bought up in Nanded. In this little town I have many memories; my father was a businessman who fulfilled his duties very conscientiously and a man who rarely was able to give time to his family. My mother looked after the household and lovingly devoted herself to the care of her children.
I was ordinary simple boy like other but my childhood was not as usual to all it is totally different to all other kids. I was not having any friends of my age. Nobody in a street was of my age. I was having only two friends which were of my dad’s age. They were living according to themselves. In my childhood I never knew what is Gilli Dandu and kancha (Game which is played very commonly in childhood).
As I was not having friends I started making animal as my friends. I know telling Donkey as a friend is crazy thing but to share everything and keeping myself busy, I was doing this. I never share this thing to my parents because I am the only boy in my family on which all the responsibilities are there. I was also having one sister but she was 5 years elder to me. Ha my sis was also one of my friends but I never share my feeling to her. Nobody in my family knew what is going inside this smiling face. Always smiling face was keeping so much darkness inside.
I was crying looking at the open doors and waiting for some miracle to happen. I was thinking someday boys playing in Next Street will come and take me to play with them. Which never happen and I was continuously waiting for them like people wait for a tiny drop of water in desert. My sis every time supports me and tries to bring me out of loneliness. But it was not so easy for her also to do that.
At the age of three my mom put me into the school. This was English medium school for only name sake. Few days past in school but I was not sharp and was not feeling comfortable with other student. In short I was dumb in studies and a student who loves loneliness.
A young boy, we can sketch his portrait at a lonely road without any ambition and without any friends. Imagine how he feels at the age of four. He was totally different from all other student in the class he was just a boy which was observed of all observers.
After spending some critical years in poor family, I forget all my wants and needs. In very little age I got an idea I have to do it and fulfil it by my own. I was the son of a poor businessman, and while still a boy I grew restless and left all my dreams.
I spent my elementary school years at co-ed school called Nehru English School. I had a terrible time there; for some reason I was one of the pariahs of the class. The boys and girls were rich and clannish. The teachers were unjust, unpleasant and incompetent. My grades were only fair.
I was put to the Nehru-school at eight years of age; it was difficult for me to survive there also. I continued, however, at the Nehru-school. My classmates were friendly for a change. I liked the little intrigues with the girls in my co-ed classes. The other students and I went for lovely hikes in the mossy, brook-filled woods. But I failed in the semester exam, and made no progress in my Educational career. Many of my friends use to cheat and pass but I was having my own rules and regulation which pulled me down. I believe that nothing was useful which was not honest.
When I was barely nine years old I thought of doing something of my own. We were planning to buy a house by leaving the rented house. I inspired my dad by telling only a single sentence which motivated my dad to buy a new house. I told them, “dad I will now go to school by walking instead of Auto which will save Rs 120/month”. From childhood I have learn only one word i.e., sacrifice.
I was about fifteen years old, I think, when I succeeded in making myself what I had resolved to become. Thus I was able to fulfil the promise I had made as a poor boy not to stop until I was ‘somebody.’ I had gained my end. But in Nanded there was nobody who had remembered me as a little boy, and the world Childhood itself had become strange to me.
will be cont...
An introductory page before the main action of a novel
It is the story of a poor boy, poor not in terms of funds but in terms of gratification. It is the story of a boy who born in lower middle class family in Mumbai. It is the story of a boy who has nothing to do with contentment and enjoyment. He is an ordinary boy who wants to achieve something in his life but waiting for some miracle to happen. Its my story. I am Yameen Thara (“KILL ME”). I don’t want to go in details about this now. I am writing this story because I felt I had to tell someone something and also want to confess. One request for you please doesn’t stop reading till the last page.
Also, let me tell you one more thing, this book is full of truths and real happening in one’s life. The hero of the story which we are about to have the honour to relate to our readers have nothing mythological about him.
A short time ago, while reading a book of my favourite author inspired me to write a book of own happening in life. It was not my intention here to enter into an analysis of this curious work of writing a book. While having a coffee on one Saturday night I take out my pen from a drawer and started writing, as I was having two days holiday from my hectic business of teaching. Words started coming in my mind and I started fulfilling my dream of writing a book and finally it is in front of you now. I would not say that this book is full of motivation and inspiration like other books but it talks about real pain and a conceal of my life. But, it is well known, what strikes in the mind of the writer is not always what affects the mass of readers. But I am putting my 100% to make it as a real story of one’s life.
On the last Wednesday of the month of August, 1985, an ordinary boy was born; in the city of Mumbai where in every couple of second 1 is born. At the time of my birth it was the time of festival where everybody in a city was enjoying but I never know that this enjoyment will ever come in my life.
I bought up in Nanded. In this little town I have many memories; my father was a businessman who fulfilled his duties very conscientiously and a man who rarely was able to give time to his family. My mother looked after the household and lovingly devoted herself to the care of her children.
I was ordinary simple boy like other but my childhood was not as usual to all it is totally different to all other kids. I was not having any friends of my age. Nobody in a street was of my age. I was having only two friends which were of my dad’s age. They were living according to themselves. In my childhood I never knew what is Gilli Dandu and kancha (Game which is played very commonly in childhood).
As I was not having friends I started making animal as my friends. I know telling Donkey as a friend is crazy thing but to share everything and keeping myself busy, I was doing this. I never share this thing to my parents because I am the only boy in my family on which all the responsibilities are there. I was also having one sister but she was 5 years elder to me. Ha my sis was also one of my friends but I never share my feeling to her. Nobody in my family knew what is going inside this smiling face. Always smiling face was keeping so much darkness inside.
I was crying looking at the open doors and waiting for some miracle to happen. I was thinking someday boys playing in Next Street will come and take me to play with them. Which never happen and I was continuously waiting for them like people wait for a tiny drop of water in desert. My sis every time supports me and tries to bring me out of loneliness. But it was not so easy for her also to do that.
At the age of three my mom put me into the school. This was English medium school for only name sake. Few days past in school but I was not sharp and was not feeling comfortable with other student. In short I was dumb in studies and a student who loves loneliness.
A young boy, we can sketch his portrait at a lonely road without any ambition and without any friends. Imagine how he feels at the age of four. He was totally different from all other student in the class he was just a boy which was observed of all observers.
After spending some critical years in poor family, I forget all my wants and needs. In very little age I got an idea I have to do it and fulfil it by my own. I was the son of a poor businessman, and while still a boy I grew restless and left all my dreams.
I spent my elementary school years at co-ed school called Nehru English School. I had a terrible time there; for some reason I was one of the pariahs of the class. The boys and girls were rich and clannish. The teachers were unjust, unpleasant and incompetent. My grades were only fair.
I was put to the Nehru-school at eight years of age; it was difficult for me to survive there also. I continued, however, at the Nehru-school. My classmates were friendly for a change. I liked the little intrigues with the girls in my co-ed classes. The other students and I went for lovely hikes in the mossy, brook-filled woods. But I failed in the semester exam, and made no progress in my Educational career. Many of my friends use to cheat and pass but I was having my own rules and regulation which pulled me down. I believe that nothing was useful which was not honest.
When I was barely nine years old I thought of doing something of my own. We were planning to buy a house by leaving the rented house. I inspired my dad by telling only a single sentence which motivated my dad to buy a new house. I told them, “dad I will now go to school by walking instead of Auto which will save Rs 120/month”. From childhood I have learn only one word i.e., sacrifice.
I was about fifteen years old, I think, when I succeeded in making myself what I had resolved to become. Thus I was able to fulfil the promise I had made as a poor boy not to stop until I was ‘somebody.’ I had gained my end. But in Nanded there was nobody who had remembered me as a little boy, and the world Childhood itself had become strange to me.
will be cont...
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