A wistful wish

My colleague AG often used to threaten to leave home. One day he did
after bellowing like a mad bull. The dramatic intensity was heightened when his nephew clutched hold of his knees and begged him to stay back while a verbal battle was raging between him and his parents. AG stomped out anyways and put up with two of his rebel friends in an incompletely built house. For a month they would drink tea which tasted like pig's piss and which was actually meant for the labourers at the site. And the food that they had were available for Rs 2 in an aluminium thali(dish). Sounds rather adventurous and something I would never have done (especially for the last few reasons).

For myself, I have never threatened to leave home, timid as I was. The only time I was kicked out was at 11 at night. I was in the Vth std probably and I had got a really bad spanking. Now I don't remember for exactly what. The plot next to ours was empty and hence full of wild undergrowth which was quite scary. I hated going past it after daylight. Next to it lived a girl whom I could never manage to like but whom my parents praised to the skies. Reason: She used to get up at 5 in the morning. Now after being beaten up thoroughly, I was sent out to her house to ask at what time exactly she would get up and study.

Couldn't have thought of a worse punishment. It was a nightmare crossing the dark wild stretch. With a tear stained face I rang her bell. Her expression when she saw me at the door was rather comical. But who would blame her. Imagine seeing your neighbour calling in the middle of the night to see when you get up in the morning. After she confirmed it was 5 o'clock, I bid her a goodnight quite nonchalantly.

Sometimes I wish I had left home and not returned for a month. I would never have received half the beatings I did. Usually it was like this: my mom would come rushing at me with her wooden ladle and I would stand in the middle of the room waiting for it to come cracking on my back. Only when I was a little older, did I start running round and round our oval table with her in my wake.

That was exactly how it used to be. And all I would do be to mutter ala Eliza Doolittle style, "Just you wait!"


Mint Chutney said...

My mom rarely hit us but my dad used to punish my older sister and I until I was about 5 or 6. Nothing horrible, but enough to scare us straight. One day when I was 21 my dad got mad at me and slapped me. We both probably had the same shocked expression on our faces. The first thing that came out of my mouth was "What the heck did you do that for?" and he promptly chased me upstairs where I made it to my room and slammed the door. When he left the house, I called my sister and brother-in-law who picked me up. My mom convinced me to come back home but not before I wrote my dad a letter that said I would be moving out as soon as my little sister finished high school. My dad and I eventually talked to each other again although, as typical with him, he pretended like nothing happened. (I didn't move out until 4 years later).

eM said...

My mom used to slap me all the time--for not finishing my milk, for getting maths sums wrong--is it any wonder I HATE both milk and maths!

Toe Knee said...

Fortunately or unfortunately, nothing of the sort ever happened to me. Guess, am too used to the comforts of living at home to even think of giving it all up.

Mangs said...

nowadays though, parents don't beat their kids up so much, do they? My nieces and nephews always have everything LOGICALLY explained to them. and noone ever says 'no' to them.

AB said...

mint chutney: That rushing straight for your room as fast as your legs could carry you - it used to be the same with me. It was later in life, during high school, when I used to bang the door really hard with my mother thumping on it and threatening me with dire consequences once I stepped out.

eM: In my case there were so many things to hate. Along with milk and maths, I could add fish too;-)

Toe knee:I can't imagine you ever leaving home, really:-)

mangs: I know, nowadays kids are so grown up. I guess that explains it. If that means escaping the rod, it's better, isn't it?

motheater said...

my parents didn't need to beat me up... with four kids in the house, there were plenty of people to enthusiastically thump me into toeing the line :-) I gave as good as I got though... a very violent and fun childhood!

Toe Knee said...

Hey, I resent that. Why do people think I can't manage living alone?

AB said...

Toe Knee: Ok ok I take it back. But the fact remains;)

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