Tuesday, March 17, 2015

First time in my life: The story of how optimism gets you do things

I was in class XII then, studying in a school in Delhi, away from the loved ones, my parents, my sibling, and the environment I was used to, since childhood. No matter how brave you are, how much you endure, you find it difficult staying away from the loving mother whom you would always wake up to, or the caring father who acted up hard to get you back on the track if you did something wrong and woke up all night to care for you when you fell sick, more importantly when it was your first time. For me too, it was difficult.  Though I was staying at a relative's place, it was still a new place, new relatives (afterall, those who gave you a visit once in 5-6 years, for a couple of hours, and you met them at the railway station, while you waited down there for the next train to take you to your destination), no friends, and a new school, and I was not even prepared for what was coming down my way. The new school was just like the other schools I went to, so I found almost no problems switching, except the problems I faced as a result of changing schools in the middle of the session.

The mornings went by getting ready for the school, boarding the school bus and reaching school, reaching back home in afternoon, completing the homework and then, by evening, I started missing my friends, and family. The evening time, in the environment I was used to live in, was for recreation. Children would run down to play with friends, adults would huddle up for gossips, and here, there was nothing. I used to sit secluded, missing everyone, still trying to hide up the sorrow, so as not to hurt the relatives (who were to be my guardians for the next couple of months). After many sleepless nights, I somehow settled in. Being self sufficient, taking care of my own, being strong, even though I missed important parts of my life. Then came Dussehra break, I got a chance to go back home, 600kms north of Delhi, situated in the lap of the Himalayas, a place where my father was posted at that time.

The excitement of meeting your loved ones, fills you with optimism, brings out the best of you, makes you brave. And this is what happened with me. Since my father couldn't get any more leaves, since he had already spent a lot of them trying to make me settle down at Delhi, and I had to get back home, down in my mum's laps who would gently and lovingly massage my head, to the loving brother, with whom, I had a love-hate relationship. Love, because he is my brother and we grew together, fighting, playing, eating and studying together. Hate because he, at times became a reason for me getting beaten up, confessing about my latest fight in the playground to my mother, complaining about me opening the only Audio-cassette player we had. Going back to the loving father, who would get me the sweets I liked, or the toy I once asked for, even if that meant him doing away with the plan to purchase himself a new set of clothes, since he could only afford one of them at that particular point of time. This made me brave, so much so that I went to the railway station, got myself a reservation, all by my own, then on the day of journey, took the bus to the station, found out the platform my train was on, located the coach and the seat, and then travelled down 600kms, to the last railway station, only to have to do a three hour journey in a bus, cutting steep corners on treacherous mountains, to reach my home, where people were eagerly awaiting my arrival, longing to see me for the last three months, and I did that all alone, for the first time in my life.

This is the power of optimism. Long for something, and see yourself getting it.

No comments:

Post a Comment