Wednesday, April 8, 2015

The Boy who was not broken :)

Everyone has a story, so do I. The only difference probably is that mine is written in blood! Don't get confused; you read it right. As a child, I was often bullied because of my color. I was not white and fair which is considered as the standard for being beautiful. But I don't think it was my fault. May be the creator chose to paint me in the black tone. That was his wish and living my life with equality is mine. Now, that's different that my wishes are not always granted. 'The world is not a wish granting factory'.

The school where I studied was full of white children who used to make me feel an odd one out on a daily basis. I was fed up. There were days when they beat me black and blue but I could not get them punished despite complaining so many times against them. I was aware that if I would tell my parents about it, they might help me but I didn't want to unnecessary trouble them. I was hopeful that the things will change sooner or later.

But nothing changed. I used to return home bleeding at times and then made a lame excuse in front of my parents. They were beginning to worry and then I decided to confess. They heard my story and instantly felt my pain. They offered me to change my school but I told them that I will manage. They were scared for me. I assured them that I will bring about a change in their thinking. I will open a school one day and when their children will take admission there, they will learn to be compassionate. My parents looked at me, appalled. They asked me that how am I going to do that. I showed them my savings. Yes, I had not spent a single penny from my pocket money for all those years. I told them once I pass out from a good college and get enough degrees, I will reach my dreams.

They were not sure but agreed only on one condition that I will tell them if things worsened. However, the children were already tired of beating me. They could not tear me apart, they could not take away my hope and dream for a better tomorrow. They had given up but I hadn't. I was only moving ahead on the path of my ambition, one step at a time.

And today, I stand at the gates of my own school with my parents, waiting for them to cut the ribbon and declare the school open. I feel I am born, a second time as I stand here and revisit the days when I was bullied for something that I had no control on. And in my heart, I thanked all of them for giving me my aim.

- The Boy who was not broken

#CrumpledVoices2


7 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. Thanks a lot Harshi for your feedback :)

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  2. Replies
    1. Thanks Shikha for taking out time to read this one. Hope this inspires you! :)

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    2. Sure Ila. My story's on the way....

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  3. What a mature outlook - change maker!

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    Replies
    1. Thanks Reet. Your feedback made me feel that I'm treading on the right path. Hope you join in :)

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