Animals are a very vital part of our environment who are cruelly slaughtered! So here is a sincere request to all you nincompoops to please stop hunting, poaching and trading of animals especially the endangered ones. Else they will all go extinct! And yes, if you cannot do this, then please do us all a little favour and kill yourself. Because it is better to be dead then to spend your entire life in prison.
-from wildlife biologists, zoologists, animal conservationists, geneticists and various other organisations (whose names you might not have heard because you all are busy hunting our future)
The door bell rings. Mommy gets up and looks at her watch on the bedside, it is two in the morning. “It must be him…” she mutters and opens the door. Daddy enters in a weird fashion! As usual he creates a commotion. I am wide awake and so does my baby brother, he starts crying loud and clear until she lifts him in her arms, sings him a lullaby and puts him back to sleep. Daddy was never like that, he used to take me out to play in the parks on Sundays and then later buy me an ice-cream. He has been all sad and gloomy ever since daddy took me to see that doctor. That doctor was a little off, he didn’t give me a lollipop and there where many big machines and pictures of bones on the walls.
You must be wandering what happened next? I grew up. I grew up with love, care and protection from mommy while she grew up dealing with my father! She protected me from every harm that came my way….I wish I had reciprocated. She protected me from him and all those bitter candies he forced down my throat . He always used to hit her when she did that. I wish I had raised my voice against him. She didn’t let daddy take me to that weird doctor, but he took me there anyways. Every time I used to go there he would look at me and the skeleton pictures with disapproval.
I acted like a coward and said nothing. I did nothing. My mommy suffered. And I let her suffer. All these years hoping that someday this all would end. And today it did, when I stabbed her with the kitchen knife.
My childhood. I can’t remember much about it as if it has passed me by in those piles of photographs. But I do remember following my elder brother around, doing what he did and speaking what he said.
There were only a few obvious differences In our opinions, like I loved barbies and the colour pink (I mean seriously! All my clothes were pink) whereas he loved pokemon and the colour green. When we were small (unfortunately for me) my brother aspired to become a doctor. So he would poke the eyes of my dolls and pull their hands and legs out. He would then try to fix them but ended up making it worse. Even after this he was my role model.
So when he join karate classes, how could I have stayed behind?? It was a boys-only karate classes but that didn’t stop me, neither could my mother who tried to bribe me by giving me a new doll-set to stay at home. I followed my brother and refused to leave his side. Well, do not blame me!! I was just a 6 year-old girl!!
I mimicked whatever he did. Weeks passed by but still something felt wrong rather, missing. It striked me that all of them including my brother were wearing white coloured pants and jacket with a yellow cotton belt. The next day, I turned my cupboard upside-down. I wanted the uniform!! I had white pants and a white top from my p.t uniform. So all that was missing was a belt. I pulled out a pink cotton belt from one of my dresses and put it on.
When I showed up wearing a weird version of the karate uniform, the strict coach laughed for the first time it seemed!! I went there everyday wearing that uniform. The coach always used to say that I was better than them all and yelled at the others. I was the smallest among them all so I also enjoyed many privileges.
Then, I didn’t know that the colour of your belt denotes your rank. Yellow was for juniors and there are no pink belts at all!! I was the only pink-belt in karate! Or atleast that’s what the coach used to call me!!
We both have been best friends for years. He understands my feelings even when I’m quiet. It’s not because he is gay but because we share a bonding that goes back to our childhood. He is the kind of person who always has a take on everything but he has been mute since I told him that my husband might be cheating on me. I know what I should do but sometimes you need to hear it from someone to move on. I stare at him, hoping he would say something, anything. But, he began crying.
I feel like the worst person in the world, selfish, mean and insensitive to do this to her. I can’t help but cry. She will hate me and would never talk to me. How will I ever be able to look her in the eye?? I feel so embarrassed lying to her. Her husband belongs to one of those rich families. It would be an insult, if they knew that he was gay!! And worst of all- in love with me. I wish I had known about him before, I would have never let nikky marry him! This will all have to end. I will leave tomorrow and never come back.
‘No! Do not drift off to sleep.’ I kept telling myself over and over again. ‘I have to complete this sweater, no matter what.’ Tomorrow is my grandson’s birthday. I have been coming here every night for weeks now. And it is almost complete. I can’t knit this sweater at home because his vacations are going on, and I want this sweater to be a surprise for him. The only thing on my mind is that he likes it.
Woww! It is the first time I have come here at such an hour and I must say it looks completely different. For instance, it is so quiet that I can even hear my own breathing. The eccentric smell of the night blooming jessamine fills my lungs and flutters my heart. I sit there on one of the benches and all I do is look around at the beatiful creations of the nature. The moon light falls on the trees creating a silhouette which gave the whole surrounding a mysterious appearance. The wind blows causing the leaves to rush into each other.
Sitting here I feel enraptured by the beauty around me. I close my eyes and after a few minutes I could hear the crickets stirdulate and the barking of dogs from a distance. I could feel the chilled air filling my lungs. I open my eyes. Aimless, I stroll around. There are a few people here, all of them are cool and calm. I-myself feel relaxed, relieved and elated.
Suddenly the realisation stuck me as I was standing there talking to my friends outside the school. “This is all I ever wanted.” I said almost to myself. “Friends. School. A girlfriend.” She was leaning on my shoulder and the most pretty girl I have ever laid eyes on. As we stood there talking I knew that I was wanted. “Hey man! We are late for the football practice. There is a big game coming up this weekend, coach would kill us if we skip practice. Let’s go.” Said the guy standing next to me, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Yeah sure.” I said and followed him. I stop abruptly in front of a glass case with trophies and medals and photographs in the hallway. I found myself looking at someone else. It was my reflection. But the face of that rich guy who often comes to the café I work at, was plastered over my face. I touched my face with my hand and he did the same. My skin felt different under my hand and suddenly I was scared to dead. “John, is something wrong?” Said the guy I was following. “My name is not John and this is not me.” I yelled out of frustration and horror. That is when I wake up and find myself in my bed. I run to the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. I feel relieved on seeing that familiar face- my face in the mirror. I don’t have alot of money or time to go to school, so my uncle homeschools me at night. My parents died a long time ago. I don’t have any friends. I work at café and a departmental store. And life goes on. It is extremely difficult at times but me and my uncle somehow manage. This is my life.
I was looking for a book on evolution in the library, for my school science project when something touched my feet, on looking down I found a letter. I looked around, to find the owner, but no one was there. My curiosity got the better of me and I did that one thing I shouldn’t have done, I opened that letter.
Today is your 16th birthday and my 327th attempt to write you a letter, trying to explain why I had to leave and how much I love you and miss you and how I always keep thinking about you.
But how does it matter?? Because I never have the courage to send it to you!!
-your coward mother.
That letter left me speachless. I felt pity for this women. I didn’t know what exactly had happened in their lives and it was not my burden to bear but that day I did another thing I wasn’t supposed to do…….I posted it.