What is pain? I can classify pain as physical and emotional.
Physical pain is when we get a wound, cramps, muscle pull, etc. This pain
generally happens suddenly and when its healed you tend to forget but if you
see the mark of than wound at times you may remember but at times you may not.
Let’s move to emotional pain. When a person does something wrong to another
person or he does wrong to himself, that causes pain in his heart (I’m not
talking about heart pains which is physical but the emotional one). This can be
seen when a person cries, his mood goes off, sad, etc. This emotional pain
leads to hurt and I’ve experienced a lot off then in my childhood. When in my
childhood, my dad was really strict. May be he had to be that way at that time,
but I felt it was too much. There are many hurts he caused me and I’m going to share
a few.
I feel it’s because of my dad that I am now able to study
well and do a lot of things well which is a positive point. Negatively, I try
to play safe from people who act like my father. Sometimes I don’t do it
purposely but its just inside me and I act and as my mother was good I tend to
be good to people who act as a motherly figure. So I’ll write some incidents
from my life.
Once I remember my father teaching me multiplication sums. I
was very weak in math. He gave me some problems to solve and looking at them I
got nervous. I couldn’t remember what to do and even my multiplication tables
were bad. My mother would often come to my aid and so she approached me and
began to help me. My father had gone out for some work and so grandma too helped
me. When he returned, he posed new problems to me. I was unable to solve them.
He began to fire me, knocking me over the head and then beating me. He made me
do sums till I was able to do them. My memory fades here.
Another time, I had a drawing exam the following day and I
couldn’t draw for nuts (now at least I’m a little better). He called me and
asked me about the next day’s exam. I showed him the portion, which were of 3-4
drawings. He asked me to draw a coconut but I struggled. He began to shout at
me, forcing me to draw nicely. I was really afraid. After the shouting I found
it difficult to even grasp the pencil. He proceeded to beat me with a ruler
first and then a belt. Finally I managed to complete the coconut and felt
relieved. I had my supper and then dad called me back. He gave me the same
page. The picture I had earlier drawn was rubbed out. He asked me to draw the
picture again. My mother came to take me to sleep but dad acted rashly and beat
her with the ruler. It had almost become 12 am. Grandma came to see what was
going on because I was crying and dad was beating and shouting at me. On seeing
her he stopped beating me but didn’t let me go to sleep. That night, I drew the
coconut four times. Each time it was erased, the page was turned and I was
asked to draw it again. I finally went to bed at 2 am. While I slept, dad came
and applied ointment over the places where I had received blows. I rose up at 6
am the next morning with a headache. I didn’t feel like going to school but
didn’t dare to say so. I had my breakfast and went.
The exam was a real surprise. Can you guess why? We had to
draw a coconut! I had almost mastered it by then and so you can imagine my joy.
The experiences I had with my father are imprinted on my
memory and while I didn’t appreciate the manner he taught me lessons, he
nevertheless has helped me a lot. Even though my father was strict it had a reason behind it. I did not understand it then, but now I do. I am happy I had a father so strict who brought me to the right path. I owe a lot to him.
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