Bitter Sweet Memories

Yesterday night, unusually, I was reminscing about few bitter memories surrounding my dad and maternal uncle that have stayed with me. And they refuse to leave me and go. They not only haunt me time-to-time but torment me mercilessly.


I have just 1 maternal uncle. But he has always liked my sister more than me. He has been very vocal about his choice when he used to tell to his friends and relatives “S is my favorite niece”. This could possibly be because of the fact that I have always been rebellious in my nature – especially when restricted. But then, everyone wants to be loved. I felt (feel ?) so sad to accept that he loved my sister more than I.

In particular, I remember the following incidents:

I studied in all girls school. During 9th standard, school had organized a day long trip to Belur and Halebidu. My entire class was going and even I wanted to go. When I sought permission, my uncle refused to let me go. I truly don’t understand why. When I started rebelling, he asked me to talk to my dad. And even my dad refused to let me go. What was worst – they were not giving me any logical reason for denying me permission. Again, I had to create a hungama to get permission and finally did manage to go on this trip. But at what cost?

I wanted to learn to ride a 2-wheeler. My dad never had anytime nor patience to teach his girls himself. My uncle offered to teach us. One early morning, he took both of us – my sister and I – to the near by ground. I had purchased a new Hero Puch. He said he will teach my sister first. Although, I was disappointed, I accepted to waited for my turn.

And that is what I did for the next 1.5 hours. They did not turn up at all. Tired of waiting and my feet aching all over, I walked back home in a huff. Upon reaching home, he made fun of this situation and promised (not so seriously) to teach me another day. That “another” day NEVER came. But I wanted to learn 2-wheeler. I started pestering my dad to teach me. My dad, if not anything, is an expert in delegating work.

Over the week end, a middle-aged uncle, one of my dad’s reportees came home. He said dad had entrusted him the task of teaching me to ride a 2-wheeler. Although, I was extremely disappointed with my dad, the thought of learning to ride brought cheer.

I took this uncle to the ground along with my new Hero Puch. He asked me to be seated in the driver seat and he sat pillion for ease of teaching. First half hour, he taught me how to balance the vehicle, nuances of riding etc. But very soon, I noticed that his hands started roving at all wrong places of my body. While I was riding the vehicle, he was carassing me all over…

I was so scared that I let go of the bike. We both fell off the bike. I told “Uncle” I wanted to go home. By the time we reached home, my dad had arrived. He asked how did it go. This “Uncle” said it was going on fine but I had asked to go home and he did not understand why.

My dad was furious. He scolded me for missing out on a good opportunity and said he will never engage anybody else to teach me. In many ways, I was happy that he never engaged anybody else to teach me. With whatever little knowledge I had picked up, I went on to learn this myself.

But then, the saddest part, to me, is the fact that my dad did not bother to think or understand the reason beneath my denial to learn from this uncle. Even after I voluntarily told him about this incident, his words left me shocked “I don’t think this uncle is that kind of a person. You are very much mistaken”. — this was the first incident that told me that my father did not trust me.

During college days, one of my classmates, R’s sister was getting married. And we all knew her quite well as we used to visit his place often. The reception was being held in Hotel Ajantha and several of our classmates wanted to go. As was my upbringing, I asked my dad for his permission. And you cannot imagine what his response was – “I will not allow you to go. I know that with the pretext of attending this classmates sister’s reception, you will loaf around cubbon park that falls on the way. You will spoil the name of my family” — second incident that told me he NEVER trusted me.

And, I stopped asking permission from him. From this day, I went on to do all the things I wanted to do ever.

I don’t regret the way I turned out to be. For, I am a much better person and a compassionate human being now. I have grown up and learnt a lot from these incidents. I learnt that if I were brave and did the right things, I did not have to be scared nor tell lies. People tell lies because they are scared, out of sheer fear factor.
I also started taking my own decisions, which made me very responsible. So, in many ways, I have to thank these incidents for the way I have turned out to be
But then, somewhere, it still hurts. I still feel so bitter about these incidents. I have neither been able to forget nor forgive.