For as long as I lived, I lived with regrets. Regrets that makes one ashamed of themselves. I, am, unfortunately one of those people;even though, people who see me through a keyhole will think that I'm a privileged child. Nourished in wealth, brought up with silver spoon but once you unlock and open the door, glancing at all corners;you'll see me.
I was not good in studies, my brother was. So, of course, he got what i wanted. No- i never wanted grades, i just wanted respect. Not from my classmates or teachers but from my own parents. is it too much to ask for?
Being productive in studies doesn't mean anything if you are not a good person. My brother, on countless occassions was caught touching himself outside of girls changing room: i saw him peeping through small slits, saw that malevolent smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and after that, he would run, faster than any one;to tell his Friends what he saw.
This was obviously overlooked by my parents, as every excuse for his wicked mischief was circled back to one thing:
"Well... Atleast he's good in studies, he has topped twice or maybe thrice, who knows maybe more than that. Well leave that aside, what's for dinner?"
After that my brother would laugh; looking at me, he would smirk and pat my back so hard that his hands would leave a mark for many days. One year difference between him and me;he being elder should have showed more maturity but I fullfilled that role. Instead of appreciation, I got remarks like:
"You should learn from your brother."
Learn what? How to be a pervert or how to bully others weaker than you?
People often create this illusion around themselves. If a man is providing for his family by doing a job, he's seen as dutiful and righteous but if that same man leaves his job and pursues something that he actually wants to do;then the same people who called him dutiful will gossip around their Veranda, creating hypothetical scenarios and spreading the propoganda that he must've been fired.
...
At seventeen I got to know that I was adopted. Everything, honestly, made more sense after that revelation. I wondered who my real parents were... Would they love me? Would they share my passion as strongly as my adoptive parents praise jeremy(my brother).
When they told me I was adopted, my reactions shocked them. I just said: "alright, i will pack my things and leave as soon as I could."
To my suprise, they said nothing...
What was I even expecting? Was i expecting that they're going to hold me and say: "oh you poor sweet child, you are like our son only. We will pay for your further education and never ever will we make you feel that we aren't your real parents."
Perhaps, if that ever happens, I will die; content with joy.
But that could only happen to others not me.
I am in a middle of a road, behind me there is a house filled with strangers, ahead of me a world filled with strangers as well. Whichever way i choose, struggle is going to be my constant companion.
At eighteen, i moved from zelarin street to- nowhere. I had nowhere to go;no one to talk, and jeremy was still smiling at me. Perhaps he was relieved of my constant lectures about sophistication and manners.
So much self loathing, so much hate was embroiled in my mind. I went from inn to inn, constantly changing places. Never staying at one place.
One day I remembered i had a weird conversation with a person named- jack agatya. An amiable face that paraded chivalry and confidence. I liked that sort of people, they not only cared about themselves but their surroundings too.
"Can I sit here?" Asked jack agatya.
I had looked at him and thought he was going to sell me some encyclopedia or some sort of doctrine by false gods.
On usual days i would have declined and moved from that inn but on that particular day, I was feeling very alone. He seemed like a genuine person, a person who will make a good interlocutor, vanishing my misery for transient moments.
"A beer for me and this gentleman right here," he nodded and smiled. "You seem young, if you dont mind;what are you doing here?"
"Nothing, just traveling from inn to inn, hoping to get some work."
"Ahh I see, work. Is your education complete? If yes, I could look something for you."
"It's not but my knowledge should be enough to land me one."
"Well that's what everyone says, unfortunately knowledge doesn't guarantee success in this world. I really hope it did."
Beers made us talk more and more, i opened up and he did too. I basically blurted everything out about my life to a stranger. It felt good and at the same time, it felt like I was betraying myself.
Sometimes words heal, sometimes they hurt us. It's a strange dilemma, keeping thoughts inside can make you feel frustrated but saying the truth out loud can make people your enemy.
We drank more, talked more, laughed more. It was probably the happiest day of my life. Finding someone who would hear my thoughts without judging me. It made me feel seen, made me feel special.
But... He said something that I still think about it often.
"Tired of this world aren't we? Do you want to go to a new world? A world distant and different from this: this world has cars, corruption and bad people. The world where we'll go has dragons, kingdoms and... well bad people too cause some things never change. So, what you say? Want to start anew?"
I don't know what happened to me at that time, i blinked and said: "yes please. Yes i will go anywhere new."
He just smiled and left, never to be seen again.