Dear reader,
While we travel through our life journey we often forget to recall upon our past memories, present moments and future well being. Let me take a moment with you my beloved reader, to share one of my most painful experiences, I encountered as a child.
It was one of those cold misty days where the sun’s rays were fighting to break through the foggy white sky. I was huddled inside my furry white bed cover when I heard my name being screeched out.
“Rani”, demanded my Nanu (grandma).
My heart skipped a beat as I heard my Nanu advancing her bulk of weight towards my bed side. Did she find out? Did she know I had not gone back to sleep like she had told me to? Surely she will not chase me with that big wooden spoon of hers again, not on such a special day as today!
Today was the day: my newly born brother will be arriving home from hospital. An ancient ritual called “Akika” will take place in his name. The ceremony consists of beheading 9 cows in the name of my brother, symbolizing love for our God and wishes of good health and fortune for my brother. The flesh of each 9 cow is given away to poverty stricken people of the nation, to represent the altruistic nature of my brother.
I was told to dress in my best sari by my Nanu (phew, she had only come to tell me to get dressed). I started to get impatient, wondering when my brother would finally arrive so I could play with him. My heart began to beat nervously, my mind began to race with infinite thoughts. I felt like a friendless creature in the morning’s sky that was impatiently waiting upon a sign of companionship.
Soon I heard a car’s ignition being switched off on our drive way. I took off like a jet rocket towards the still white microbus. My mum was seated on the passenger’s seat with teary eyes looking keenly at my little brother’s tiny body. I swept away my crystal pearls of joy with my tiny fragile fingers and began to shout
“Where’s my Brother, Mummy? Can I hold him? Please, please pleaseeeee’. I promise to look after him with my every bit of devotion.”
To my surprise I found mummy’s eyes to be filled with pain and grief. My Nanu bolted out to greet her new grandson…but sadly she had to witness a baby which was completely motionless. Having placed my lifeless brother into my Nanu’s arm’s, my mummy fell to the ground like a rag doll. I was absolutely crushed to pieces at the very situation. How could the most exciting day of my life be turned into a day of dismay? Being only 3 years of age, I did not understand the concept of “death”. My grandpapa was dead and I never got to speak to him, but surely our good God would allow me to speak to my beloved brother at least once!
Well reader, of course I learnt I would never be able to speak to my lost brother again. I learnt of human mortality, pain and suffering at the very early age of 3. We as people travelling the challenging life path must greet the very elements of pain and suffering as our friends. We, as people travelling the road of complexity, must understand and accept that life offers many joys and pleasure but these treasured elements in life can only exist with the balancing elements of pain and grief. Life is a balancing beam, one day or one instant it is a tropical paradise, while the next day life is black and meaningless. But reader, nothing in life is perfect so how could life itself be immaculate.
My family soon left our hometown of Khulna and travelled to the United States of America in order leave all our misery and sorrow behind. On the plane we made a pledge as a family to forget the anguish which my little brother had brought upon our hearts and start a fresh new life journey altogether. But memories are not as simply erased as we thought they could be. Memories and painful moments stick to your heart like glue to paper. My parents and I both learnt we could not simply forget our past heart aches by undertaking a physical journey. We realised that the painful loss of my brother will not be an event which we could ever forget.
In time, we accepted the loss of my brother and understood that our love for him will continue to grow, as will the pain within our hearts.
Growing up in the U.S was just amazing. I remember having sleepovers at friend’s places, sharing and throwing pop corn at each others faces and also going on that terrible first date which ended in total fury. I guess nothing can ever be perfect.
Love and pain are an inseparable couple, reader they cannot exist without one another. If you ask me I would actually say “Love and Pain” are a better suited couple than “Romeo and Juliet”.
Today I stand as an individual traveller on this forsaken life path, showing you my Reader, that problematic factors in life occur from a very young age but with acceptance and understanding of one’s situation and self we are able to continue our destination without stopping at the very small elements of grief and pain.
Reader, let’s use the problematic elements in life to our advantage; let “PAIN” be the cause of your perseverance and “LOVE” be the reason of life’s continuation.
While we travel through our life journey we often forget to recall upon our past memories, present moments and future well being. Let me take a moment with you my beloved reader, to share one of my most painful experiences, I encountered as a child.
It was one of those cold misty days where the sun’s rays were fighting to break through the foggy white sky. I was huddled inside my furry white bed cover when I heard my name being screeched out.
“Rani”, demanded my Nanu (grandma).
My heart skipped a beat as I heard my Nanu advancing her bulk of weight towards my bed side. Did she find out? Did she know I had not gone back to sleep like she had told me to? Surely she will not chase me with that big wooden spoon of hers again, not on such a special day as today!
Today was the day: my newly born brother will be arriving home from hospital. An ancient ritual called “Akika” will take place in his name. The ceremony consists of beheading 9 cows in the name of my brother, symbolizing love for our God and wishes of good health and fortune for my brother. The flesh of each 9 cow is given away to poverty stricken people of the nation, to represent the altruistic nature of my brother.
I was told to dress in my best sari by my Nanu (phew, she had only come to tell me to get dressed). I started to get impatient, wondering when my brother would finally arrive so I could play with him. My heart began to beat nervously, my mind began to race with infinite thoughts. I felt like a friendless creature in the morning’s sky that was impatiently waiting upon a sign of companionship.
Soon I heard a car’s ignition being switched off on our drive way. I took off like a jet rocket towards the still white microbus. My mum was seated on the passenger’s seat with teary eyes looking keenly at my little brother’s tiny body. I swept away my crystal pearls of joy with my tiny fragile fingers and began to shout
“Where’s my Brother, Mummy? Can I hold him? Please, please pleaseeeee’. I promise to look after him with my every bit of devotion.”
To my surprise I found mummy’s eyes to be filled with pain and grief. My Nanu bolted out to greet her new grandson…but sadly she had to witness a baby which was completely motionless. Having placed my lifeless brother into my Nanu’s arm’s, my mummy fell to the ground like a rag doll. I was absolutely crushed to pieces at the very situation. How could the most exciting day of my life be turned into a day of dismay? Being only 3 years of age, I did not understand the concept of “death”. My grandpapa was dead and I never got to speak to him, but surely our good God would allow me to speak to my beloved brother at least once!
Well reader, of course I learnt I would never be able to speak to my lost brother again. I learnt of human mortality, pain and suffering at the very early age of 3. We as people travelling the challenging life path must greet the very elements of pain and suffering as our friends. We, as people travelling the road of complexity, must understand and accept that life offers many joys and pleasure but these treasured elements in life can only exist with the balancing elements of pain and grief. Life is a balancing beam, one day or one instant it is a tropical paradise, while the next day life is black and meaningless. But reader, nothing in life is perfect so how could life itself be immaculate.
My family soon left our hometown of Khulna and travelled to the United States of America in order leave all our misery and sorrow behind. On the plane we made a pledge as a family to forget the anguish which my little brother had brought upon our hearts and start a fresh new life journey altogether. But memories are not as simply erased as we thought they could be. Memories and painful moments stick to your heart like glue to paper. My parents and I both learnt we could not simply forget our past heart aches by undertaking a physical journey. We realised that the painful loss of my brother will not be an event which we could ever forget.
In time, we accepted the loss of my brother and understood that our love for him will continue to grow, as will the pain within our hearts.
Growing up in the U.S was just amazing. I remember having sleepovers at friend’s places, sharing and throwing pop corn at each others faces and also going on that terrible first date which ended in total fury. I guess nothing can ever be perfect.
Love and pain are an inseparable couple, reader they cannot exist without one another. If you ask me I would actually say “Love and Pain” are a better suited couple than “Romeo and Juliet”.
Today I stand as an individual traveller on this forsaken life path, showing you my Reader, that problematic factors in life occur from a very young age but with acceptance and understanding of one’s situation and self we are able to continue our destination without stopping at the very small elements of grief and pain.
Reader, let’s use the problematic elements in life to our advantage; let “PAIN” be the cause of your perseverance and “LOVE” be the reason of life’s continuation.
