Dear parents and dear teachers,
I know I’m a bad boy. I’m so rude and disobedient. I don’t follow your instructions. I don’t do the assignments and the homework.
But I’m honest. I try to do my homework. I try to do my assignments, but someone pushes inside my chest cavity. S(he) says, “go and run. Run and jump over the park bench”. Then I run. I get injured a bit but I feel happy that time.
Teacher, when you teach me, my eyes look out of the window pane. My eyes want to look at the
flowers- pink, yellow, purple, white….. wow! They are of so many colors! Even my color box has not so many colors! Then my
heart says, “paint.”, and I want to
paint these flowers on my notebook. I want to fly high in the sky with the birds and with the paint brush in my hand. I want to make the birds more colorful. I want to paint green and maroon patches on the bodies of white cranes. How beautiful will they look!
You all feel proud of M, my elder brother. I want to be like him, sometimes. He is so obedient,isn’t he? I try it hard, but I can’t do this. So, please don’t scold me. Please don’t punish me.
Dad and Mom, I want to be a painter. Please let me do this. Please let me bloom, otherwise I will fade down. Please don’t chop my wings because I have to fly high, upto the infinite. With the birds. But if you don’t let me do so, it’s OK then. I will be still loving you all. I can’t hate you.
Sometimes, life brings sad and gloomy moments for me. My heart sinks in the ocean of despair. My mind stands still with its mouth agape. My limbs turn handicapped. Seems I have nervous disorder. I feel lonely. I feel feel helpless. I try to be an escapist. I snatch my sheet from the bed and cover myself, from head to toe. I search for an abode in my deep slumber. I try hard and usually it avails nothing. I blame God. Why did He arranged such an unbearable condition for me?
AFTER A CONTINUOUS WRESTLING FOR 2 HOURS
Thanks God. You showed some mercy. I’m in deep slumber as I desired.
AFTER TWO AND A HALF HOURS
Am I my body? No, I’m a separate entity. No, I’ve gone insane.Maybe this is called hallucination. My God, I’m flying now! Yes! I’m soaring high in the sky. Like a hawk high in the sky. Like a seagull over the ocean. But where am I going? What’s this? Seems just like that palace I watched recently in a cartoon film. Lo! The door is opening voluntarily. A gush of wind enters behind me and has pushed me inside. My eyes are flashed. I’m unable to see now. Slowly, the light is reducing. I can open my eyes now. What a majestic personality! His beard like silver.
Eyes radiant but as cool as the moonlight. A shining crown on his head. His white rob, whiter than white. I’m scared. I’m to pee in my pyjamas. He opens his mouth. His lips split. He speaks and His voice seems like cool sea breeze.
“You’re scared, aren’t you?”He talks slowly. I couldn’t speak. “I’m your real father. I’m the father of your father and of your grandfather also.I have made this world and you are my sons.” I can’t understand anything. My legs are trembling. “Come here.” He says again. Should I go there or not? I should go otherwise I’m gonna die soon!
AFTER 4 OR 5 MINUTES
I’m sitting in his lap with my head leaning over his chest. How did this happen, I don’t know.
I feel so cozy right now. Never felt such a touch. It’s more soothing than the touch of my sweetheart.
” Why do you fear?” He asks. I’m weak, feeble. I reply back. He folds the sleeves of his robe just over his wrist. “Look inside.” He points toward His wrist. There is a tiny hole on his wrist. My God! It’s so deep, deeper than the Pacific Ocean! The red currents are visible there. It must be His blood for sure, I think. “This is Life Blood.When I create people, I pour my Life Blood in their veins.It aches a lot but I do this so that you can be like me” Like you? I’m left unreplied. ” Yes, you’re not weak.you’re my child nurtured with my Life Blood.You can win every battle because my Life Blood runs into your veins. Don’t be a coward. A father can’t see his son being a coward. Be a warrior. Fight. Struggle. You’ll win. If it’s impossible then I’m a liar. My world is a lie and you’re a lie. Fight my son,fight!” I’m stuck.
A SHORT WHILE AFTER…..
I grope my body in panick. Yes, I’m in my body. The same familier sound echoes in my ears, “fight my son, fight.”
AT 7 A.M. IN THE MORNING
I may stumble. I may even fall down but I’m going to win the race of my life, finally, because I am the God’s Child.