Betrayals & Sacrifices :
Update 4- A Short Look-back
I don't know what was the family environment when my family used to be the Jamindaar Family. Because I never grew up in a big house full of servants. In my early years, as I started to understand my surroundings, we lived in a small house. My father used to work all day in the rice fields that I am sure owned by some other farmer. During the off seasons he used to do various other manual jobs. He could do almost any work with his hands. Although he was mainly a farmer but everyone talked with so much respect to him.It was unusual as how a mere farmer who doesn't have his own land to cultivate gets so much respect where ever he goes. There was rarely anyone around the village that my father has not helped in some point of time. I was confused as why we lived so poorly in a shabby hut when we had relatives in the Jamindaar Family from the next village? Why my father was not living with his parents and siblings. Why all the kids my age have only one mother but I had two?
Mahendra Lal Das was the son of Jamindaar Jatindra Lal Das, and he was my father. The middle name Lal seemed very lame to me so I just scrapped it in my S.S.C. registration. My mother Mrs. Supriya Rani Das was unable to get pregnant after so many years of the marriage.After the sixth year, my father was forced by the whole family and even my mom to get married for the 2nd time to my step mom Mishty Rani Das. My grandparents and uncles used to insult and treat my mother very badly around the house. What a irony it was when my mom got pregnant at the third month of my father's 2nd marriage. My father wanted to get out of the venomous environment of the Jamindaar household and start a fresh life. He along with his two wives and a unborn son moved out of the Jamindaar house to the next village. My father had no interest in any of my grandfather's money or property. He vowed to provide for his family with his own hard work. My father was religious. He was a follower of lord Krishna and Mahabharat. So he named me Arjun after the best archer of the Mahabharat ARJUN, Son of Pandu & Kunti. I was born 8 months after he moved to the new village.
After my birth, our little family was full of fun & happiness. But my father wanted more. He wanted to provide a better life for his family. While working extra hard in the village he somehow managed to save some money to start a small business. With some help from one of his childhood friend and cousin he went to Chattagram City, (the Commercial Capital of Bangladesh) and started a small tea stall. With a lot of effort and hard work his profit in the stall started to increase gradually. During this time he used to visit us in the village once every week. Two years later he took all of us to the city to live with him. I was six years old then. The tinshed semi finished 2 rooms house was rented to us by Razia's father Md. Yousuf .,.
My father enrolled me in the nearby college. I met Razia there and later learned that she was our houseowner's daughter. Both of us instantly became friends and visit each others house regularly. Even when I was a kid I excelled in games and sports. Later down the years I started to love boxing and weight lifting.
It was happy few years for our family. Then there is always some darkness after sunshine. It was 8 years after my birth, my stepmom Mishty died while giving birth to my twin brothers Nokul & Sahadev. ( My youngest brother thought that his name sounded ancient, so he insisted that he is called Dev and we had to accept that). Although she was my stepmom, I was always pampered by her. My mom was the strict one with me, so if I wanted anything special I used to go to my Mishty Maa( Sweet Mother). Me and my father were very sad at her death. But it was my mother who was devastated most at her death. Over time the two of them became like sisters. My mother mourned her death like someone has killed her own sister. My mother could not grasp the idea of losing her sister, her friend at the age of only 27. My mom took Nokul & Dev as her own and we never felt that any of us was step. We three brothers were as close as they come. My brothers always came to me with any of their problems. They respected and loved me. They are very sweet kids. But if anyone says anything bad about me, they would see a very different side of my brothers. Amd for me, I was their big brother. It was my duty to look after them. I was always there for them. I would not have hesitated to take a bullet or two for them. I loved them.
Maybe that's why it is so much difficult for me now. I feel like totally betrayed by the people I love. Because I expected only love from them, if hurts much more deeply now. I feel like a part of me is dieing when I am trying to hate them.
Ok, man... Enough wimping. I have to be strong now. I have to be smart. And most of all I have to think of my wellbeing for the first time in quite a long time.
Update 4- A Short Look-back
I don't know what was the family environment when my family used to be the Jamindaar Family. Because I never grew up in a big house full of servants. In my early years, as I started to understand my surroundings, we lived in a small house. My father used to work all day in the rice fields that I am sure owned by some other farmer. During the off seasons he used to do various other manual jobs. He could do almost any work with his hands. Although he was mainly a farmer but everyone talked with so much respect to him.It was unusual as how a mere farmer who doesn't have his own land to cultivate gets so much respect where ever he goes. There was rarely anyone around the village that my father has not helped in some point of time. I was confused as why we lived so poorly in a shabby hut when we had relatives in the Jamindaar Family from the next village? Why my father was not living with his parents and siblings. Why all the kids my age have only one mother but I had two?
Mahendra Lal Das was the son of Jamindaar Jatindra Lal Das, and he was my father. The middle name Lal seemed very lame to me so I just scrapped it in my S.S.C. registration. My mother Mrs. Supriya Rani Das was unable to get pregnant after so many years of the marriage.After the sixth year, my father was forced by the whole family and even my mom to get married for the 2nd time to my step mom Mishty Rani Das. My grandparents and uncles used to insult and treat my mother very badly around the house. What a irony it was when my mom got pregnant at the third month of my father's 2nd marriage. My father wanted to get out of the venomous environment of the Jamindaar household and start a fresh life. He along with his two wives and a unborn son moved out of the Jamindaar house to the next village. My father had no interest in any of my grandfather's money or property. He vowed to provide for his family with his own hard work. My father was religious. He was a follower of lord Krishna and Mahabharat. So he named me Arjun after the best archer of the Mahabharat ARJUN, Son of Pandu & Kunti. I was born 8 months after he moved to the new village.
After my birth, our little family was full of fun & happiness. But my father wanted more. He wanted to provide a better life for his family. While working extra hard in the village he somehow managed to save some money to start a small business. With some help from one of his childhood friend and cousin he went to Chattagram City, (the Commercial Capital of Bangladesh) and started a small tea stall. With a lot of effort and hard work his profit in the stall started to increase gradually. During this time he used to visit us in the village once every week. Two years later he took all of us to the city to live with him. I was six years old then. The tinshed semi finished 2 rooms house was rented to us by Razia's father Md. Yousuf .,.
My father enrolled me in the nearby college. I met Razia there and later learned that she was our houseowner's daughter. Both of us instantly became friends and visit each others house regularly. Even when I was a kid I excelled in games and sports. Later down the years I started to love boxing and weight lifting.
It was happy few years for our family. Then there is always some darkness after sunshine. It was 8 years after my birth, my stepmom Mishty died while giving birth to my twin brothers Nokul & Sahadev. ( My youngest brother thought that his name sounded ancient, so he insisted that he is called Dev and we had to accept that). Although she was my stepmom, I was always pampered by her. My mom was the strict one with me, so if I wanted anything special I used to go to my Mishty Maa( Sweet Mother). Me and my father were very sad at her death. But it was my mother who was devastated most at her death. Over time the two of them became like sisters. My mother mourned her death like someone has killed her own sister. My mother could not grasp the idea of losing her sister, her friend at the age of only 27. My mom took Nokul & Dev as her own and we never felt that any of us was step. We three brothers were as close as they come. My brothers always came to me with any of their problems. They respected and loved me. They are very sweet kids. But if anyone says anything bad about me, they would see a very different side of my brothers. Amd for me, I was their big brother. It was my duty to look after them. I was always there for them. I would not have hesitated to take a bullet or two for them. I loved them.
Maybe that's why it is so much difficult for me now. I feel like totally betrayed by the people I love. Because I expected only love from them, if hurts much more deeply now. I feel like a part of me is dieing when I am trying to hate them.
Ok, man... Enough wimping. I have to be strong now. I have to be smart. And most of all I have to think of my wellbeing for the first time in quite a long time.
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