...the hopes and despair
seeds of independence...
To me this would remain an enigma, where she derived this mental freedom from - to question and go beyond her experiences. It was not just the anger, a rebellion, a reaction against her psycho-social milieu. It was a capacity to rise above, in a bid to follow a destiny of her own making...
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Today is another blackout day for me, as were so many before this. For three whole months I have been doing all kinds of housework without a complaint, and now I am fed up of it all. After working all day at cooking or washing, or even ironing etc., you come to realise the futility of life. There seems to be no higher goals to be attained, the chief aim being just to eat and sleep. I am so tired that I don’t even brush my hair. Sometimes I yearn to go out, but always alone. Mum has often offered to go out with me to any place I like, but I have always refused. She becomes furious and she can’t understand why I refuse. It is only that I want to go out alone. I know that being alone doesn’t do me any good, but people are horrid. Books are much better, so are dogs.
Yester-eve I wept a bit because of the terrible loneliness I was feeling. All the males in the house keep out for at least ten hours a day, and just come in to eat and sleep. Only Mum and I keep in all the day, and all the weary evenings.
"Sometimes I just feel like walking away - for miles. But nobody seems to understand me. And of course I can’t go out alone. Why the hell didn’t they let me get out when I was 10? I must have been bolder than any other girl. But they will simply go on trying to crush me impulses and channelising my thoughts according to their tunes.
But I refuse to be crushed so easily. I’d sooner die than leave my ideals. And some day I’ll rise to a position where no one will ever be able to criticise me for walking out alone and then I’ll walk for miles - everyday...
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I wonder really now if one short life span of a person should be the experimenting ground for others or for herself. For instance, my idea of streching my life till 50 or 60, and not anymore. Does it allow for experimenting within it? Twenty years have already passed, and 30 or 40 more to go. Does it mean that I should bow to everyone’s wishes? When does the time come to do just as you want? You study in schools to which your parents sent you, you choose friends as your parents decide, you marry the person your parents find for you?! Where does you own will go?
It could be much better if children were never taught to think for themselves. Till how long will my parents choose and pick for me? My clothes, my friends, the places I visit?!! I absolutely rebel within myself at this thought, and now I am taking certain cautious but firm steps to attain my freedom. I spent the night of 6th this month in HZ’s room in the hostel. I had been firm about it, and told Papa that I wanted to. he gave in ungraciously - and Amma was of course very deeply hurt. She felt as if I was deliberately trying to break away...
...If only I could get a decent job. I will be spared of all this...
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...I’ve decided one thing finally - that is t begin doing my research on “amputees and paraplegics” - I’ll have the topic decided within this month. It will give me for one thing - my freedom - and another - the leisure to decide about my career...
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After MA I, I had read a few dirty book like Valley of Dools, The Arrangement, My God Died Young, Mea Culpa, etc. - all given by MS. I suffered them through because he had said they were nice. Then I read To Beg I am Ashamed by Shiela Cousins. I’ve read several others now. I didn’t really like any. But I know now that I have gained a lot from each of them. Now I understand better all human psychology and am able to take in stride what I first found humiliating, without any change in my morals. I have more confidence in myself and small hints are clearer than before. Perhaps there is still more to know, but whatever I know now is enough to steer me through my life... Why couldn’t have I known all this earlier! But probably all is for the best.
{the bundle of raw nerves} (a world she felt responsible for} {her prison}
{the inexplicable fears} {her self-doubts} {her resentments}
{the inner life}
{the flapping of wings} {the cold as steel in her}
{depth of insights and feelings} {her romantic self} {the seeds to unfold} {the hurts and pain}
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