DIARY
28-05-2019
KERALA
KERALA
For those who would have thought about my intentions about starting an open diary for the public, you had got this wrong. I'm here to tell you a story which revolves around the life of a common young man, just like you and the others. All of us have our dreams and most of us get diverged from the path and follow the crowd in sake of a better life that is accepted in the society they live in. I am one of those men who did and now I stand to break the walls. But is it too late for me? I'd always asked this question to myself and if i don't take the decision now, i will definitely be asking the same question tomorrow and that's never going to end. It's never late until your name starts carrying it in prefix, so do it now. This one is My Story and it starts here, the new born and the living.
29-05-2019
KERALA
I'd been living on my past to make a bright future for all my life. Now that I understood that life is something more than that, i expect a lot from myself. First of all, let me introduce myself to you. I'm Nikhil V P, doing just nothing after completing BTech with a bag full of backlogs. I am not ashamed of that because I just know that I didn't fortunately come out of that institution with nothing delivered for my life. It was heaven for me, the bitter parts as much tastier as the fruity ones. That's me, a young aspirant with sky high dreams about life. I'm also an army brat and I'm proud of it. My memories, the life in the army quarters had always given me spirit to look high and my days started there. I remember waking up in my room made of red bricks and greenish blue doors. The bed was made of iron fittings and thick plastic ropes wound tight to give you the right back ache it can deliver, but it was army and it always has a different feeling. I was at Bangalore, the first place I'd ever been to other than my home town. I was nine; enjoying the sounds of the commands and foot stamps, coming from the ground of Para Regiment, from my bed. Schools were still closed for vacation and it was a long summer to enjoy for me and my elder brother. I was new to the city and the nature was too perfect to be explored. It was a small house made of brick-tiles on top from where worms used to shed in the winter, but it was not winter yet. I was in love with the place. Gentlemen in their combat uniforms all over the roads. The beauty were the trees, painted in white and red, planted till the end of the lane on both sides of the road. We could see the army men training in the ground, getting beaten up for their mistakes and thrashed to the ground for being slow. You could see everything, just everything except for your father who goes to duty earlier before u wake and comes back late by evening when the sun is already down.
30-05-2019
KERALA
The whole place was new for me, the language they spoke, the games they played, strangers all around and it was me and my brother who were left alone with our mother, who never left the house. Exploring the place on our legs were the routine in the evening for my brother and myself. We knew that our quarter was at the end of the lane and that seemed quite easy for us to track back. We used to walk daily between the woods, come back and play shuttle, and wait for our father to come home. When we were at our village in Kerala, the only times we got to spend time with him was when he came for the sixty days leave and the end of it was always heartbreaking for me. But now we were with him, at his place, but still never got a chance to spend time with him unless it was a Sunday. And that's the life I'd to live with and definitely could be the soul reason why I'm not much attached to my father since childhood. Everything began there, the terror started bombarding on me and that never stopped. The frustrated life of an Army man had great impact on his family was a lesson I'd learnt then on.
31-05-2019
KERALA
I remember an incident, the one which shook me off my senses for hours and that day I really cried. For the first time in my life, I was seeing a frustrated man charging towards me for no reason at all. Atleast for a boy of my age that incident never made any sense. It was evening and like all other regular days
we had our best time playing outside till dusk and everything was going fine
until then. We washed our faces and legs and wiped our hands clean and prepared for the dinner. We had always waited for our father to accompany us and he used to come at late hours. In those days, late hours for me would mean early, as I was always an early-bed boy. The dinner was ready and our father arrived, a bit cold but i never cared and nor did he ever. I was about to eat and there would never have been a problem if I'd quietly had my dinner and went to bed without uttering a word but how could I let it go? There was a pungent smell in the room and I noticed my dad opening his boots. For a man with loads on his shoulders and commands to obey, frustration was sure to be a part of the family. But how would I know that? And I spoke. The little words came off my mouth and the rest was all a nightmare. Instead of the rice, there was his socks nearly stuffed into my mouth. The day died with me begging with my folded hands, to not to get killed by the torture, that made him come back to his right senses. I never knew until then that begging had such extensive power in real that it could even break the coldest of the ice. Who was to blame? Me? Him? The work? But I cried, and everything began from there. Now, I could see my future more clearly and the happiness I had had already started to blur off in distance.
01-06-2019
KERALA
Things went smooth for a few days more and then months passed by. I was also getting adapted to the environment inside and outside, even joined the school there and the happy news rushed in to us. We were moving to where we should have really been, the place where my father worked. The quarter was available for us now and we shifted. Things were calm, I could sense that in the air I breathed. It was Madras Engineering Group, a place were unity was visible to my eyes. I was enrolled to the school, but the vacation was still not over.
I was encountered by the beast in the last session but everyone has a second face hidden inside them. It was time to reveal that. I remember myself going to school and it was my first day. The Shaktiman truck, sponsored by the Army, used to deliver us to the school and back home. It is a privilege to study in schools recognized for the defense body of our country and I was lucky to be admitted in one of them. We had army trucks and buses to deliver us safely and every vehicle had a number to be identified. Luckily for me, i wasn't aware that the truck that took me to school won't deliver me back. I should have boarded a different truck while returning but got mixed up. Being new to the city, everything felt new, even the language and i didn't understand a single word that the sardar ji had asked me. Being numb and to cry was the only option I was left with and i did without a second thought. It was getting dark and fear had already taken over me. I could see from his eyes that he wanted to help, but neither the sardar made any sense, nor did I. I wished for God to help and there he arrived in his cycle. I heard his voice, his heart pounding and I rushed out of the truck to find the person. My father was there, talking to the sardar. I could literally feel the same fear, I'd felt, in him. I knew my father, he had never failed to come whenever I was lost and that was the true himself I always believe in. I felt safe for the first time that day, in his hands.
When we reached the quarter, the whole neighborhood was there at the door. The family was back together and I was loved that day like never before. There was a lot of things to learn for me and I'm still learning. Human mind is a hard thing to understand and it takes a life to know ourselves. The life is a wave and we have to walk with the flow and things always changes when it comes to studies and bright future our children. It was steep dip for me when the classes begun.
02-06-2019
KERALA
Some parents do really think that their children are gifts of god and they start treating us as if we have the same potential of gods that they believe in. Studies are an important factor and they want their children to top the class and the it makes sense when there are forty students in a class and all of their parents are very much greedy about their children. I never felt myself to be a robot to be keyed and do the function with hundred percent efficiency. let me drive you to another incident.
I was always a brilliant student with a good IQ and mathematics had always been my key subject. The score never matters now as it was just a fourth grade but still I was the topper in the class. My progress card had always marked a full score in that subject and still there was an issue. I'm not judging my parents but they never liked a call letter from the school. This time that came real and conclusions were pre-judged. There was nothing more to say and the day ended with me lying at a corner of the bed with marks of his belt all over me. The red scars and burns that'd made can never be forgotten. Even the dinner was prohibited for the night. That's what army brats gets as training to be disciplined.
The next morning my father accompanied me to school and there was a brief conversation between my father and my mathematics teacher and I was standing beside him and he sat on the chair in-front of her. The only flaw that she'd pointed was myself being non attentive to the lectures and making my notes instead of hearing her. What else would I do? Was that really a mistake I'd done to be punished? Anyways, it is life and it has its own ups and downs and I had to live with it.
03-06-2019
KERALA
It takes a lot of falls to learn cycling, the one who dares to stand again and push the pedals learns faster and better. Steeps could help you balance and get pace but the same steep can make your fall remembered for long. It was my brother who taught me to ride and fortunately there were a lot of falls to count. I even remember the oldest friend who had always pushed me to my potentials. She always has a separate place in my heart.
It was an incident I remember. Independence were cloudy in those days for me. Every mischief to be done were limited to a timezone where my father goes to duty to when he comes back home, because studies mattered to him. Still cycling was an important part of life as motorcycles were only seen parked in bungalows only. Like all other days, I took the cycle and went out to ride and I was just a beginner who takes a lot of falls at that time. How can one really rise if he never falls, so I'd always fell. The difference this time was that my brother did not accompany me and I went alone to ride the steep which led to the Garrison MES gates at the end of the road. It wasn't the brakes that failed but it was me. The speed came to life and drove me right into the gates and it was a hard hit for me. But that was never my concern when there was a lot to explain about the cycle that my father had owned. For a father who could turn magically evil and turn into an angel in a blink of an eye was really torturing my brain. I forgot about the blood flowing down my knees and elbow to the tension. It was time to head back home and to face the judgement.
What happened next was I saw my father who took me on his hands and applied the medicines and helped me with a dozen of encouraging words to build up my confidence. The pain were gone and the cycle was not his first preference as I had believed for a minute. Love is a mystical thing that drains anything dark off your heart. The ray of hope was still there. I learnt to ride in a few days and the fall always make you rise higher, I believed then and I believe now.
04-06-2019
KERALA
Life has a strange flow. Not everything you love can be successfully achieved and not everything you achieve might not be the things that you really love. Bangalore days were over in three years and it was time for us to shift to Kanchrapara, a place in West Bengal where my father was posted to. Shifting was the hard part. It wasn't just the home that you had to leave but there were a lot more. The friendships you had gained in those years, the smell of the air, the roads you had traveled, the guys you had played with in your leisure and a lot more for an eleven year old to take.
05-06-2019
KERALA
Kanchrapara is where I'd spend the most important segments of my life. It was the time when I'd started to grow my consciousness. Being away from Bangalore made me miss a lot of things, but I don't remember when I'd started missing a person. That should have never been a part of my story but it did happen. I'd never felt anything like that when we were together but the same fact was haunting me now. No! I didn't even know what love felt like at that age, but I was missing her then. She was the closest to me from the beginning till the end. But the depression that caused me became a memory in a few weeks.
The place had a lot of grounds to play and unlike Bangalore days I'd a lot of independence then. I was admitted to Kendriya Vidyalaya for my succeeding grade and it was all a happy climate. Friendships had a better understanding, I was learning the world around me and that had the negatives as well as the positives along. Even the elder guys from school were close enough and had a great impact in the turning points of my life.
Torture from my father was a never ending exercise and I was already adapted to it by then. But it was time that I'd changed and I really did. Life was different then. Evenings were given for the sports but football was the most likable one to the East Indians and it was hard for me to digest that I was a noob. Friends came along and that was all I'd cared for. Having a day out had also became frequent. It was all good until I started lying, I stole money form my own house.
29-05-2019
KERALA
I'd been living on my past to make a bright future for all my life. Now that I understood that life is something more than that, i expect a lot from myself. First of all, let me introduce myself to you. I'm Nikhil V P, doing just nothing after completing BTech with a bag full of backlogs. I am not ashamed of that because I just know that I didn't fortunately come out of that institution with nothing delivered for my life. It was heaven for me, the bitter parts as much tastier as the fruity ones. That's me, a young aspirant with sky high dreams about life. I'm also an army brat and I'm proud of it. My memories, the life in the army quarters had always given me spirit to look high and my days started there. I remember waking up in my room made of red bricks and greenish blue doors. The bed was made of iron fittings and thick plastic ropes wound tight to give you the right back ache it can deliver, but it was army and it always has a different feeling. I was at Bangalore, the first place I'd ever been to other than my home town. I was nine; enjoying the sounds of the commands and foot stamps, coming from the ground of Para Regiment, from my bed. Schools were still closed for vacation and it was a long summer to enjoy for me and my elder brother. I was new to the city and the nature was too perfect to be explored. It was a small house made of brick-tiles on top from where worms used to shed in the winter, but it was not winter yet. I was in love with the place. Gentlemen in their combat uniforms all over the roads. The beauty were the trees, painted in white and red, planted till the end of the lane on both sides of the road. We could see the army men training in the ground, getting beaten up for their mistakes and thrashed to the ground for being slow. You could see everything, just everything except for your father who goes to duty earlier before u wake and comes back late by evening when the sun is already down.
30-05-2019
KERALA
The whole place was new for me, the language they spoke, the games they played, strangers all around and it was me and my brother who were left alone with our mother, who never left the house. Exploring the place on our legs were the routine in the evening for my brother and myself. We knew that our quarter was at the end of the lane and that seemed quite easy for us to track back. We used to walk daily between the woods, come back and play shuttle, and wait for our father to come home. When we were at our village in Kerala, the only times we got to spend time with him was when he came for the sixty days leave and the end of it was always heartbreaking for me. But now we were with him, at his place, but still never got a chance to spend time with him unless it was a Sunday. And that's the life I'd to live with and definitely could be the soul reason why I'm not much attached to my father since childhood. Everything began there, the terror started bombarding on me and that never stopped. The frustrated life of an Army man had great impact on his family was a lesson I'd learnt then on.
31-05-2019
KERALA
I remember an incident, the one which shook me off my senses for hours and that day I really cried. For the first time in my life, I was seeing a frustrated man charging towards me for no reason at all. Atleast for a boy of my age that incident never made any sense. It was evening and like all other regular days we had our best time playing outside till dusk and everything was going fine until then. We washed our faces and legs and wiped our hands clean and prepared for the dinner. We had always waited for our father to accompany us and he used to come at late hours. In those days, late hours for me would mean early, as I was always an early-bed boy. The dinner was ready and our father arrived, a bit cold but i never cared and nor did he ever. I was about to eat and there would never have been a problem if I'd quietly had my dinner and went to bed without uttering a word but how could I let it go? There was a pungent smell in the room and I noticed my dad opening his boots. For a man with loads on his shoulders and commands to obey, frustration was sure to be a part of the family. But how would I know that? And I spoke. The little words came off my mouth and the rest was all a nightmare. Instead of the rice, there was his socks nearly stuffed into my mouth. The day died with me begging with my folded hands, to not to get killed by the torture, that made him come back to his right senses. I never knew until then that begging had such extensive power in real that it could even break the coldest of the ice. Who was to blame? Me? Him? The work? But I cried, and everything began from there. Now, I could see my future more clearly and the happiness I had had already started to blur off in distance.
01-06-2019
KERALA
Things went smooth for a few days more and then months passed by. I was also getting adapted to the environment inside and outside, even joined the school there and the happy news rushed in to us. We were moving to where we should have really been, the place where my father worked. The quarter was available for us now and we shifted. Things were calm, I could sense that in the air I breathed. It was Madras Engineering Group, a place were unity was visible to my eyes. I was enrolled to the school, but the vacation was still not over.
I was encountered by the beast in the last session but everyone has a second face hidden inside them. It was time to reveal that. I remember myself going to school and it was my first day. The Shaktiman truck, sponsored by the Army, used to deliver us to the school and back home. It is a privilege to study in schools recognized for the defense body of our country and I was lucky to be admitted in one of them. We had army trucks and buses to deliver us safely and every vehicle had a number to be identified. Luckily for me, i wasn't aware that the truck that took me to school won't deliver me back. I should have boarded a different truck while returning but got mixed up. Being new to the city, everything felt new, even the language and i didn't understand a single word that the sardar ji had asked me. Being numb and to cry was the only option I was left with and i did without a second thought. It was getting dark and fear had already taken over me. I could see from his eyes that he wanted to help, but neither the sardar made any sense, nor did I. I wished for God to help and there he arrived in his cycle. I heard his voice, his heart pounding and I rushed out of the truck to find the person. My father was there, talking to the sardar. I could literally feel the same fear, I'd felt, in him. I knew my father, he had never failed to come whenever I was lost and that was the true himself I always believe in. I felt safe for the first time that day, in his hands.
When we reached the quarter, the whole neighborhood was there at the door. The family was back together and I was loved that day like never before. There was a lot of things to learn for me and I'm still learning. Human mind is a hard thing to understand and it takes a life to know ourselves. The life is a wave and we have to walk with the flow and things always changes when it comes to studies and bright future our children. It was steep dip for me when the classes begun.
02-06-2019
KERALA
Some parents do really think that their children are gifts of god and they start treating us as if we have the same potential of gods that they believe in. Studies are an important factor and they want their children to top the class and the it makes sense when there are forty students in a class and all of their parents are very much greedy about their children. I never felt myself to be a robot to be keyed and do the function with hundred percent efficiency. let me drive you to another incident.
I was always a brilliant student with a good IQ and mathematics had always been my key subject. The score never matters now as it was just a fourth grade but still I was the topper in the class. My progress card had always marked a full score in that subject and still there was an issue. I'm not judging my parents but they never liked a call letter from the school. This time that came real and conclusions were pre-judged. There was nothing more to say and the day ended with me lying at a corner of the bed with marks of his belt all over me. The red scars and burns that'd made can never be forgotten. Even the dinner was prohibited for the night. That's what army brats gets as training to be disciplined.
The next morning my father accompanied me to school and there was a brief conversation between my father and my mathematics teacher and I was standing beside him and he sat on the chair in-front of her. The only flaw that she'd pointed was myself being non attentive to the lectures and making my notes instead of hearing her. What else would I do? Was that really a mistake I'd done to be punished? Anyways, it is life and it has its own ups and downs and I had to live with it.
03-06-2019
KERALA
It takes a lot of falls to learn cycling, the one who dares to stand again and push the pedals learns faster and better. Steeps could help you balance and get pace but the same steep can make your fall remembered for long. It was my brother who taught me to ride and fortunately there were a lot of falls to count. I even remember the oldest friend who had always pushed me to my potentials. She always has a separate place in my heart.
It was an incident I remember. Independence were cloudy in those days for me. Every mischief to be done were limited to a timezone where my father goes to duty to when he comes back home, because studies mattered to him. Still cycling was an important part of life as motorcycles were only seen parked in bungalows only. Like all other days, I took the cycle and went out to ride and I was just a beginner who takes a lot of falls at that time. How can one really rise if he never falls, so I'd always fell. The difference this time was that my brother did not accompany me and I went alone to ride the steep which led to the Garrison MES gates at the end of the road. It wasn't the brakes that failed but it was me. The speed came to life and drove me right into the gates and it was a hard hit for me. But that was never my concern when there was a lot to explain about the cycle that my father had owned. For a father who could turn magically evil and turn into an angel in a blink of an eye was really torturing my brain. I forgot about the blood flowing down my knees and elbow to the tension. It was time to head back home and to face the judgement.
What happened next was I saw my father who took me on his hands and applied the medicines and helped me with a dozen of encouraging words to build up my confidence. The pain were gone and the cycle was not his first preference as I had believed for a minute. Love is a mystical thing that drains anything dark off your heart. The ray of hope was still there. I learnt to ride in a few days and the fall always make you rise higher, I believed then and I believe now.
04-06-2019
KERALA
Life has a strange flow. Not everything you love can be successfully achieved and not everything you achieve might not be the things that you really love. Bangalore days were over in three years and it was time for us to shift to Kanchrapara, a place in West Bengal where my father was posted to. Shifting was the hard part. It wasn't just the home that you had to leave but there were a lot more. The friendships you had gained in those years, the smell of the air, the roads you had traveled, the guys you had played with in your leisure and a lot more for an eleven year old to take.
05-06-2019
KERALA
Kanchrapara is where I'd spend the most important segments of my life. It was the time when I'd started to grow my consciousness. Being away from Bangalore made me miss a lot of things, but I don't remember when I'd started missing a person. That should have never been a part of my story but it did happen. I'd never felt anything like that when we were together but the same fact was haunting me now. No! I didn't even know what love felt like at that age, but I was missing her then. She was the closest to me from the beginning till the end. But the depression that caused me became a memory in a few weeks.
The place had a lot of grounds to play and unlike Bangalore days I'd a lot of independence then. I was admitted to Kendriya Vidyalaya for my succeeding grade and it was all a happy climate. Friendships had a better understanding, I was learning the world around me and that had the negatives as well as the positives along. Even the elder guys from school were close enough and had a great impact in the turning points of my life.
Torture from my father was a never ending exercise and I was already adapted to it by then. But it was time that I'd changed and I really did. Life was different then. Evenings were given for the sports but football was the most likable one to the East Indians and it was hard for me to digest that I was a noob. Friends came along and that was all I'd cared for. Having a day out had also became frequent. It was all good until I started lying, I stole money form my own house.
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