A Depression Story

Part-II: Hobbies, I was never allowed

This part explains some of my early teenage years and contains a lot of bad memories. I do not know how properly I would be able to explain them but I would try my best.

As I did already mention in some previous blogs, I love art and painting a lot. From the age of four, I had developed a deep interest in paintings. I remember one night my mom asked me, a little girl of about 5, what I wish to become when I grow up. Certainly I said “A Painter, mom!!”. The light from her eyes suddenly disappeared. She said with an unhappy voice “Painters do not earn enough”. I was a very small girl and did not have any idea about all kinds of profession but as my mom said so, I couldn’t have said anything over it. But the love for painting stayed there forever. Our family has no doctors. Everyone either is a teacher or an engineer. So they all made up their mind to make me a doctor. My dad ended up putting me in a drawing class just because he wanted me to perfect all those biological diagrams when I grew up and not because I love painting. But slowly they could see the lines on my drawing book getting prettier, something much better than was primarily needed for a biological diagram. My mom said to my dad that I should be sent to some good art school but he refused saying that I was not meant to be an artist, rather a doctor.

I started loving my talent more and more and would try new styles all by myself. My drawings and paintings would be published in the school magazines but I never felt my parents being any happier by that. In class 6, they made me leave my art school and were not very interested in any of my talents. I won the district award in poster making, but I never went to any art school again. Whatever I did was all on me. I was a dancer too. I was admitted to a dancing school just because my parents were too busy and had no time to spend on me. But I loved dancing. I loved it so much that I even fought with my parents for allowing me to do that. They made me leave my dance school in class 9 cause they thought it was interfering with my studies. But I literally could never leave art and dance. I used to take part in school functions without telling my parents for if they get to know, they would never let me do that. I used to lie to them and go for my practice. Dancing made me happy. I smiled, I felt good. The applause, the cheers, everything used to pull me up to the stage, everything used to fill me up with joy and freedom and made me smile. I never had a stage fear.

In class 11, I had to leave my city and get admitted to a new school, coming here made me leave all my hobbies. I did not walk up to stage or hold a paint bush for two long years. I did not find my happiness for two long years. When I used to make a beautiful art, my parents never bothered to see it. I wanted to show them but they were not interested either in my art or my dance. Once in class 9, I won 3 bronze and 3 silver medals on annual sports day. I was too happy to be explained. I happily walked up to my parents, Holding the bunch of medals in my hand and broadly smiling said, “mom dad look what I got!!!”. Disturbing all my happiness and enthusiasm they said, “well, we would have been happier if you achieved all of them in your subjects”.

I just smiled to myself and went away. I do not expect appraisal from them anymore. They were never interested in the talents I have and will never be. But I never want my talents to die. Maybe one day they will be proud of me.