Preamble: For the Blogchatter's A2Z challenge during the month of April 2024, I am writing mini stories on various subjects and characters on each day of the month except on Sundays. The name of the protagonist shall begin with the alphabet assigned for the day.
Hello folks this is me Vishwas! Remember me in that story starting with the alphabet 'Q' ? (Read Here) In our world here, there was a lot of discussion that a story has been written on my wife and that the author had even referred to her by her college nickname of the 'Queen'. I do not resent any of that. She was a noble soul and deserved being portrayed in a positive light. I do not even resent the fact that I came out as a negative character in the story. But, it is necessary to know how things unfolded- what happened in my life too. I got in touch with the author and he has graciously permitted me to tell my story in my own words and style. So here goes...
When I was born in the year 1936, not only were my parents but the entire extended family were overjoyed. I was the first boy in my generation; all the siblings on my father's and mother's side having given birth to girls . I am told that there was a grand celebration in my grandfather's house in the ancestral village. Growing up, I moved and lived in many places as my father was an officer in the police force of the princely state of Mysore and later the state of Karnataka after India's independence on the officers being absorbed into the Indian Police Service.
My father was always busy and had little time to spend with me as his work commitments stretched beyond the normal working hours of a civil servant. My mother not only made up for it but in a way spoiled me. She would give me anything I wanted; be it food or toys. I only had to ask for it. By the teen years I had started getting into bad company of boys who were into smoking and drinking. This was nothing short of blasphemy in the 50s. But my mother covered up for me and never let anything negative reach my father's ears.
Another factor that helped me was that being a rolling stone, moving periodically from one place to another on dad's transfer, there were no relatives around to keep tabs on me or admonish me. On the rare occasion that I met them there was only love and 'awe' for me being the son of a police officer. In 1960 , when I got my job in a large factory at the age of 24, I was already into regular abuse of alcohol. The only difference was that I now did not need to depend on mother for money. I lived in style, spending most of my earnings drinking with friends and playing cards at the local officer's club.
The rest of what happened is detailed in the "Queen story" (Read here) . My slide was seemingly gradual yet, sure and swift. I was unfit to take care of my wife and children. There was just enough money to drink with things getting desperate towards the end of each month. I began to get into acts of corruption. In the last stages, I lost all shame and asked money from employees or junior officers who came to my official chamber.
I do not know how much my wife Preeti and daughter Lavanya hated me. But one thing was clear. They wanted to keep me as far away from them as possible. Lavanya's wedding was the darkest day of my life when it should have been happiest for the bride's father. I was totally ignored by everyone be it family or the guests and I had to run away once again to the comfort of the 'cursed' bottle.
The bottle that gave me pleasure in adolescence and youth, gifted me cirrhosis of the liver in middle age. Doctors advised me to stop drinking knowing fully well that I had become incapable of following their instructions.
I wanted to tell my story as well, not to put focus on myself but to serve as a deterrent to the youngsters who today have so many more substances of abuse to choose from. Do you want to be another me or a happy, accomplished, professional and family person? The choice is yours!
NB: This post is a part of challenge #BlogchatterA2Z
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