Requiem for a Dream

Requiem for a Dream

July 28, 2018

 

I was born by myself but carry the spirit and blood of my father, mother and my ancestors. So I am never really alone. My identity is through that line. I have a huge influence of my father and my grandfather all along on my life.

Being the granddaughter of an ex-army captain, I grew up idolizing my grandfather and his army uniform. I always eulogize his virtues and detail his public services at great length. Since childhood, he used to tell me stories of war and the heroes that put their life on the line, just to deliver the call of duty and liberate the weak. Those stories prompted me to hold those men in high regards, and as a child, it was my utmost desire to join ranks with these godly men some day and feel the frenzy, for real. I always envisaged being an Airforce pilot. Just the impression of flying  the most advanced aircrafts in the world to defend my country, gliding at the speed of sound, while pushing each aircraft’s limits with complete control. Now, that was something I wanted to do when I was a child.

I used to engage in sports, unlike my elder sister, so my family was almost certain that I will be able to get through.

At times, my grandmother used to say that they won't seek me to get married. Once I grew up, they will help me get into air force. I'll carry short hair, suit in the air force uniform, and deploy around the world to wherever they’ll need fighters, trainers, bombers, advisers and more, just like my Grandfather.


I used to love the thought of it, but as they say, Life is a shipwreck of your expectations.

 

The day I was diagnosed, changed everything. I still remember, sitting in a dark corner of my room, bursting in tears, crying my heart, wanting to get it all out. I still look back, and find the tears that escaped my eyes that night, were the worst kind happened to me ever, my soul wept and no matter what I did, there was no way to comfort it. I could feel my dreams withered and turning into a scar on the part of my soul that survived. For people like me, our souls contains more scar tissue than life.

 

A part of me wanted to feel, that there was still hope, that it might not matter much, that it will still be alright. I wanted to tug to that thought, so viciously, and it consoled me that night.

As I grew up, reality gradually started settling in. I realized that fate had decreed defeat for me in the game. I silently nodded in agreement to the idea, of giving up on my dream.

I realized, being a diabetic makes you medically unfit for being enrolled in armed services, let alone air force.

 

It felt ludicrous, at the start but then it turned into acceptance. Guess enough time lets you heal though any damage, or just makes the pain bearable. I realized it wasn't the end of the world.

When I finished my year 10, I decided that I want to fix broken hearts, for a living. I wanted to pursue medical field as a career. I wanted to be a cardiologist.

 

When I told my parents about it, my father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give to another person, he believed in me.He said " If that's what you want, I'll make sure you get the best education."

 

Till this day, I cannot think of any need in my childhood as strong as the need of my parents support and protection. Only a few days later, he found out about a boarding school in Shimla, and I was ecstatic, when he told me about it.

 

Auckland House School was a prominent establishment, famous for its high acclaimed education standards. A lot of international transfer students come there to study. We visited the school, before my board results were declared. When we talked to the principal, she told father that they will only consider extending me an admission in medical stream, if I score more than 7 CGPA in my exams, with more than 8 in science or else, the chances of getting an admission were next to none.

My dad looked at me. I looked back at him. I was confident.​

 

So there we were, in the school lobby filling out the admission forms. Ofcourse, they charged a hefty amount for it, but I think for my father, nothing mattered more than providing his children, with good education. For him, it was always worth seeing the shine in my eyes.

 

The results were out. I scored 8.8 CGPA and above 9 in my science exam. Father was overwhelmed, by the sense of finally something good happening in my life. We visited the school again, to finish the admission process.

During the conversation,father discussed my condition with the principal. Suddenly, I could notice the drastic change in her behaviour. With a straight face, she said she will have to think about it, and will let us know.

 

Weeks passed by. We didn't hear back from them, that's when father decided to pay them a visit. He took me along, and one of his best friends accompanied us.

As we sat in the principal's office, father asked her about my admission. After talking around in circles, she finally said, "I cannot allow your daughter, to study in my school. She is a diabetic and we do not wish to take responsibility of a sick child."

 

For a moment, I was cemented. My fingers were stiff, but so was my will. The way she said it, made me feel pathetic about my existence. I looked at father. He looked perplexed. For the first time in my life, I witnessed my father, being so taken aback and hurt. I turned my gaze to my feet, not wanting to look at the sight of my father, pleading. He requested her to change her mind and let me study, to which she grew more adamant.


Finally, when I had enough of her foolhardy behaviour, I stood up and

told that woman, I did not wish to study in her school and we left her office. 

 

The journey, back to home felt like never-ending. I played her words, over and over in my head again, trying to find my fault in the whole situation.I pursued medical field from a local school, and completed year 11 and 12. After finishing my year 12, I moved to a bigger city to take coaching lessons for entrance exams for MBBS degree but I couldn't crack the entrance exams.

 

My father decided to send me to Australia so that I can have better medical treatment options and also, I can study medicine. In Jan 2013, I moved to Australia leaving my home behind.

I was still determined to be a cardiologist, but not too later in April 2013, I got to know about my kidneys and a whole lot of complimentary complications, as I like to call them. I had to finally give in to the idea of being a cardiologist,as I won't be eligible for a surgery license, given my, lackluster medical records.

I decided, I will pursue forensic sciences and work as a crime scene investigator with the Australian Police. I guess my love for being in a uniform have never died.

 


Just because all of the stars are fading away,try not to worry, you'll see them someday. Take what you need, and be on your way. Stop crying your heart out and keep alive the hope. It'll all make sense, someday..

 

 

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