Understanding My Father - Part IV

The Plot To Kill Me 

~ A New Level to My Father’s Sadistic Acts

Having read through the previous parts on “understanding my father”, you would have come to understand various psychological findings that have stayed hidden in my father over the years and how they have manifested into absolute hatred for my living being. In this part I am going to narrate an incident that wrecked havoc in our lives….and as always thanks to my father for not only hurting me emotionally but also physically.

If you are wondering if a person is capable of hurting his own son physically, then lay your question to rest since I shall be your living proof. Since I was a small kid my father has not only hurt me emotionally, but also physically. Such physical abuse took place with a belt at most times, his rugged handed hand at sometimes and whatever else the hand could throw…few times. All of this was done with the justification “he who spares the rod, hates his son”, quite twisted a verse from The Book of Proverbs in The Holy Bible!

Thinking in retrospect I really wonder if there had been a single night when I did not shudder in my bed when the clock announced the time of my father’s arrival. I also wonder if I ever had waited happily to jump on my father with glee and receive him home.

All that I remember is forcing myself to sleep early or at least pretend to be asleep so that I would not have to cross his path, for even my shadow gave my father infinite reasons to wield the belt, stick or just the rugged water-buffalo palms to leave many marks on my over-sensitive skin. Such marks were well covered cuz all the thrashings were on my upper back, hence being conveniently covered the next day underneath my clothes.

Wow, never felt that just thinking about all that happened in the past could possibly give me the shudders again! Either ways, such physical abuse continued unquestioned cuz my “father” was stronger than everyone else in the family and such “not-sparing-the-rod” act was perfectly accepted in our society and most importantly by his sibling. However, thinking in retrospect, there were times even his siblings were scared that my father’s thrashings could put an end to my life, hence they intervened which brought about an even stronger wrath of my father.

Such abuse reached its pinnacle when I entered college. My father had and still is having an affair with a girl, whose father died in our house…enter the underage girl who wrecks havoc in my family (hitherto, referred as the bitch). This bitch's had been an epitome of love, honesty and fidelity whilst his daughters could not be seen under the same light. We were under the impression that my father was actually providing for them monetarily since their father died in our house and that such an act was out of guilt and a sense of responsibility towards those girls.

Least did we know that my father was actually grooming the bitch to become his “ho, ho, ho”. She was 15 when this affair started and I was 21. Neither mom nor I had any inkling about this clandestine affair, however people in the neighborhood and the church started talking, thus we heard about it. As you could have guessed by now, my father created hell at home when his shit hit the fan. His verbal and physical abuse got a lot worse (if such a level could have existed).

One fine day, my mom instigated me to confront the bitch and end their shameful relationship. We went to her house, confronted her and the bitch actually had the gall to say that she was having an affair with my father and she asked “what can you possibly do about it?” When this happened, the bitch was actually 16. During the confrontation, my father turned up at her house (possibly a booty call), came across the two of us and created more hell for both of us.

Few days later when things started going absolutely overboard at home, I told my father that I would go to the police about his affair with an underage girl, which slightly shook him up. There was li’l bit of peace after that. Least did we know that the surprising calm could actually lead to a tornado!

Here is the tornado!

During September 2005, I was travelling to work on a cute little moped. My shift started at 2:00 hours so I had to leave the house at 00:00 hours to get to a common pickup point, which was 10 kms from the house and take a cab at 00:30. One day (after the confrontation episode) I took my usual route cuz I didn’t suspect anything. On the way I was stopped by a stranger who wanted a lift till the bus depot. While the stranger was asking me for the lift, three more men appeared from behind the bushes (quite a deserted area and has no public transportation past 22:00 hours) , took away my cell phone, wallet, my moped’s keys, my gold ornaments and started beating me with everything they could possibly find.

One man kept dialing my mom’s cell phone number at that hour and kept disconnecting. Mom panicked and called back. The man who had my phone answered the call but didn’t speak to her, rather he let her listen to all that was happening. Thankfully my mom had the presence of mind to call people from our church and sent them in search of me. By the time my cavalry could come, these strangers were done beating me up. They returned all that belonged to me, including the gold, looked at me and said “don’t ever mess with your father again” and left in a tuk-tuk that was hidden behind the bushes.

I was bleeding all over when they were done with me but I still had the strength to try and start my moped. Well, even my moped had a grudge against me I suppose that it just won’t start. I missed my cab to work, was bleeding all over hence parked my ass on the side-walk since I didn’t know what else to do. Then came the cavalry sent by my mom, but t’was all too late. If you were wondering where my father was when all of this happened” well, he was conveniently “out of town” so the blame won’t stick.

This led me to quitting my job, since I was tattered both physically and mentally, made me contemplate suicide for long, on figuring out that I did not have the courage to kill myself, I found another job and left the house under the pretext of distance. Many relatives had a lot of things to say but I wanted to live and I could survive only if I left the house.

After almost eight years of “living my life” I am now living at my parents’. Why? Cuz, I have a li’l brother and I don’t want my father wasting his life or him just the way he tried with me. I shall wait till the time my brother finds a job after college (he has just entered his tenth grade now) and then, I shall either kill myself cuz of my “loving father” or perhaps leave home once again to “go live my life”.

This is not a story, rather a painful narrative of my past. And yes there are people like my father who would not hesitate to threaten the lives of their own sons if their interests were threatened.

If you have a father like mine, leave your house now and go live elsewhere. Your life is worth more if you aren’t buried in a concrete wall or in the backyard whilst your relatives and friends think that you had just upped and left.

In the words of my erudite friend “go live elsewhere for you will be able to do more good for your mom and your brother from far than being six feet underground in your yard”. 

GO LIVE YOUR LIFE....

Understanding My Father - Part III

Sigmund Freud’s Behavioral Theory Needs Amendment

In the previous part, you would have read Dr. Freud’s behavioral theory where the needs denied during childhood could have an adverse effect in adult behavior. In this part you are going to look at how the consciously denied needs of an adult affects behavior in the later stages….Proof? – My own living father Mr. Kelly Samuel

As you know, my father is fast approaching his 60s, is currently quite obese, unable to see his own toes, very ugly and not to forget that he is retired with a lot of time on hand and an absolutely idle mind!!!

He always reiterates a statement that when he was just approaching 30 he had to live his life according to timetable, that involved only work, mom & me and his so called “ ministry”! His claim is that such a timetable never let him have a social life and his constant transfers with the Indian banking system, had left too little of a personal life and way too much time to have idle thoughts viz a viz. is my wife cheating on me, is my son sucking the man next door, is my wife meeting my family members and updating them on my infidelities, etc.,

In all known manners my father has been a womanizer since time immemorial however; such an action of his does not give him the right to see everyone else in the same light. Though we know that it sure ain’t right to see others in the same light as one’s self, my father doesn’t and would not acknowledge it. He is under the impression that he is infidel and that makes everyone else infidel as well.

Coming back to the point of understanding what happens when an adult consciously suppresses a need… well, such a need is only repressed until that time he or she have more free time.

Well in this case, my father states that he had to fore go a lot of things in life since he had to stick to the timetable of providing for the family. Hence “needs” of his were not unconsciously forgotten. Rather, since it was a conscious effort to forget such needs, it has manifested itself in ways unimaginable.

One of the ways that I would like to coin at this point of time is that he has tried to have sexual relations with almost every woman in the family, especially if they belonged to my mother’s side. He has also tried sleeping with his own brothers’ wives, both of whom retaliated and that made him start looking for variety outside the family.

I could possibly conclude that this particular infidel character is much influenced by the Sagittarius trait that he possesses but it is more convincing if I had to pin it down to behavioral psychology (since Ms Radha from the University’s Psychology department stated that Psychology is a science that can be proved).

So remember, when an adult consciously makes an effort to suppress a need or a want, it only lays low in the conscious mind. When there is a lot of idle time for such a mind, it mills over what it had missed for so long and finds ways to re-live it.

In the case of my father, he had to suppress the need to fulfill the desires of his loin owing to reasons like the family, society and not to forget religion. Such a suppression has now led him to go against the family (the one for which he had lived life in accordance to a timetable) by sleeping with an underage girl with whom he has now successfully maintained a relationship for the past 10 years, go against the society by not giving a damn what it has to think or say and most importantly go against his own religion by violating one of the ten commandments…thou shall not covet thy neighbor’s wife.

Understanding My father - Part II

Me Being Gay – Sigmund Freud’s Behavioral Theory Proved

 

I AM SO FRIGGIN’ GAY and I AM SO VERY LOVING IT

Thank you GOD for creating me thus,

Thank you dad for sowing your seeds,

Thank you Dr. Freud for helping me understand and

Most importantly, Thank you Mrs. Thomas for teaching me how to read and think…without you, all of this wouldn’t have been possible.

 

Though this particular multi-part series is dedicated to my father, I had a passing thought that it would be much more enjoyable to you, my lovely readers if I had to confess a bit. What’s life without a bit of gossip hey?

Well, instead of letting you imagine too many great things about my ever so simple life, I thought I could tell you a bit about myself and how I am proud of my father for having denied things in my childhood that has led me to being gay.

There are many scientists who have various theories on us, “gay folk” or in the words of my father “the degenerate homosexuals”. There was one lady doctor who proved that the size of a gay man’s hypothalamus is half the size of that of a “straight” man’s while another proved that it was the result of the societal influence that led us to being gay.

While there was one other scientist who proved that choice lets me “lead such a life” (I really wonder if a person would choose to live in a country that is so homophobic, constantly be on the search for that elusive “soul-mate” and in the meantime getting burnt by every single fling AKA relationships…perhaps that last “scientist” would have to rethink his theory on how one would willingly choose to live in persecution, discrimination and possibly on the receiving end for anything that goes wrong in the society), I am more inclined to look at the genetic hand-down through the mother’s genes coupled with the subconscious-suppression of childhood need.

For those of you who are not certain about what it is that I am blabbering, then let me make it simple for you. I AM GAY AND AM SO VERY PROUD OF IT.

As I believe in the words of the wonderful scientist who studied the size of the hypothalamus, I thank GOD with all my heart for having created me GAY. Dear GOD, I couldn’t have done it without you….thank you so very much for having made me the way I am and I pray that I am made just the same way for the n number of time you wish to reincarnate me.

Since I also believe in the suppression of childhood wants affecting adult behavior, I thank Dr. Sigmund Freud for having understood the concept and putting it out there for us to understand ourselves.

Sigmund Freud stated that when a child is consciously denied a particular want, which later is manifested into a subconscious denial, such a want does not vanish completely, rather it is reflected in the behavior once it grows up to be an adult.

My father denied the most important things that I, as a child, could crave for …that fatherly love, care, a tiny little embrace to transfer the warmth and make me feel secure that everything is alright and everything will be.

 Since the time I remembered and retained a lot of things in my memory, I never had felt either of the above mentioned items. Rather they were all replaced with fear, fear and more fear.

This led me to finding the fatherly love in the most unlikely places and from the most unlikely candidates who took sexual advantage of my teeny li’l body (at the age of three. Yes I was teeny back then and none the better now).

I looked for care and embrace amongst uncles who were more interested in making love to my throat. I looked for that sense of false security in that hairy embrace of strangers who left a void that could never be filled.

After all this, the only impression that each and every one of them left in my mind was that I had to “service” them for them to make me feel secure!!! Well such a “security” lasted exactly for “ELEVEN Minutes” and then they dressed in a hurry before my aunts or their wives could return back home!!!

Yes, I was naïve to think that such encounters would give me the sense of security but at the age of three to seven, aren’t we all meant to be naïve and not be exposed to sex so early???

Hence, life as I have known it has been a fun run. If you haven’t understood a word that I have said so long, then all I can say to you is J and for all of you that have understood every single word that is stated here……LOVE Y’ALL.

Understanding My Father

 – A multi-part series that can help you understand your father if he is something like mine!!!

I have been thinking that the reason that I am the way that I am could in a lot of ways be attributed to the relationship that I have “enjoyed with my biological father. Such an enjoyment of our bonding time is what makes me think of him as an asshole who is an absolute waste of space on this planet and who consumes oxygen that could have benefited someone else. His existence defiles that oxygen around him thus poisoning and killing every one of us.

No, I am not in my adolescence, but long past that stage and into my early thirties now. But my aversion and absolute disgust towards my father was instilled even before my adolescence. Even though people ask me to abide by the Christian law of forgive and forget (I was raised Christian but not anymore), I am able to forgive his misdeeds but forgetting the same is just not possible. Moreover, I suppose forgetting could become possible if the same misdeeds are not done over and again. So simply put, my father does things that would make the skin on SATAN crawl and he does such things so very often that I am not able to forgive or forget.

At times it makes me wonder if I am his son. Reasons….

1  The only part of my body that resembles him are my large toes!

2I don’t think nor act like him

3I don’t chew with my mouth wide open to distract a conversation with a half masticated goat in my mouth

4Most importantly vile language (Indian regional or English) finds it hard to pass my teeth while for my dad it’s like just another word!!!

Well, some of the most important words of his that has so deeply burrowed itself into my psyche would be…

“If you are my son, you won’t do it”

“If you are born to one father, then you would listen to what I have to say”

“Bastard” (sounds more disgusting when said in an Indian regional language)

“You would do that cuz you are born to a prostitute” (can’t replace the word prostitute with Commercial Sex Worker, since my dad says prostitute).

When my very own biological father asks me such questions, it makes me wonder if he really has been a man to have sex with my mother and then beget me, or was I born to some very sweet, noble hearted man who possibly died before I was born, hence my father had to take up my mother and me being the forever-reminder that I am not his?

Before I conclude this part, I would like to explain how my father looks;

He is 5’6” in height, very obese weighing up to 140 kgs. / almost 300lbs. and can’t even see his weenie,  grey hair, absolutely disgusting personal hygiene and not to forget the absolutely deplorable talk. Perhaps one of these days, I shall put a pic of his, so you could understand the “pig” that I have deal with on a daily basis.