Understanding My Father - Part V

The Broken 10 Commandments

~ Pastor Breaks Eight of the Ten Commandments

In this part, you are going to look at how my father, a retired banker, now embracing Christianity to such an extent that from being a part-time pastor has now become a full-time pastor, has broken 8 of the 10 commandments given to Moses. I have counted 8 to this very day, not too sure when his borderline psychosis is going to make him break the first two commandments as well.

Broken Commandment 1 ~ Do Not Take The Name of Thy God In Vain

As you may well be aware this is the third of the 10 commandments given by Prophet Moses. Wondering how my father has broken this commandment? Well, every time he lies, he swears upon the name of God, the son and the Holy Ghost. This he does with absolutely no qualm whatsoever. He has now gone to the extent of verbally abusing his own mother and makes her swear upon the Holy Ghost. If the father, son and the Holy Ghost are one through the trinity, then doesn’t swearing upon either one of them actually break the commandment of “taking thy God’s name in vain”? His latest trend in taking such a name in vain is by abusing everyone verbally and in two seconds calls out to Jesus Christ or God the father! The mouth that uses filthy language also preaches and calls to GOD!

Broken Commandment 2 ~ Keep The Sabbath Day Holy

This particular commandment has been broken only over the past few years, totaling not more than 6 or 7 years. On the Holy Day of Sunday (according to Christians) one is expected not to think, do or even speak evil as much as possible. For my father, this particular day is no different from any other day. He would go to church with a filthy mind, give an equally filthy sermon, come back home and use filthy language. Hence, the second commandment has also been broken successfully.

Broken Commandment 3 ~ Honor Thy Father and The Mother

Thankfully this commandment could not be broken with his father, since the good old Mr. Samuel passed away when I was 2. Sadly, my father’s mother, Ms. Clara Samuel is still alive thus giving my father an opportunity to break the 5^th commandment. Y’all need to understand that my gran pushed 90 two years ago, is quite feeble and senile. In many ways she reminds of a sweet, little innocent child who has comprehension issues due to ones level of understanding another’s speech. At this age, my gran has been cursed to be taken care by my father who abuses her every single waking day of her sad life. He curses her and keeps telling her to die so that his problems would end soon, he asks her if she was born to one man, he asks her if she is a bastard and on to top of such abuse my living father tells his living mother that she is a prostitute (translated from Tamil, hence can’t afford to be politically correct).

Broken Commandment 4 ~ Thou Shall Not Murder

Before my father became a banker / part-time pastor he was with one of the local political parties which had and still has the most influence within the state and at the center. Being at the centre of such a party my father claims that he was the one who took care of all the dirty work for this party. One day I overheard my father telling someone over the phone that he is the only person who knows where people who suddenly vanished during this party’s rule have been buried. I do not know if such a passing comment was meant to instill fear in the heart of the person on the other end of the phone line, in my heart or did he actually mean what he said. If I have to take this particular statement of his by its face value, then I could bet my life in saying that my father has successfully broken the sixth commandment.

Well even if this far-fetched claim of his ain’t true, then I believe he has committed the act of murder on many given occasions. In the third part of this multi-part series on my “father” you would have read about the bitch that my father is having an affair with. Well, this bitch’s mother told us that on many occasions my father had taken the bitch to a DNC center to abort their unborn child AKA murder the unborn child. I don’t care what others have to say but to me, this particular act of destroying life in the womb is the worst form of murder, immaterial of whether the child is legitimate or otherwise! Now with the proof that my father has been responsible in killing his own unborn child, I shall say to you that my father successfully has broken the 6^th commandment.

Broken Commandment 5 ~ Thou Shall Not Commit Adultery

By far, “thou shalt not commit adultery” was the easiest of all commandments that my father could break. Proof? The existence of the bitch, his need to constantly have an extra-marital relationship with family members or strangers and the fact that all the members whom he has tried to have an affair with are living testaments to this very day!

Broken Commandment 6 ~ Thou Shall Not Steal

For those of you who are under the impression that only material things can be stolen, then here is food for your thought and perhaps reason enough for a paradigm shift.

• ·        My father has an affair ~ stole my mother’s trust and betrayed the whole family

• ·        My father started having an affair with a girl who just turned 15 ~ stole her innocence and a beautiful life ahead

• ·        My father had made his “affair” undergo abortion on many occasions ~ stole an unborn child’s right to live

• ·        My father lied and still lies about a lot of things ~ stole and keeps stealing our right to truth  and last of all,

• ·        My father physically abused me and mentally tortured me, since I was a child through my adolescence ~ stole my right to a happy childhood.

There it is for you, a person need not necessarily steal material things alone to break the 8^th commandment given to Moses.

Broken Commandment 7 ~ Thou Shall Not Lie

My father suffers from impulsively lying. No, he is not an attorney by profession, but a retired employee of a bank. I was always under the impression that people lie only when they are scared that the truth could get them hurt. In the case of my father, he lies for the joy of it, he lies to ensure that the family does not stay together and most importantly he lies to make certain that situations seem too unbearable that we would have to depend upon him for a “solution”.

Eg. 1

I download a lot of movies, I love to play games on my laptop, I love to write and blog and yes occasionally I watch porn for that instant release. My father does not like the fact that I spend more “quality” time with my laptop than actually spending time listening to the ignorant garbage that comes out of his mouth. Hence, to make certain that I don’t spend much time on my computer, he tells me one morning that a group of cyber-crime people came to our house and made a lot of enquiries and apparently they had told him that they were tracking a lot of porn being downloaded at our house!

C’mon, who are we shitting here. We live in the god forsaken boonies where even the regular cops don’t come around often let alone the cyber-crime division pin-pointing the location of porn download! Moreover doesn’t the cybercrime division track down actual cybercrime???

 Eg. 2

Before I moved back in with my parents, my father always had the need to complain to me about how “out of track” my brother was. One day he was complaining that he has been calling people at random from our home phone and asking them for sexual favors. When I asked how my father knew about it, there was this momentary grunt not expecting the questions and quickly comes back with a retort saying that these people called back abused my father.

Sadly for my father, I removed the home phone unit and totaled it a long time ago. I also told my father that I was the one who broke the phone and there was no possibility that my brother could have done what he is being accused of. Then I asked my dad to shut the ---- up and also told him not to keep incessantly lying about every single thing.

Well, there sure are more such examples that can easily prove that my father, the pastor, broke the 9^th commandment successfully.

Broken Commandment 8 ~ Thou Shall Not Covet

My father coveted

·      His brothers’ wives

·      My mother’s sister

·      Our neighbors’ wives

·      Our women church believers

·      Some one’s innocent fifteen year old daughter and successfully having a relationship with her to this day.

And the list just goes on.

Breaking 8 commandments out of ten – That’s why we have pastors!

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....