Here I am a year and half old in Australia and still unknown to what I had come here for. I had come here to discover myself. However I just feel everything got more complicated. have you ever been real scared of something? I have I am scared to accept my weaknesses. I hate to accept that I am lazy , I hate to even work on it. I hate to accept that I don't want to work or study, though I wouldn't compromise to stay poor. I hate to accept that I have stage fear. I love talking to strangers but I can't give a speech to a crowd. I hate to accept that I even lack self confidence at times. It wouldn't be fair to my life if I said living in Australia was a piece of cake because there were times when I wanted to tear apart myself and there were times when I wanted to kill every person who had hurt me. I am a completely different person now and I am so thankful to my parents for this. It wasn't Australia which changed me but my parents. I could have been the same different sitting in Bhatinda probably. Its the distance from mum and dad that make me realize how precious each moment spent with them is. It is the memories I have with me of them. Some of the memories which I think quite often are the ones of recent years spent together. Though I wouldn't have categorized them as the good times if someone would have asked me then. Life it is, isn't it ? Well so coming back to the memories. I often cry when I think of the days when my dad and Fluffy(my dog) used to drop me in the car to my bus stop every morning even though it must have been just 100 meters from my place. I also cherish the memory of eating ice creams with mum dad from this special parlor which took us 15 minutes by car to get to. I remember mum cooking snacks in the evening and them praising how good I was at cooking soup even though the task was just boiling the powdered stuff in water. I wish I had loved them then. Only now I realize how much happier I would have been if I loved them, also with no regrets of hating them. One special memory goes back to I guess when I must have been just in grade V or VI when my parents took me to this market that was miles away just because the local market was closed and I had to wear something new for my birthday next week. Every time I stop myself from buying something makes me realize I was so fortunate to have them because the word budgeting had never been said in my house. I got what I wanted even when I would have possessed thirty others of the same kind. My friends over here envy me for having such parents and I love to be felt so lucky, so special. However no one knows the guilt I carry with me. No one must have been fortunate but unfortunate at the same time like me. No one would have been foolish enough not to realize their worth. My parents are my Gods. Every bit of me is convinced with the fact that whatever they do is for our own good. With this I would like to end here and would request all the people who come across this blog that DON'T FALL IN THE PIT I FELL IN. THE GUILT OF HATING THEM KILLS YOU EACH DAY.
I LOVE U MA, PA AND DI..
( THIS POST IS FOR MY FAMILY)
