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7 year old!



Emptiness and silence an abstract to every flourished myth around you! 

The writing here is an instinct! Simply a way of expression! 

A decade back I was 7, sweet little girl! Cartoons used to be my love, Games used to be my crush and friends used to be everything for me! 
Innocence is what we kid used to have. 

The world seemed so beautiful, the environment out there used to seem so much mesmerizing!  A bunch of friends and different games; I miss it. 

What could even anyone expect from a 7 year old? The cute smile? Sweet words and different silly questions? Well that’s what every kid possess! Nobody has that Idea of rocking  stage, signing autographs or flying a jet; My friend everything has a time and the brain grows accordingly! 

I had a younger sister, she was 3 a decade back! I loved her a lot! She was an angel! 

She was so much loved that she had a bed for herself to sleep at, fully washed and new clothes to wear. Proper meal was served to her! 

I used to fantasize my life to that of hers! I had never got that good bed sleep, rather I used to sleep on a bed sheet in the kitchen floor. The stitched clothes had so much bad smell that I used to wear for weeks! 

Every night I used to have a dream where I had full of my time with my friends but then the early morning everything used to fade out! 

Time passed so did my age! 

I had then turned 15, nothing had changed except the stitches on my clothes! It was more then! 

Life was going through a lot of stuffs! 

The same routine, waking up the early morning and working until the night! 

My parents loved me a lot, they used to scold me but I knew the love that they had it was enormous and the slap was to make me understand about my mistakes! I never said anything!  

I was a strong girl, My dad used to say! 

He used to play with me every time mom was out of the house! 
It used to seem so much interesting since I had no friends! I used to enjoy my dads company. 

This went on for months until one night mom stayed at her mother’s house! 

It was just me and my dad, we had finished our dinner and I was preparing my floor bed when I heard my dad calling my name, “Angela”? 

I went inside his bedroom and asked if he wanted anything! He smiled and asked if I wanted to play a game! I was excited and said yes! 

That night was a painful night! I had no idea what had happened! 

I am 17 now, I have never been out of my house, never seen the world, I don’t get dreams but something is similar so far now! 2 years has passed and still few times in a month my dad plays that painful game with me! 

I ask for nothing but , “Dad, The games you come up with seems not to be good.” 

I cannot play this every time! 

Games are meant for having fun, isn’t it? 

Then Why do I get tears every time we play this game? Why do I get dull? What does the pain signify? Am I still healthy? 

Can we please not play anymore dad? 

Saail Pokhrel 










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Comments

  1. UnknownOctober 8, 2018 at 8:53 PM

    Great job.. Saail... You have really put a decent effort to express the pain of little girl which she only knew with your simple and sweet words

    ReplyDelete
  2. UnknownOctober 8, 2018 at 9:48 PM

    Great work. .. You are really a very talented writer 😁. . .. . Keep it up 😊

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. BarmecideOctober 12, 2018 at 12:34 AM

      Thank you. Sure, keep following up with Barmecide.

      Delete
  3. UnknownOctober 8, 2018 at 9:59 PM

    Absolutely loved this 😍
    Your efforts on showing the real pain of that girl is really something that should be praised ❤️

    ReplyDelete
  4. UnknownOctober 12, 2018 at 12:10 AM

    The pain of the little girl brought tears in my eyes.Loved it❤

    ReplyDelete
  5. Romanch JRFebruary 1, 2019 at 4:03 AM

    great work!!!

    ReplyDelete
  6. UnknownFebruary 16, 2019 at 7:30 PM

    Simple words with painful meaning......Great job.

    ReplyDelete
  7. SuspanaFebruary 27, 2019 at 12:49 AM

    Great work 😍😍

    ReplyDelete
  8. UnknownJanuary 31, 2020 at 1:13 PM

    keep it up buddy ! One of the finest

    ReplyDelete

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