Family Anomalies

We all started with learning ABCs. As a child, we have raw minds that make it easy for us to recollect our sweetest memories down to the most heartbreaking ones.

Hi. My name is Jasveer. I am 17 years old. My mom gave that name to me, a Hindu name that means ” Hero of Fame “. For her, I am her toughest warrior and my little sister Selah’s savior when trouble comes her way. What I’m about to share about this so-called “Family Day” is something that I wish I would never tell anyone.

I remember the time when my father worked during the day. I am not familiar with his work environment, but I always hear him telling my mother that his hands were tired as a butcher, cutting and trimming meat all day at the market..

I don’t even have the guts to ask my father how his day went because every word you utter to him must be collected and polite. One unintentional choice of word, and you’re done. Perhaps, it’s one of the main reasons why my Mom always kept her mouth shut even if her plans and opinions are far better than Dad’s.

Everybody is expected to tell the world that their mother is the best. Yeah. Certainly. I just didn’t get why the closest people to me keep on telling me that Mom is a wasted jewel. Well, in fact, she is not. She’s our only treasure that even Dad is afraid of losing even if he doesn’t treat her right.

Whenever Sunday is fast approaching, I feel uncomfortable. Sudden lumps in my throat are bugging my sanities to hinder me from doing what I’m supposed to do. I just always pray that Dad won’t get any leisure days after working for 6 days. But it’s always like that and it never changes. Sunday was his rest day. Bottles of beer and a bunch of his noisy friends are the things we don’t anticipate. Guess what will happen the next day? Dad, not being able to get up in bed. Here comes the overused excuse: We had a family day. Lovely isn’t it?

My best friend Garry once told me before that their family day is a delightful moment he is looking forward to. They go to parks, eat good food outside, watch movies, or play golf together. That sounds great to me. And sometimes, I wonder what it feels like to spend a wonderful time with my family without shouting and crying.

I hate it when Mom cries from my Dad’s scorn because she charred a fried chicken while she was giving Selah a warm shower. I hate it when Dad tells Mom that she’s useless just because she can’t help with our finances. I hate Dad for hurting Mom physically and emotionally because she doesn’t like his weekend setup. And lastly, I hate family days, because that’s the time when Dad locked us in the room so nobody can annoy him and his pals with pitiful eyes while holding our empty stomachs.

I may not know what could be the possible reason for Mom’s unsurpassable endurance and strength. But I believe she didn’t deserve this mistreatment. The whole world is such a despicable place for good people.

I always wished there would be no family day ever at all.