Story #38: Beyond The Imperfections (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

I’ve had a privileged childhood. I’m sure it was better than what majority of children in a country like India get. I got everything I needed, had parents who loved me, who cared about me, and what not. And trust me, I’m very grateful for all that I’ve got. 
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But like everything else, nothing is perfect. And for me, it was my parents. My father although a good man at heart, very honest and has high morals, intelligent and knowledgeable but is also very aggressive and irrational at times; maybe it is because of the alcohol. He is not an alcoholic, I don’t think so, but does consume some alcohol on regular basis. My mother is a relatively simple person intellectually. She is not as intelligent and knowledgeable as my father, and this is one of the main reasons they don’t get along very well.
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When I remember this part of my childhood, I remember fights almost everyday. My father screaming; sometimes beating, mother crying, me and my sibling wondering what we should do and in general distress. My mother may make mistakes often, but nothing deserves such treatment from one’s life partner. A lot of times we were the victims to my father’s aggression too. Me and my sibling were slapped as children, shouted at, and what not. Somehow we grew up fine despite all of this happening. 
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There is this one specific incident that changed me and my family. Don’t get your hopes high as this does not have any happy ending, at least not at the time I write this. A lot of such “fights” happened late in evening, after my dad returned from office, and probably drank alcohol. I put fights in quotes because it wasn’t two-way, it was mostly my dad screaming and hurling horrible abuses at my mother in the loudest tone possible. I’m sure all the neighbors heard them. I would not go in too many details about this, because that’s not the point. 
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There were talks about being divorced. I must have been 14-15 years old then, and my sibling 12-13 years old. We were even asked pretty directly who we would want to stay with when our parents split. I don’t think a lot of kids are asked to make that hard a decision that young. It was devastating but somehow we got past it. 
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There was this night. I don’t know exactly what happened, but this was normal by our standards. Dad said something, mom said something. I am not sure. Me and my sibling were upstairs, and didn’t know what happened. Next thing we know, mom comes upstairs crying, and says, “I’ve called the police.” 
Our worst nightmare came true.. Police got involved in all of this, and I guess from this point of time, I could no longer not accept that this was the sad reality. Earlier if any relative asked about this, I said it was okay. Pretty normal. A few arguments here and there and that’s it. But I could no longer deny everything was wrong anymore. 
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I don’t think I should go into too much details about what happened then when the police arrived as I don’t think there is any point. In short, we played pretty chill. Since nothing significant happened that day, and no screams or abuses or violence was involved, there wasn’t much for the police to do. They thought that it was a case of wife getting upset at husband saying something, and the policemen started cracking jokes to make my mom happy. I guess the call was just the outburst of everything mother had to go through. Maybe someone advised her to do it the next time it happens. I don’t know. Policemen asked mom if she wanted my father to spend the night in jail, and thankfully she said no. Police left. Time to sleep for everyone. No conversation.
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I remember sitting on the bed, looking at the whole scene then, when everyone was talking of divorce, police being involved now. I mean, this was major for all of us. Earlier there were talks of divorce, mostly in a semi-casual manner, but after this, everyone was pretty sure something concrete would happen. Father could not believe this had happened to him, and I believe he was pretty sure he could not take this marriage anymore. Mother obviously could not take this, since she had called the police. I was wondering how my sibling felt, very young at that time. I felt bad for my younger sibling to have to go through all of this at such age. In that one second, I saw my whole family completely destroyed. I knew everything would change henceforth; how I would have to choose who to live with, no more usual family things. I felt a large building full of responsibility falling upon my tiny shoulders. I had to do something now in my life, for my sibling and parents. That one moment, It felt like everything froze, and I turned a man from a child. This was the moment that changed me, forever. 
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PS : No divorce took place, usual family again. Me and my sibling turned out fine, without any psychological trauma whatsoever. Of course everything still isn’t okay. There are still many such instances of shouting and cursing, in fact one right now as I write this. But I guess all of us are pretty used to it now. “Being happy isn’t about everything being perfect. It’s about seeing beyond the imperfections” Right? 
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Please don’t feel bad for me. It’s all okay. Things happen. I live an amazing life. I’m very grateful for it. No complaints. I have many amazing people who love me, and likewise.
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Love you all.
Thank you for taking the time out to read this.
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After reading some anecdotes, I felt like speaking to the writers of the anecdotes but unfortunately can’t. But incase anyone wishes to talk to me, my email is abd14789632f@gmail.com.
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It is tough to even talk about something so difficult that one’s family is going through, let alone writing it down. But this person did not only come to terms with the facts to talk about them, but also to write them down in a way that has surely resonated with me. 

I love the fact that despite the fights, despite the parents being so vulnerable, this person wrapped this story up with the words that they have an amazing life and no complains.
I, too, like the writer, believe that nothing is perfect. We all have, in our lives that one thing that constantly holds us down; it maybe a disease, a mental problem, or like in this case, family. But you know everything is going to be okay once you realise that you need to come to terms with your circumstance and accept things as they are. Only then, will you be able to make an effort to change the things that bother you. 
-:-

Any opinions, comments or ideas that you may want to put forward to the writer of this story can be mailed to me at ratti.priya5@gmail.com. Positive feedback and constructive criticism are more than welcome. 

(The Anonymous Anecdotes is a project under which anyone can send me a memory, a story or an experience from their life that had a profound impact on them. It requires people to write their respective experience along with the way it changed them or their perception of life. According to the project, these stories are being published anonymously, with the intent of spreading a positive message and a hope that anyone who reads, relates or learns.)

Story #27: Uneducated, Undefined & Understanding (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

So, before I introduce myself I would be giving an introduction of my mother. My mother is an uneducated, undefined and an understanding woman.

She is uneducated and yet her morals are higher than any of the PhDs out there, or may be because she is uneducated her morals are off the charts; maybe our education does fuck us up as humans.

She is undefined because she is infinity and nothing can define the enormity of her existence not even her own actions or the reasons behind those actions. Reasons which I cannot comprehend. For example, she divides the shopping budget in four so everyone in the family can get what they need and want and yet somehow ends up with zero addition to her closet. I sometimes hate my sister and papa because sometimes they cannot get over their lust for materialistic joy and it breaks my heart seeing her smiling even after all this, in her old rugged before-marriage clothes. I try to minimise my wants but I am not strong enough to sacrifice on my needs and sometimes mix the two not realising I am adding to the burden, so I suppose I am no different.

She is understanding. After her marriage she understood quickly enough that she is not to take a stand for herself. My father is a good man at the core but he is immature and has no clue when to say what, he sometimes out of habit yells at her and I don’t like him very much, she on the other hand understood how to live with a man like this.  Sometimes even I am mean to her and she understands that I mean none of it and laughs it off. Quite an understanding woman won’t you agree? 

Out of my sister and I, I grew up to be the sensitive one and I could tell the desires she killed, realised the sacrifices that she made and see the dried up tear trails over her ear to ear smile. I always wanted to make her proud but it never worked the way I wanted it to, because whenever I did something or even if I didn’t do a thing she was always proud of me. I wanted to do something for her but I was weak, neither good in studies or sports nor drawing or anything. I often cried and got picked on because of this in school. Then as I went in grade 10, I was introduced to something at school and I thank my stars that it happened. I made great friends there and I was starting to feel that I too can be strong, strong enough to guard her. My mother does nothing for herself, nor does she has any ambitions for herself but she is very ambitious for her kids, she may never show this but she is ambitious when it comes to me and my sister.

So I vow to become the king that she wants me to be and then be her knight who would make sure she never cries again. EVER.

All I want for the readers to get from this is make sure you are strong enough to hold on to whatever you hold dear and the only way to be strong is by knowing yourself. The ways to do that are subjective so keep looking if you have not found it yet. Strength to you and I thank you for reading this.

Love Always,
XXXXXXXX.


Not a lot of people would choose to write about their mothers when asked to describe an anecdote that had an impact on their life. While this is sad, it suddenly appals me to realise how we often forget to love and appreciate what our mothers do for us; how they dedicate their entire lives in bringing us up and making us who we are.

Being selfless and thinking about someone who does something for you, without having you even ask them for it is something very, very hard. But this story is selfless, sensitive, and loving.

People do a favour for us, and then want one back. But it’s only mothers who just continue to give all their love and care, selflessly, without any demands. So doesn’t it become our responsibility to give back to them, everything we owe without having them ask for it?

I love the thought behind this story, and I love the resolution the writer undertakes in the end. I know, each one of us has their own plans, their own ambitions to do something for themselves. But how often do we stop and think of doing something for our parents? How often do we tell them something as simple as a ‘thank you’ or an ‘I love you’?

-:-

(The Anonymous Anecdotes is a project under which anyone can send me a memory, a story or an experience from their life that had a profound impact on them. It requires people to write their respective experience along with the way it changed them or their perception of life. According to the project, these stories are being published anonymously, with the intent of spreading a positive message and a hope that anyone who reads, relates or learns. If you’re interested, you can send me your story at ratti.priya5@gmail.com.)

Story #25: You Are Not Alone (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

You are not alone.

This is a place filled with numerous characters and you are one of them. If it’s hurting today then may be it’s a day’s requirement so that you can come across that role. There are people who know that you are a great actor but still they try to make it difficult so that you can come up with a whole new way to save your soul.

Just realize that you are not alone; someone is there who cares but does not show it in front of you so that you can act mature. Someone who loves you but is afraid to lose you. Someone who looks up to you as you have achieved what they wanted to. That someone is always there whose life will be affected by you its just you have to realize that you are not alone; that thinking of loneliness, anxiety and pressure which leads to depression is just a matter of time if you start appreciating the life and make it worth living than all you have is living life king size.

The road may be difficult and you may require some chances to conquer but it doesn’t matter if you know that it will lead you to a successful life and if those disheartened moments will sooner be read as some stories of disguise. You have your parents, family and friends who will always guide you when you require; don’t take it as a burden, just listen and take what you require. Start working and start socialising.

That work will make you worth living and socializing will lead you to a better home & living environment around you. If you are afraid of love and togetherness then there is animals you can adopt and live with. Nature, gods biggest gift to mankind, those hilly areas, rivers, those places which bring so much calm to the heart, go out and fall in love with them.

Just try to do what your heart wants because there is always something which will love you back if you take a first step .
So you are not alone if you don’t want to or force yourself to.


“…There is always something which will love you back if you take the first step.” I had goosebumps while reading this line!

I think this post, these exact words are what we need today. Each one of us teenagers who’re somewhere or the other lost because of a setback. We have our own notions of love, and our unique pain when we suffer from a loss, or a heartbreak. But how do we deal with what comes after? We realise that we are not alone.

We learn to fall in love again; with something or the other, and sometimes, even with ourselves. This post is a story, a learning and an after note in itself. So I will just reinforce the things that have impacted me the most: Always have faith; believe that someone has your back, every step of the way. Fall in love. You are not alone. 

-:-

(The Anonymous Anecdotes is a project under which anyone can send me a memory, a story or an experience from their life that had a profound impact on them. It requires people to write their respective experience along with the way it changed them or their perception of life. According to the project, these stories are being published anonymously, with the intent of spreading a positive message and a hope that anyone who reads, relates or learns. If you’re interested, you can send me your story at ratti.priya5@gmail.com.)

Story #24: The Last Time He Was In My House (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

The story is about my family. My dad is a patient of Bipolar Disorder. For those who don’t know what it is: it is a manic or depression phase that may last week or months.

I don’t know why but whenever this happens my dad usually indulges in a fight with my mom or sometimes with my sister or with me and I have been seeing it for a long time. When I was a kid I remember we had to stay at our my mother’s house for a while so that my dad doesn’t hit my mom again. My mom is a strong woman and a single earning parent too. My dad hasn’t really been my dad neither mentally or financially. My mom is a home tutor and she has been managing all the things, all of our expenses except our school fees that is managed by our father brother’s but other than that all of is done my mom. We have been living like for past 20 years but this year something unusual happened in the month of March.

My dad was hospitalised for sugar but after he came home something happened which changed our lives completely and I can’t get over it. I’d just left for college when it happened. I have dog and he is 6 years old and we all love him more than anything in the world. I don’t know about my dad but he doesn’t hate him either. My dog was trying to sit next to my father when my dad punched him right next to his ribs and started crying. My sister couldn’t control her anger and she hit my dad really badly; I know that was wrong of her to hit her dad like that but he really hasn’t been our dad since the starting and we don’t have that kind of affection for our father like we have for our mom or our dog.

But what my dad did was something that no father would do to his daughter. He grabbed my sister by her hair, pushed her down and started hitting her. My mom tried to stop him but she couldn’t; he punched her at least a 100 times. She immediately called the police. My dad left for his shop and that was the last time he was in my house.

We realized that when we were kids my dad hit my mom and we could’t do anything as we were kids. But now, my sister 23 and I, 20 decided that we couldn’t live with our dad anymore. My sister and I immediately went to out father’s elder brother and told him that we wouldn’t let him enter the house. My dad didn’t come but another one of his elder brothers called us atleast 20 times that day so as to convince us to take him home for once. But we could’t take the risk because when he left the house he’d told us that he would kill our dog and we were afraid of that.

My father has a big family and at least 10 brothers and 2 sisters but not one of them called and asked about my sister. All of them were only trying to convince us to let him enter the house once but we knew that once he entered he was not going to leave. I was very angry on my dad. I couldn’t control my anger. I wanted to beat my father but we didn’t see him for a week or two. The thing was that no one knew about the thing which my sister did- we didn’t tell anyone about that except my mother’s younger brother and his wife. My dad called all of my mother’s family and all he did was say shit like how much your sister would take to leave my house, abuses against my family and a lot of shit. He didn’t even have a single drop of tear; all he wanted to have the house to him and wasn’t sorry at all.

He came back once after 2 weeks, but I guess he didn’t even say sorry at that time. He only came because his elder brother had convinced him to go but we didn’t let him enter then. His brother came and tried to convince but my mother, my sister and I didn’t listen to him. We gave his things to his brother and our father left.

Seeing him go like that made me think that I should go and get him back but I didn’t. My father is now living at our relatives’ house but on a different floor. He gets food, electricity and water but there is no one to talk to him. There is no AC or cooler; maybe not even a bed. Not that I know of, but these things don’t let me sleep.

It has been 3 months and there hasn’t been a single night when I’m able to sleep before 3 or 4 am. All night I think I’m here sleeping in my comfort with a bed, AC and my father has nothing and this thought rolls in my mind over and over again. Sometimes I feel I should get my dad back but I don’t know what I should do. Should I talk to someone about it in my family or not? My family would never be a complete family even if my dad comes back, he always have been a just another person in my family. We don’t love him that much and neither does he loves us but still biologically he is my dad. I somewhere also think that my sister was wrong and that I should get back my father . That is all I wanted share right now.


We come into this world, and spend the maximum amount of time of our lives with our family: no, not the extended one, but the three people in your life that stick with you through thick and thin. The people who have seen you grow and become what you are today. Your parents, and maybe, a sibling.

These are the people who mean the world to us, and when things don’t turn out well with them, nothing feels alright anymore.

I believe what I have drawn from this is to not let go; sometimes as we suffer because of somebody else, all we really see is the pain that we are going through at that time. What we don’t see is the internal battle that person must’ve been going through; perhaps a problem unique to them that is the root of their behaviour (in this case, bipolar disorder.) Maybe I’m saying this because my inherent psychologist is surfacing. I don’t know. I just think empathy is important, but not at the cost of someone’s self respect. 

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(The Anonymous Anecdotes is a project under which anyone can send me a memory, a story or an experience from their life that had a profound impact on them. It requires people to write their respective experience along with the way it changed them or their perception of life. According to the project, these stories are being published anonymously, with the intent of spreading a positive message and a hope that anyone who reads, relates or learns. If you’re interested, you can send me your story at ratti.priya5@gmail.com.)

Story #8: Bold & Beautiful (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

Since I was fifteen years old, my dad made me independent. I learned how to drive a scooty, I used to go to the school and tuitions myself, and I even used to help my dad in his business by paying office and house bills. It was surely an easy thing for a child living in a metro city, but in a small town, that too in a locality with narrow minded people- these things mattered a lot. 

Once, my dad asked me to buy some non-veg food from this restaurant at 8 o clock in the night and that too on my scooty. There, I was surrounded by all these uncles and boys and at first I felt very scared and shy.  But then I don’t know what came into me; I felt that sense of confidence to face the world. All alone.

I used to feel a bit frustrated while doing all my work by myself. All girls used to be accompanied by their fathers and brothers. But I used to be alone.

Now, I realize the real motive of my dad behind all this. He was making me independent and confident. This thing made me feel that girls are no less than boys, and we should never feel this thing within. The world will dominate and scare you, but its up to you to face it. Only you can prepare yourself to be bold and brave.

A person is all alone in this race. No one is going to be by your side. Its you who has to take decisions for yourself and own up to all your mistakes.

Only you can make yourself bold and beautiful from within.


In India it’s usually the male child who is laden with the responsibility of carrying out such chores. But it inspires me how doing something for her father gave this person an urge, and the confidence that she could do anything by herself.

Here’s an effort by a girl to overcome her inherent fears, to pay no heed to society’s judgments, and to be free in every sense of the word. Don’t we all feel the same at some point, too? In fact, don’t we all want the same?

Someone whose childhood has led her up to this current state in her life where she’s a happy, and more importantly free soul; free from dependence on anyone for anything; and all this a result of one small experience, standing at a restaurant one night? Little moments in life really make us who we are, don’t they?

I’ve come to idolize the way her words exude a confidence that she seems to have heaped into her spirit through experience and struggles. This story has inspired me a lot because, this is what I want to be, too. Independent.

-:-

(The Anonymous Anecdotes is a project under which anyone can send me a memory, a story or an experience from their life that had a profound impact on them. It requires people to write their respective experience along with the way it changed them or their perception of life. According to the project, these stories are being published anonymously, with the intent of spreading a positive message and a hope that anyone who reads, relates or learns. If you’re interested, you can send me your story at ratti.priya5@gmail.com.)