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 #37: Past, Present, Future? (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

Past, present, future; the three things that define our lives.
Do they really?

People often ask me about me past experience. What all did I do in school? Was I a good student? What all hobbies I had?

If not my past, they are way too interested in my future. What do you plan to do after two years? What do you want to become? What’s your ultimate goal in life?

Each time, I feel, hang on, please. Let’s discuss our present lives. Let’s talk about where we are right now, at this moment. 

Our generation has just forgotten the meaning of living in the present. Either we are too sad about the past, or too scared about the future. 

This has led us to not value things in our lives, more importantly, the people in our lives. Nothing is permanent; that’s the biggest truth of life. 

The people you love, live with them in the present. Do not think about the past or what’s going to happen in the future.

You must be thinking, it’s not easy to have such a perspective about life. But trust me, it’s the best way. 

I had my experience which taught me this. I don’t want to talk about it much, because it’s gone, it’s in the past. 

I was about ten; very young to understand emotions and people, obviously. I had a brother; lost him when he was not even three months old. The most precious one in my life. At that point, I didn’t even realise what had happened. 

My family made me strong. So now, I realise that indeed, nothing is permanent. You never know what’s going to happen. 

So just love the people you really want to. Enjoy the moments now. Because really, life is just about the present; no past, no future. 


I’ve always seen the present as this, nothingness. The present, to me, is just a fleeting moment; always moving away from us just when we’re reaching to grab it.

But the fact that nothing is permanent forces one into action. Knowing that all we have is right now, even if it’s just a fleeting moment, makes you seize the moment. 

Appreciate what you have right now, because things will not be the same forever. 

-:-

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 #28: A Lone Boulevard (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

Over the two decades I’ve managed to survive on this planet, the most important thing that I’ve realised is that life in fact, is a lone boulevard. You can try and make people stay with you all you want, but that is not going to happen. 

No matter how much you do for them, no matter how much you care for them or love them and no matter how many times you tell them how much they mean to you, they will eventually leave. Because that is the way life works and there is nothing you can do about it. People come and go according to ever changing circumstances, you can’t blame anyone about it. 

“Forever” is the biggest lie, we all promise each other, when none of us know how long that exactly is. 

Sometimes, these things really get to you. It doesn’t matter if it was a friendship or a relationship, when it ends, your heart breaks a little. But you need to realise that you cannot bind someone to stay with you. 

At the end, it depends on you, how you take it. You can be upset about it, you can overthink and blame yourself, but that isn’t going to achieve anything. You’re only going to end up hurting yourself.

The best solution is to have no expectations and becoming more independent. Whatever you do for someone, do not do it to oblige them or expect something in return for it. Become the right kind of selfless, but not to the point where people take advantage of you.

We all need to be comfortable in our own skin and appreciate the beauty of solitude, find happiness in being in your own company. The only person who will stick with you through everything is YOU.

Remember the energy you give out in the universe, eventually does find a way back to you.

Your entire life is a book, and the people you meet are merely chapters. Eventually, every chapter has to get over, only then the story can move forward.


I have, by now come across more than one stories that touch upon the subject of finding comfort in your company. It makes me so happy because I believe in it too much, and finding people whose stories actually propagate this view is amazing!

The writer couldn’t be more straightforward in her words. Yes, forever is an illusion that we entertain ourselves with, sometimes. Well, even if you think forever exists, you should be able to be with yourself and know that that is okay. As I have said before, there comes a time in our lives when nothing can pick us up from a downfall but ourselves.

So learn to love yourself, the most. Learn to let go. Remember that life is an echo: you get back what you give. Be positive and happy, and make others around you feel good about themselves. The universe will send the positive vibes back to you, all in good time.

-:-

(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 #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 #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. 

-:-

(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 #21: Was He Even There? (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

Was he even there?
Was that a commitment?

Or maybe, his attempt to come out of something, something even more disastrous in his past. Or maybe, he really meant what he said when he held my hands.

I suppose it was his convenience of not being able to stay alone for quite sometime. If he had really wanted me to stay, stay where I found my home, he would have cared enough for my fears, my dark and my pain, my worst and my all. He was aware of the dark, the grays and the blues but always expected the spring of me. He, who said he won’t leave, had left because now he realizes the world shall shower spring upon him but not me.  The whirl of wind and darkness are heavier than any armor. The dreamer in me did not stop loving him. I just stopped putting it up into my sleeve and making one last effort, every time when it’s the last time.

I already knew why it was necessary to give up on humans, friends and the dearest of friends but wasn’t able to do it any time but now I am trying to figure out how to give up on emotions. They tend to incapacitate you from applying your senses, basic logic in your dark times and leave you shattered with every drop of hope, expecting, imagining, venting yet hoping that this time if he’ll return, he’ll return with no part of him belonging to his past.


Sometimes when people love us, they unconsciously place us within the bounds of terms that are impossible for us to reach; these terms make love hard, and carve out vacuums in relationships where heartbreaks are born.

Love does incapacitate you, but it is beautiful at the same time, in the sense that you fight, you disagree, yet you still work towards an agreement. That is love. Anything that does not require effort is practically a joke. 

So don’t be afraid of walking away from anything that does not give you happiness; let go of expectations to live a happy life; and most importantly, let emotions only so close as to let them wash your feet, not drown 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 #20: Words I’ll Never Speak To Anyone (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

It maim so bad I just want either to talon out of my brain or pick and peel at my skin until I can uncover some emotion within.

It’s 5 am. There’s no sleep in my future, no release after consuming 80 mg of vyvanse and a few gallons of caffeine to study for exams. When your brain is this hyper-focused, it doesn’t take much to start thinking about the pile of bullshit that you are. It won’t shut off, it won’t ever.

Being this self-reliant and self-serving takes a toll on relationships. For a while, people think you’re just a free spirit. Eventually, they understand you’re just an emotionless block of ice. I can’t open up to anyone. It’s like I won’t let myself care for someone too deeply because I want to save myself from being hurt or scared or abandoned or used, treated right, appreciated, loved, counted on.

My fingernails are bitten to the quick.
All I want is for it to shut off.
All I want is to shut off.

Is being alone worth being unbroken? Or is being alone more detrimental? Any damage done is all self-infliction, the most shameful brand of injury.

It’s great at first. Being on your own. You are your own best friend, your own protector. For a few years, you’re confident in yourself and people like you. You laugh more; why not when you are the creator of your own happiness? She doesn’t care what people think. But then, she’s unreachable; she’s like a star that’s burning just a little too far away. Still dazzling, yet just out of reach. Just when you think you’re getting close, when you think you have her in your viewfinder, the clouds roll in. The thing about stars… The brighter they shine, the hotter they burn.

You can pretend all you want; you can put on a show for yourself and the rest of the world that everything is smooth sailing. Eventually, you either are going to drown in the facade or you let yourself be rescued.

These are words I’ll never speak to anyone. They would never come out. There’s going to be a day where I give up; I’ll throw all my hopes of actually being happy and confident and loving someone right down a wishing well. It will be bad for a while; there will be a lot of booze, strange men, and little self respect. I’ll finally treat myself like the empty shell I made myself.

One day, when it’s time to settle down, I’ll find a nice, successful man but not start a family. I’ll continue to smile always and care for my own, but by then I’ll be nothing. I will be another empty soul suffering through daily life because that’s what strong, respectable people do. My kids will grow up like me, non existential : good neighborhood, the means to be successful, plenty of attention, but with the detached love of a mother who really isn’t a person anymore.

Broken people always live the longest, most cruel lives. People of my kind are too proud to end it all, even when they are the burden.  I’ll live in a nice home somewhere warm, somewhere sunny. I’ll take my breakfast facing the west to watch the sunrise. Dinner, the east for the sunset. Watching the sun paint each and every day, wondering which one might be my last.


I find this piece written out so beautifully, laid out like a rhythm my ears are growing fond of, yet it is impossible to ignore the pain lying latent beneath these words. This isn’t an anecdote: this is an account, a converging point for the authors’ past, present and future. Its again one of those stories, I think, that has too many lessons to teach, and a different meaning every time you read it. You can’t gulp it down in one read, no. 

I, for one, read it several times and couldn’t help but relate. I just realized how I could relate to some or the other element in every story- it’s funny how we all experience almost the same things; the same kind of pain, only  dressed differently.

From the need to be self-reliant, to eventually throwing all our hopes down a wishing well; from sleepless nights to nightmares about the future, we’ve somewhere experienced each one of these things.  We all have things that give us pain, experiences that weaken us; for most people it is a battle with their own selves. What makes the difference is how you fight it, and if you give your weaknesses enough power to win or lose. 

-:-

(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.)