WHAT
WENT WRONG - 1
"I am Mool Chand,
fourth amongst my eight siblings, from a business family running a grocery shop, aged 27 years
and a resident of Delhi.
At age 11, I was studying in class VI in a Govt. School when I first smoked a cigarette
offered to me by my classmates. I was a keen student till then. Slowly I was
enticed by my friends to bunk classes and go to the movies. This became a regular
affair, as did my smoking.
I was not on very good terms with my father but my mother used to adore me. When my expenses
increased I started taking money from my mother on one pretext or the other, always in the
garb of school related expenditure. My father used to always question me but my
mother's blind support and unconditional love ensured that I got the money nevertheless.
My absenteeism in the school increased and soon my parents received a few letters from my
teachers. Upon questioning I used to lie to my mother and took advantage of her
illiteracy, while my father was busy with the management of his shop.
I had become very confident in my lies. I always wanted the maximum of everything in
life - good clothes, shoes, food, etc. etc. and this was all to ‘show off’ to my
friends. On some occasions, I even ran away from home and came back on my mother’s
pleadings. My mother continued to believe me and was willing to have me back home. My
father continued to dislike me, and disapprove of my mother’s indulgence.
Resources became a problem. I started to steal and borrow from whomsoever I could.
Meanwhile, I managed to reach class VIII. By this time I was habituated to daily
alcohol. Needless to add, friends were there with me. I could not study any more
and left school. By now I was not afraid of anything or anyone, not even my
father. I started to rebuff him. My mother was still there for me.
As per rules one had to be at least of 25 years of age for buying alcohol. Since I was
small I used to manage buying liquor from the liquor shops through people standing in the
queue saying, that I am taking it for my father and if I do not get back home with a bottle,
he would beat me up.
I had turned sixteen and had now graduated to consuming Charas. Money was not a problem now,
as our shop always offered a lot to steal since no proper accounts were maintained, I could
get away with it. I had been asked by my mother to tend the shop hoping I could become
responsible. But for me it became a source of money to meet my addictions. I also
got into the company of Truck Drivers who had started offering me Opium and took me to all the
wrong places I could go to.
It was excess of everything - drugs and stealing. I used to often run away from home and
return, again to be accepted by my mother against my father's wishes. This went on till
I was 21.
By now I was a pick pocketer. My friends taught me the trade. Police had by now
become aware of my activities and they started to raid my house regularly. I stayed
out. I got introduced to heroin. This was the best of all as it was easily
available in the neighbourhood. I learnt that my mother had bribed the police to stop
visiting me. I then returned to the safety of my home and to the ever accepting arms of
my mother. Now she was funding my soirees. Whenever she refused, I would abuse her
and any one else who stood in my way. My involvement in crime got intense and suddenly
the local Police wanted me. They caught me and put me into preventive
custody. My mother got me bailed out the very next day. However, I was arrested
again and this time, jailed for six months.
By now I had reached a stage when I did not need any one around except my drugs and my
friends, not even my mother who was giving me unconditional and ever-forgiving love.
I was again arrested for being in possession of drugs and jailed for around three years. The
police had, at the time of my arrest, seized around Rs. 5,000/- from me, which never got
recorded. My drug consumption did not stop even inside the Jail. There was a Head
Warder in the Jail who got me my quota of drugs at a price. He was finally caught and
imprisoned himself. However, my stay was cut short due to my acquittal. My mother
took me to a drug abuse treatment centre upon my release. I stayed for a short time and
then ran away. Again I was brought back and once again I managed to flee. Drugs were
still my passion.
In an effort to change me, my mother got me married. My wife loved me and never stopped
me from taking drugs initially just to keep me happy. However, slowly she too started
arguing with me and the situation developed into fights. I had by then sold off all her
jewelry, including even the last ring off one of her fingers while she was asleep. Even her
clothes were sold to fund my costs. My in-laws also supported me at times but eventually
they stopped upon my wife's instructions. My father died while staring at me, seeing my
helpless situation. Leaving his dead body behind in the house on the day of his death, I
went in search of drugs. By the time I returned my family had already cremated him.
My life continued like this. My pick pocketing got me at the receiving end of the wrath
of the public at times. I had become physically weak to handle all this now. My
mother had isolated me in a room and would throw food inside, not allowing anyone to see me.
My wife distanced herself from me. All my relatives too had deserted me. I was now
being called an untouchable who was carrying an infectious disease and anyone coming closer
would get infected. I fell sick and found myself totally alone. Ironically even my
friends were not there with me.
I was now totally estranged. I had no one for support. My mother yet again took me
for treatment. After admitting me her parting words were - "die here, do not run
away alive from here". This shattered me for she had never ever wished me
dead. I underwent the treatment. I did not run away this time. I am
presently serving for the last two years at the same centre as a day-nurse helping others in
similar situations.
If ……
If my mother had been alert in her possessive love towards me, maybe I could have been checked
at the initial stage. If my father had been supported by my mother in disciplining me,
it would have cut off my unwarranted protection.
Further, I feel, had my teachers taken just an extra amount of interest in my academic career
and personally interacted with my family and me, things could have been checked early.
The Local police, too had a decisive role to play in my life. Had they been honest and
corrective in their approach, they could have prevented my criminal contamination and
progression.
My wife too should have put her foot down firmly, the moment she detected my addiction to
drugs. Her conditional love and concern would have driven me to treatment and
correction.
My case was a preventable agony. Except that it took me 16 long years of my distressing
and wasteful life to understand it.
I am a lesson for many others ………. |
