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“Till I got married, my father didn’t ask for a rupee from me. My mother used to tell him; “He gave Rs 10,000 for household expenses”.

“It doesn’t matter even if he doesn’t contribute right now, but when my hands and legs stop working, I will certainly ask for money from him,” he’d say.

And see, as soon as I was married, my father made contributing to the family income necessary. When my elder brother married, he gave Rs 3000- I was made to start with 3000 as well but then they kept increasing and today I contribute Rs 5000. Now every month, two of us brothers give a sum of 5000 to my parentsSubstandardFullSizeRender 34

Actually, my parents don’t spend our money at all. They have opened fixed deposit accounts in name of their four grandchildren. Rest they manage with my father’s pension.

I remember never really enjoying going to the school. Once I told my father that I no longer wish to attend it anymore. My father caught me by my collar, and thrashed me inside the car. Till now he beats me.

I don’t drink every evening, but have this desire to enjoy Sundays. For the sake of enjoyment, I bring alcohol at my place. Sometimes I get a ninety, sometimes one entire khamba. In that case, I become out of control, and my wife tells this to my parents. Then my father comes, he beats at times, says that my wife has come to our place because of me. My wife is 12th pass, and I’m 8th fail.

I’m trying hard to quit alcohol; it’s just that there is only one Sunday in a week. The entire week I feel so tired, atleast once I need to relax, right?
You can’t relax with your family, it happens when you slightly switch on the television, go down and take out your car, visit the liquor shop, and bring some home. Then as you arrive, you take out some ice from the fridge, give wife some fish- tell her to fry it. She asks me to have just 90ml, I tell her ofcourse!

She keeps asking in between, “Your 90ml hasn’t finished till now? I tell her that the movie on television is really nice, and hence I’m drinking slowly. Then I get very high- a drunken man is well understood- no matter how much he hides, a drunken man’s voice is enough to tell that he’s drunk. Then my wife – no matter how much I try to hide, catches me, I always get caught.

Mai waise to daaru chodhne ke chakkar mai hi hun- par wo Sunday ko toh hota hi hai-wo kya hai na poora din thake hue, hafte mai aadmi ko relax toh mangta hi hai na- ab relax ghar par family ke sath nahi hota, wo kya, thoda zara ese TV on karne ka, neeche gaadi nikalne ka, daru leke aane ka, fridge mai se ice nikalne ka, wife ko macchhi la ke dene ka- bolne ka fry kar . Phir wo mujhe bolti hai dekho aj 90(ml), mai bolta hun ki han han 90(ml). Usko pata nahi rehta hai ki mai 90(ml) leke aya ki quarter. Bolti hai ki 90(ml) abhi tak khatam nahi hua aapka? Mai bolta ki aray picture thoda zada accha tha. Ab zada mai mujhe nasha zada ho jata hai- ab piya hua aadmi samjh aata hai. Wo chahe jitna bhi chupaye, uski awaaz bata deti hai. Toh mai pakda hi jaata hun apni wife ke saamne- kitna bhi bachega na, pakda hi jaata hai.

My elder brother drinks a lot of alcohol. He needs at least two beers every day. He’s a Bouncer by profession- a guard for some big shot builder. He gets a handsome salary of Rs 25000 a month. A car comes to pick him up every morning. He goes to the gym even at this age- he looks so huge! Now after going to these big-big parties, he has got the habit of drinking.

He doesn’t get along with my father very well. He did a love marriage, whereas my father had chosen his best friend’s daughter for him. From then, they stopped interacting much.

His wife is a nice woman- we all know her since childhood. We all were in the same area. My brother used to love her, everyone knew this – everyone would say that he’s a kid and would understand later- the kid directly brought the woman to our house. He got married in Rs 150. My marriage was a minimum of Rs 1.5 lakh- mine was an arranged marriage.

My brother went to our village after getting married. My uncle called up my father and told that Bilas has come home with a girl. My father requested him to keep this hidden till he reached there. The girl’s family was searching for her; they had even registered a complaint against my brother.

After five days, my father brought both of them to our place in Mumbai. The girl was a Brahmin and we are from Bodh caste. They don’t eat fish or any kind of non-vegetarian food- pure fanatics. After that nobody from the girl’s family ever met her or came to our place. Her father sold the room that they were staying in, since last 4-5 years nobody knows where they went- not even their daughter.

Now this is our society’s thinking, that their daughter was married in a lower caste. Aray nichle samaaj walon ka khoon nahi hai kya? Tumko kaatoge toh sona girega, hum log ko katoge toh paani girega, esa hai kya? [The blood of people of lower caste isn’t blood or what? If they’ll cut you, gold will shower, and if they cut us, water will leak?]

A human will always remain human, isn’t it? In the name of religion people kill one another. If they cut you or me, the loss is going to be ours only, no? If you are cut, four people will cry at your place, if I’m killed, four will cry at my place. The neighbour next door wouldn’t ever come to ask who was cut and why was he cut. It’s a very sad situation in which our thinking is caught today”.

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