Posted by: Owlet June 14, 2014
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WARNING: I just started but I have a feeling this might be long and VERY personal. Who knows? You might even shed a tear.
Before I begin, I know there may be many who may think that Sajha is an inappropriate platform to share this story. However, while I understand the strength behind being a closed book, I feel humans as social creatures have the innate need to express themselves, which I find is beautiful. Besides, I think it is about time that I share this story to the public, not because I am looking for sympathy, because I have got that covered (I pity myself plenty, LOL) but because it feels like an experience that ought to be told.
In my first post here, when introducing myself, I shared that I am obsessed with owls and have been for quite a while. This obsession is why my pseudonym here is "Owlet", why I have around a ridiculous number of accessories with owl designs on them and lastly, (this is going to take the cake) a giant owl tattoo with its wings all spread out on my back. Haha, I can already imagine a number of people cringing their faces at the idea of a tattoo, especially a large one. I would know, my mother refused to talk to me for about a month when I got it.
Anyway, moving on to the story, my obsession with owls did not start in the way it does for any- The Harry Potter books or the strange, unexpected fashion fad where everything from shirts to necklaces had owls on them. It actually started with something very tragic- the demise of my father back around seven years ago. He had gotten into an accident and so, as you can imagine this news came to us completely out of the blue. I still remember shuddering, my heart slowly breaking as I watched mother break down in front of me, pushing, pulling, screaming and crying. It was one those heartbreaking moments, where life just sneaks up from behind you and punches you in the gut. Hard.
Anyway, after I finally processed what had happened and got hold of myself, I focused my energy on attempting to console my hysterical mother. But as she would stare at me with the saddest, most helpless look I have ever seen on a person I would find it increasingly difficult to keep my own emotions under control. I would often run to the bathroom, to find some time alone, to get away from the sympathetic looks constantly reminding me of the tragedy that had just taken place. And it was during my hide outs that I saw it- An owl perched on the outside window over my bathroom. It had not been there yesterday. Or had it? I was confused but I let it go. It would probably be gone by tomorrow. But no, it was still there the next day, and the day after that and the day after that, and the day after that. Not that it would do anything interesting- it would just stay there with its eyes closed. And if I made noise, it would open its eyes, look at me with its big eyes (in retrospect I figure it was telling me to stop disturbing it). Every time I needed to run away from the world- to let out tears I had been fighting in front of other people or simply escape for a little while, I would go to that bathroom. Not that I would talk to him but I would always expect him to be there.
It was after the 45 day puja that the owl, who had now become sort of a companion of mine through this dark time left. I waited for it to come back, checking every morning but it did not show up. This is when I lost it. I cried and I think, this is when, apart from the day they confirmed the news, I felt that giant gaping hole in my heart. It finally started to hurt. All this time, I had refused to believe what was happening around me was true but now that the owl was gone, I felt my father's presence disappear with it. I don't know if the gods saw my pain or something, after around 15 days, it was back! Just sitting there casually, like nothing had happened. That prick, only if he knew how much pain his departure had caused me.
It stayed for over a year, in the same before it finally left, this time for good. But this time, I felt like I was ready to let go. Things had changed. I had already went up a grade, my mother had started going back to work and my brother was back in college.
I might not even be old enough to say this, but from what I have gathered from my short journey far, is one of the most experiences is having a loved one leave without them ever knowing what they meant to you. I had still hear my father going, ' ma ta ta lawyer bhayeko dekhepachhi matra marchhu.' This absence of closure leaves a bitter after taste. I don't know whether that owl was a reincarnation of my father(like Hinduism preaches), or a helped from the big man himself to help ease the pain or just a random owl. All I know is that it helped me through one of the most difficult time in my life, and even though it might not be the ideal way, gave me chance to say goodbye. Thanks to it, while it still bothers me to this day, I have been able to move forward with my life.
My tattoo is a tribute to my father, to that owl and to that experience. Although I would not in a million years want to relive it, I sure am glad I could take something away from it.
Before I begin, I know there may be many who may think that Sajha is an inappropriate platform to share this story. However, while I understand the strength behind being a closed book, I feel humans as social creatures have the innate need to express themselves, which I find is beautiful. Besides, I think it is about time that I share this story to the public, not because I am looking for sympathy, because I have got that covered (I pity myself plenty, LOL) but because it feels like an experience that ought to be told.
In my first post here, when introducing myself, I shared that I am obsessed with owls and have been for quite a while. This obsession is why my pseudonym here is "Owlet", why I have around a ridiculous number of accessories with owl designs on them and lastly, (this is going to take the cake) a giant owl tattoo with its wings all spread out on my back. Haha, I can already imagine a number of people cringing their faces at the idea of a tattoo, especially a large one. I would know, my mother refused to talk to me for about a month when I got it.
Anyway, moving on to the story, my obsession with owls did not start in the way it does for any- The Harry Potter books or the strange, unexpected fashion fad where everything from shirts to necklaces had owls on them. It actually started with something very tragic- the demise of my father back around seven years ago. He had gotten into an accident and so, as you can imagine this news came to us completely out of the blue. I still remember shuddering, my heart slowly breaking as I watched mother break down in front of me, pushing, pulling, screaming and crying. It was one those heartbreaking moments, where life just sneaks up from behind you and punches you in the gut. Hard.
Anyway, after I finally processed what had happened and got hold of myself, I focused my energy on attempting to console my hysterical mother. But as she would stare at me with the saddest, most helpless look I have ever seen on a person I would find it increasingly difficult to keep my own emotions under control. I would often run to the bathroom, to find some time alone, to get away from the sympathetic looks constantly reminding me of the tragedy that had just taken place. And it was during my hide outs that I saw it- An owl perched on the outside window over my bathroom. It had not been there yesterday. Or had it? I was confused but I let it go. It would probably be gone by tomorrow. But no, it was still there the next day, and the day after that and the day after that, and the day after that. Not that it would do anything interesting- it would just stay there with its eyes closed. And if I made noise, it would open its eyes, look at me with its big eyes (in retrospect I figure it was telling me to stop disturbing it). Every time I needed to run away from the world- to let out tears I had been fighting in front of other people or simply escape for a little while, I would go to that bathroom. Not that I would talk to him but I would always expect him to be there.
It was after the 45 day puja that the owl, who had now become sort of a companion of mine through this dark time left. I waited for it to come back, checking every morning but it did not show up. This is when I lost it. I cried and I think, this is when, apart from the day they confirmed the news, I felt that giant gaping hole in my heart. It finally started to hurt. All this time, I had refused to believe what was happening around me was true but now that the owl was gone, I felt my father's presence disappear with it. I don't know if the gods saw my pain or something, after around 15 days, it was back! Just sitting there casually, like nothing had happened. That prick, only if he knew how much pain his departure had caused me.
It stayed for over a year, in the same before it finally left, this time for good. But this time, I felt like I was ready to let go. Things had changed. I had already went up a grade, my mother had started going back to work and my brother was back in college.
I might not even be old enough to say this, but from what I have gathered from my short journey far, is one of the most experiences is having a loved one leave without them ever knowing what they meant to you. I had still hear my father going, ' ma ta ta lawyer bhayeko dekhepachhi matra marchhu.' This absence of closure leaves a bitter after taste. I don't know whether that owl was a reincarnation of my father(like Hinduism preaches), or a helped from the big man himself to help ease the pain or just a random owl. All I know is that it helped me through one of the most difficult time in my life, and even though it might not be the ideal way, gave me chance to say goodbye. Thanks to it, while it still bothers me to this day, I have been able to move forward with my life.
My tattoo is a tribute to my father, to that owl and to that experience. Although I would not in a million years want to relive it, I sure am glad I could take something away from it.