Story#42 : The Child Prodigy
Hello, do you know me? I was entertaining you for some time. You know me very well. In fact you are also responsible for what I am today. I am the child prodigy. Yes! The same child prodigy you all nurtured end encouraged; the one you clapped for; the one you wished to be your own child. Today is my 18th birthday.
Today, I am writing my last letter to you all. After writing this mail, I may live for another 2 more hours. Before you reach to me, I will be history. I decided to put an end to my misery. But, I want to tell few things to you before I bid adieu. I don’t want the same fate happen to any other children out there.
Do you know that, unlike other children, I never got to play and enjoy my life? My parents made my life as their own. They celebrated my life and when they saw me becoming a burden, they abandoned me. Let me tell you my story.
I was born to my IT manager father and Banker mother. I was born 2 years after my parents got married. When I was born, both of them were already managers in their respective fields. They had lot of friends and colleagues. They used to come home frequently. I and my parents also used to go their houses as home based parties were common on those days.
From my childhood itself, I was good in memorizing things. For my third birthday, I was gifted with a chart with country names, capitals and the flag. I liked the colors of the flags and I started identifying the names based on the color of the flags. I couldn’t read, but my mother told me the names of the 10 countries in that list. I tried to remember them. Next time, when my mother asked, I was able to tell the country and capital names for 9 out of the ten countries.
My mother was surprised at my memory power. Then she told me the name of other countries. Over a period of 15 days, I was able to identify the name of the countries and their capitals based on the flags. My parents were proud and they showed my skills in front of their colleagues. I was so happy to please my parents especially because, they were spending time with me for teaching me. Before that, they didn’t bother about me much.
Then the opportunity came for my father. There was a children’s program in his office. He took me and exhibited my skill in front of his colleagues in the office. That was my first stage appearance. I was 42 months old at that time. Everybody congratulated me and my father. Then it was my mother’s turn. She took me to her bank for a similar function. I repeated my skills there. That’s when I was officially accepted as a “Child Prodigy” and that was my big mistake.
Suddenly, I became a star. One of my father’s colleagues had connections in media industry. He took me to the studio and aired a program in TV. That became an instant hit and my name became familiar among the households. I was just 4 years then.
What followed was a flurry of TV shows and interviews. I enjoyed the fame and moreover I liked the presence of my parents and their happiness. They were more and more attentive to me. But, I never knew that, my childhood was getting over so fast. I never mingled with other kids. I never played with them. Instead of going to school, the teachers came to my house to teach me. I was a star by that time
Then I was admitted into a school directly to second standard when I was just 5 years old. I never had chance to sing the kindergarten nursery rhymes or play the “Merry go round”. I was not supposed to do those silly things because, I was a genius. . Do you know how much wished to play piano and jazz drums? Do you have any idea how much I loved to do paintings? But, I was not allowed.
The school authorities made a pact with my father that, I will attend school whenever I have time. School authorities never had a problem. For them, I was a marketing material. They got more admissions and more donations by projecting me as a “product” of their school.
In between, some varieties have been added to “The Flag-Country-Capital” show. I was taught the name of the president, the population, the currency, language and the climate of those countries. I memorized.
Things were not easy for me. Of course, I had the memory power. But it was not infinite. I spent more and more time on books and with the tutors. But then, people started getting bored of the same thing. Then my Father invented a new show. He started teaching me the cars and the models all over the world. It was difficult for me. But, I learned. I hardly slept. I started feeling jealous about the kids who were having a happy and normal life. I understood that, I had no escape. I was a prisoner in the prison which I designed myself.
When I was not able to remember, my parents punished me. I was accused that, “the fame has gone into your head and you are not focusing anymore”. In fact, the fame had gone into my parents head. School had always given me 100% in all subjects even without attending the classes. For them, I was the free advertisement they can get.
I didn’t know how the time passed. I was 11 years old and I was a well know personality in India. People compared me to Newton and Einstein. I liked the attention, but I knew that, I was sinking. My parents forcefully took me to speed mathematics. I tried hard and I was able to meet some expectations. Then I was called “Human calculator”. Once I fumbled in a live show. Then the channel authorities made another dirty deal with my father. They decided to “fix” my show. The people in the show were bought and they asked only the questions which were already practiced. The questions and answers were all fixed. It was a hit and other channels followed the suit.
When I was 13 years old, my father created a website and registered a company under my name. I was the youngest CEO of a tech company. Again I was in limelight. He created a lot of fake videos. I and some people acted as though I was in interviews. I played the scripts very well. My father employed a small team of technical people who actually worked on the ground. That ran for a year.
By that time, the expectation on me was sky high. There was a large room full of trophies, certificates and medals. Then my father had the next ambition. In one of the live shows, somebody challenged him whether I can crack IIT entrance test. He accepted the challenge on my behalf and he wanted me to crack IIT entrance at the age of 14. He knew very well that, I was not up for it. All I could do was to just memorize things. But, who listens to me?
Next 6 months it was torture. I was allowed to sleep hardly for 3 hours. I was given day night training by best teachers available. When teachers raised concerns about my ability, they were fed with more money. I knew where it was all leading to. As expected, I failed to crack IIT. My father tried all his ways to rig the results. But somehow, he couldn’t. Maybe, because I was already a star and there were too many eyes on me and my father.
Then my parents’ attitude towards me changed. The media, who was always curious to see my next step, stopped caring about me. When the media attention dried up, my parents also withdrew from me. They already used me; there was nothing left in me. They called me a “Curse” to the family.
Then I slowly realized that, I am being abandoned. I started attending school regularly. The kids around me expected miracles from me. But when I failed to deliver miracles, they called me “fake” and “cheat”. Then I stopped going to school. I stopped getting out of my house. I stayed mostly inside my room.
I can’t get back my lost childhood. My childhood was eaten up my greedy parents. What will I do? I tried to engage in reading and watching some shows and movies. But, the feeling of loneliness is haunting me. I can’t focus. Nobody wants me here in this world. I was all alone.
No child in this world should have my fate. Children, don’t try to be a prodigy child. Grow in the pace you are expected to grow. Don’t lose your childhood. Enjoy your days.
Good Bye!..
Yours, Child Prodigy!!
##################
[Do you like this story? Do you want to get notified when a new story is published ? Please click and like the Page “101 Stories” (You can search for it or click on this page icon].
If you are interested, you are welcome to join the short story group called “Everlasting Short Stories” and write your own stories or read stories from other authors]
Biju Vargheese (Pazhayedathu Paramban)
