The Past 1
819 Words
Twenty-one years ago, in the restless, glowing city of Mumbai,
a girl was born into a house that had never known the sound of a daughter’s cry.
For a brief moment…
everything felt perfect.
Wrapped in soft cloth and innocence, the newborn slept peacefully in her father’s arms—unaware that the world she had entered would not always be kind to her.
Her father looked at her as if she were a miracle.
His eyes shone with pride, something rare and unguarded.
He kissed her tiny forehead and whispered softly,
“I will protect you.”
It was a promise.
A beautiful one.
But no one told the child—
that sometimes, protection slowly turns into control…
and control… into power.
Her mother, a woman of quiet beauty and quieter strength, lay resting on the bed nearby. Life had already begun shaping her into patience.
Within days, the family had to move.
Duty called.
Her father, a man bound to the discipline of the army, left with responsibility heavier than emotion.
And her mother followed—because that is what she had been taught to do.
Follow. Adjust. Endure.
Before leaving, they gave the child a name.
Sravani.
A name that sounded like rain… gentle, soothing, full of life.
But names, like promises, carry expectations.
And expectations… often come with limits.
Years passed quietly.
By the time Sravani turned three, the distance between presence and absence had already begun to form.
Her father came and went like a visitor in her life.
Her mother carried the weight of everything in silence.
And somewhere between waiting and understanding,
Sravani learned something most children her age never should:
Not everyone who loves you… stays.
School became her escape.
With doe-shaped eyes and curly hair framing her face, she quickly became noticeable—
a child people admired.
But admiration, too, came with rules.
“Sit properly.”
“Girls should behave.”
Every compliment had a condition.
Every smile had a boundary.
At home, things were different.
Or perhaps… clearer.
She watched.
That’s what she did best.
She watched how her younger siblings were treated differently.
How her chote papa showered his children with affection—effortlessly, openly.
chote papa- her uncle(father's brother)
Something she and her brother Advik rarely received.
Not because they were unloved.
But because love, in their world, was never shown the same way.
Her mother worked endlessly—trying to hold her place in a house where effort didn’t always translate to respect.
Her badi maa and choti maa focused only on their own children.
And Sravani?
She stood somewhere in between.
Present.
But unnoticed.
(badi maa and choti maa- her aunt's)
Mistakes, even small ones, didn’t go unnoticed.
They were corrected.
Sometimes with words.
Sometimes with silence.
Sometimes with pain.
And slowly—
Sravani and Advik stopped believing in something they never fully received.
Not toys. Not gifts. Not even birthdays.
But love that felt like theirs.
It wasn’t that their father didn’t care.
He brought them things.
Gifts. Toys. Comforts.
But what they really wanted…
was him.
His time.
His attention.
His presence.
Because a child doesn’t remember what you give them.
They remember whether you stayed.
At fifteen, life demanded its first major decision.
Or at least… it should have.
BiPC or MPC.(A doctor or a engineer)
A choice between passion and practicality.
A choice that could define her future.
Sravani didn’t hesitate.
She loved animals.
She wanted to become a veterinary doctor.
It wasn’t just a dream—
it was one of the few things that felt truly hers.
But the decision was never really hers to make.
Her father chose.
MPC.
Engineering.
A “better” future.
A “safer” path.
And just like that—
her first dream ended before it could even begin.
She didn’t argue.
She didn’t cry.
She didn’t fight.
She accepted.
Like she always did.
Meanwhile, her brother was given a choice.
Freedom to decide.
Freedom to explore.
And Sravani?
She was told what was best for her.
Strangely, she didn’t feel anger.
Not immediately.
Just a quiet understanding settling inside her—
Some lives are chosen…
and some are decided.
She moved forward.
MPC.
Then engineering.
A college that wasn’t extraordinary.
A university that didn’t stand out.
But for the first time—
she found something different.
Friends.
People who laughed without conditions.
Who spoke without fear.
Who didn’t measure her worth before accepting her.
And suddenly, that “small” college…
felt like the biggest place in the world.
Because for once—
Sravani wasn’t invisible.
But even then…
something inside her remained unchanged.
She still didn’t ask for more.
Still didn’t expect too much.
Still didn’t believe that anything good would stay forever.
Because somewhere, deep inside—
the little girl who was once promised protection…
had already learned the truth.
Not all promises are meant to be kept.
---🦋
- Writer
