Dear Diary

You know when you have dreams that are so strange that when you wake up you’re like ‘the fuck was that’? Yeah. Last night I had a dream that I was a member of the Straw Hat Pirates. And we were up against Big Mum. I was hiding in some closet. I woke up screaming in Japanese thinking I’d died.

So anyway. My dad had a flight to Kolkata today morning. He’s going to Chennai because of his rheumatoid arthritis. A regular check up. It costs a lot. But the actual problem is he doesn’t take the medicine properly. He doesn’t have the basic medical knowledge that everyone does. Everyone knows arthritis needs to be treated immediately, but Dad refused. Various silly reasons. He doesn’t like doctors but he refuses to take mum with him because ‘women aren’t supposed to leave the kitchen’. He asked a few other people, but no one actually likes him enough to accompany him. Mum says it’s sad but he’s too much of a bully for me to feel bad for him. It took mum and me ages to convince him to go to a doctor. He doesn’t think our opinions are important enough to be noticed so he didn’t care until he was in serious pain. And then he had to visit the doctor a second time with mum because he’s too stupid to understand what the doctor said. That second visit took a lot of convincing too. He was too vain to admit that he didn’t understand what the doctor said and when I told him that he was making a mistake he hit me. So I told mum he could do whatever he wanted. But Mum said ‘he’s the one who pays for our things and we need the money’. So back to begging. He can’t even take care of his medicines and doses, makes mum buy his medicines because he’s always too rude to the doctor, and a bunch of stuffs. And instead of being grateful, he acts as though he’s doing mum a favour. Mum got so upset once and I told him to stop doing it and he said something like, ‘I’m your father and you’re a child, you have no right to talk back to me like that.’ I’m actually translating this from Bangla. It was really really rude and hurtful when he said it in Bangla. I can’t get it right here, sorry. But it’s just that I’m so tired of him. And of mum defending him all the time. If I ever point out anything she’d say ‘it’s not like you don’t have any flaws, you do that too, you’re really nasty too.’ So I try to keep quiet. But that doesn’t change anything, does it? He never cares, he’s always like that. I once wanted to tell someone when I was little. I don’t remember who. But mum shushed me and when we got home, I received a good thrashing from her for lying and saying bad things about my parents. I learnt to keep quiet after a few more incidents like that. I remember mum used to lock the doors and windows and I’d just stand there waiting for it to begin and when she’d finally stop she’d tell me not to tell anyone or else she’d do it again.
I thought I’d confess here because no one who knows me would ever read this. I really had to get this off my chest.

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