I Had A Dream......

From my early childhood, I had many dreams & I wanted all of them to come true. I dreamt that I was a Cardiologist with surplus money to last me through the entire lifetime. I should have a decorated lovely apartment in Bradenton, Florida with 2 luxury cars- one, a sports car & the other, a saloon car, a sedan or coupe. A loving darling of a wife, 2 kids, my parents would fill up my near-to-perfect life. Famous, as I naturally would be, people should gape at me whenever I pass them or appear in interviews or product-promotions. But, I didn’t intend to headline the covers of all magazines or newspapers, because in a way, I fear publicity & celebrity status.
I was very open to the idea of having kids, in this era of hush-hush life, speeding like nuclear machines through the days & nights, no time to enjoy a couple of weeks in Hawaii or Paris or Amsterdam. But, that didn’t mean I would indulge in sexual acts with any girl until I was happily married. Actually, I was a little shy from pre-marriage physical relationships. It always, according to me, upsets your morals, you don’t know for certain she would be your life partner, & so in a way, you’re cheating on her. Needles to say, I had crushes on many a girl, including celebrities like Tennis icon Russian bombshell Maria Sharapova, who lived in my neighborhood & Emma Watson, the witty Harry Potter heroine.
Standing at 1.83 meters & weighing 79 Kgs, I was compared to a midget, in front of those tall hunky Americans who grow up like grapevines.

I, an Indian, was born in Marion, Ohio, a small town 50 kilometers from the capital city of Columbus. My father was the GM of a multi-national company, my mother, a housewife. When I was 6, we’d to shift to Rochester, New York & then at 12, we finally settled in Bradenton, the exquisitely embellished town in Florida. I was sent to a boarding school, not much to my liking, & people seldom used to talk to me because of my oppressive nature. Away from home, I felt like a freak amidst these morons. That changed, once I came across Maria Sharapova, who unlike today was a little girl, timid & afraid, concealing herself in the superlative beauty radiating from her body. It was love at first sight. Whenever, I returned home on vacation, most of time was dedicated to her. She, a Russian, couldn’t speak English very well, so; instead I’d to learn the Russian language to impress upon her. My mind would toil for hours striving to grasp the basics of the language, but my intense concentration & zeal paid off splendid results. I would stare at her, a lasting look that foretold the immense feelings I’d for her. When, at 15, I proposed, she turned me down immediately, so, I threatened to commit suicide. The result, a criminal record against me. Then, after that, it was a topsy-turvy roller coaster ride, & I never got to take her in my arms.
***********************************


Now, at 41, the old memories inundate back to my battered mind. Though I accomplished my task & aim to be a Cardiologist by graduating from Harvard Medical College in Cambridge, Massachusetts & then post-graduating from Columbia University, I’ve literally forgotten the meaning of a happy life.
Married to Anjali, the only daughter of an NRI for the past 15 years, my body has been reduced to a hapless bloodied mess. Screams & yells are a part of her nature, & she can’t stay without them, the object of victimization being her husband. Fatigued from my day’s work, when I return to my lair to obtain some rest, hell sets in.
“Why have you kept your shoes there on the right-side corner?” “Did you bring me a nice expensive diamond ring for Valentine’s day?” “When will you take me out to the Bistriz?” Man, her whole list of interrogation seems unending. And each time, I do something right, she accuses me of the wrongs connected to it.
I owned three cars, a BMW, a Jaguar, & a Mercedes. Though I drive myself; for my sons, & my pesky wife, I was forced to appoint a chauffeur. It seems “The Ghost Of Nightmares” haunts me. The other day, I was threatened to have my car thrashed, if I fail to save a dying patient, who had less than 0.1% chance of surviving. He had cardiovascular melanoma, a cerebral haemorhhage & a renal failure.
“How can I save him?” I protested, “I can only prolong his agony by putting him under life-supporting system.”
They wouldn’t let me do that, so he died & now I have my Mercedes mutilated beyond recognition. A case in court.

Now, I come to my sons. I am worried to death about them. Raj & Raman. 14 & 12. Both of them are disobedient & unforgiving. If I scold them, as I definitely should, they take vengeance.
Raj was charged of, oh my god, of raping a classmate, because she refused to be his date, & has been detained under custody & would not be granted bail so easily for he is a non-American. Another case in court.
As for Raman, he is as vindictive as his elder brother.
Last Thursday, I received a call in my cell to cough up $250,000 as ransom for his release. I was devastated. Not because of the money, but, thinking of his safety like an ideal father. I paid the money clandestinely as was advised & brought him back. Anjali didn’t think I had to worry so much for a mere thing like that. That Sunday, when Raman was out, a SMS came in his cell asking him to take his share of $50,000 of his father’s money. Imagine, a 12-year-old boy framing his own kidnapping! When I confronted him, he narrated the whole planning, stating that he had to do it because I wouldn’t increase his weekly allowance to $1,000 form $250.
My wife, somehow, found out that I had a crush on Maria Sharapova & exaggerated the fact to a point of intolerance.
“I’m so loyal to you. How could you ever think of doing this to me?” she bellowed.
I tried to explain, it was a pre-marital affair, but it proved a futile attempt. The next day, I discovered her boyfriend, she kissing him passionately in public.
I filed for a divorce. But, she demanded $1 million & our two sons, a car, & 50% of our house, plus monthly payment of $25,000 to her bank account!
I have also been asked to resign from my post as senior Cardiologist by the Hospital Authorities for my recent bad publicity.

So, here I am now, looking 70, worn down by the constant nagging questions of journalists & exhausted of seeing the newspapers writing juicy shocking articles about my personal life.

I also heard that Maria Sharapova has married her fellow tennis star Marat Safin, & has moved to Sochi, a resort town in the Black Sea region of Russia.

I pray to go to Heaven, to stop this tyranny, but I think the Lord has also conspired against me to punish me in Heaven.
Who says, “Life is a gift of God?”
To me, “LIFE IS A HELLISH EXPERIENCE WITH MENTAL & PHYSICAL
TRAUMA.”