This time my marriage broke up a total of thirteen times. Every time everything went well, my marriage broke up for only one reason. The reason, of course, is not too short. I am the adopted child of my parents and this is the main reason for breaking up my marriage. Why not? The man I loved, the man who loved me is gone for the same reason.
The pain of breaking up these five or ten marriages is not really a matter for me as deep as the wound inside my chest. He who does not have his own parents in the world, who does not know who his parents really are, cannot be affected by ordinary hardships like other human beings in his life.
When I was one and a half years old, a man came and dropped me off at the Mission Orphanage. Since then I have grown up with ten more orphans. I was adopted by a childless couple when I was six years old. Currently my parents.
From a young age, I had only one thought in my mind, what do my parents look like? Why did you leave me in the mission orphanage. Am I an anonymous father? If my father's identity is not there, then why should he be left on a mission at the age of one and a half? And who left me? Are the parents alive or dead? Etc. I grew up with questions. However, the man who left me on the mission did not say my name. I was very curious to know the name of my mother?
My foster parents love me very much. No one will understand that I am their adopted child. Yet the pregnant mother is the mother, can anyone else take her place? This Mao of mine loves me very much, I also love my mother very much, yet I feel the tension of my pulse, once I feel pain in my chest to see my mother with both eyes full. All other feelings in the world are insignificant to this feeling.
Although I have gone through everything without an identity, this identity has not been very useful in the case of marriage. This cherished identity of mine was also completely useless in the case of love.
Arha was introduced to varsity. We were in the same department. Of course he was my one year senior. Because of my cherished life and my quiet nature, I tried to hide from my friends. I find happiness alone. Basically I didn't know if it was fun to hang out with friends.
Arh sometimes wanted to talk to me in the library. I avoided it all the time. But Jolly Mind's son was trying to catch me. The reality is that anything that looks good over and over again is good for a while. No matter how ugly it is. I once became friends with Arhar. Arh was of the very agile type. I used to laugh and joke all the time. In my lonely stagnant time, Arh gave me a noisy face environment. My habit of being alone changed. I didn't want to spend my time without Arh.
One day after a year, Arh suddenly said to me- "I think I fell in love with you, Nayana. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I remember you for the first time! Aren't you going to be my 'you'?"
I was scared of his words. Love is a fear of losing. I was terrified of losing a friend like him in one fell swoop. I told him that day about my anonymous life. Arh heard everything that day and left without saying anything. For about a week he had no contact with me. I did not communicate with him on my own. Why should I contact? I am not responsible for my orphan life!
A week later, Arh called me and asked me to meet him. Then he said, "No, I love you, I want to love you all my life. You can't love me, can you?"
Hearing his words, my eyes got wet that day. I also felt proud that love had come into the life of an insignificant woman like me.
From then on, he walked with his hand. For five years, our feelings of love have taken on new colors. For a moment, Arh did not let me realize that our relationship was old. All the time she has embraced me in a new way in the colors of love.
Then came the time of marriage. Her parents came from her house to see me and put on a ring. The wedding date was also fixed two weeks later. I thought Arh might have told her parents about my upbringing. And they knowingly agreed to the marriage. But my idea was wrong, as if someone had told them that I had been brought in from the mission. After hearing this, Arhar's parents came to this house again and then they synced in various ways.
They questioned my birth, whether I had a legitimate father at all. They questioned my mother's character. They questioned my religion, whether I was really a Muslim or not. They questioned my heirs, whether I would own any property or not.
In the midst of so many questions, I was devastated. My current parents were bowing in shame and disrespect. Arhar's role was a silent spectator. I was surprised to think that day, the man who had wrapped me in love is the man who is speechless today! Isn't that weird?
That was my first marriage breakup. Which has not only been broken but also marked.
Arh was calling one day after that. The boy wanted to say something. Maybe he wanted to say sorry or he couldn't manage his family, maybe all these bizarre excuses. I didn't hear anything. I'm not sure if this is the case, but I'm not sure if this is the case, but I'm not sure if this is the case, but I'm not sure if this is the case.
I don't see any bravery in blaming the man of love and proving him disgusting. Love is that man is innocent to me. I have no bad comments about him, why should I make bad comments? Can she make me feel bad just because she didn't marry me? I can't, I can't do anything. I can't think of him as a traitor, I can't think of him as a deceiver and a deceiver, I can't, I can't.
I still don't understand if Arhar was to blame for this incident. Can he be shaved? What good is a web site if it simply "blends in" with everything else out there?
Twelve more marriages have broken down since then for the same reason. After my three marriages broke up, my parents told me to leave the city and keep it a secret from then on, but I did not agree. Because the life that begins with a lie is not a life at all. And all my life I will live in a state of panic for fear of that lie, I don't want that.
But I don't have any problem with this thirteen broken marriage. It hurts me a lot but it hurts a thousand times more when I can't see my mother's face in my eyes. When I don't understand what my mother's face looks like. When I can't finish thinking about what my father looks like! Who do I look like? Like father or mother? Do I have any more brothers and sisters? In the face of a thousand such questions, I am again and again unmarked.
I didn't have a single teddy bear in that orphanage when all the children were sleeping with teddy bears on their chests. There was no one to feed me at the time when mothers forced their babies to eat. For all these accumulated hardships of my life, the grief of breaking up those thirteen marriages is not really a grief at all.
If life were like a novel, maybe Arh would come back to my life again. We used to build houses and decorate the family with the sweetness of the mind. We used to name their sons and daughters. Sometimes I would quarrel with Arhar and go to my father's house. Then Arh would break my anger and take me back. But the reality is not like in the novel, that the twist of the story will turn in another direction. By the end of the story, I will be able to know the identity of my own parents. Mom's face once, I can only see once! I will end it by saying Happy Ending to everyone happily together.
The reality is that I am a dreamless man without identity, who will never know his birth identity. Whose lost love will never come back and surprise you. Whose life will never come back, never!