Imprisoned

The sun was obscured by the clouds but the escaping rays reminded Sarah of its presence. They gave the cloud a silver lining. Exhausted and lying down on the bed her legs still dangling from the bedside underneath the window, with her biology book in her hands, she looked out. She could hear children playing outside laughing, screaming, light as feathers. And all of a sudden she had had enough. She sat up angrily and the book, which was being ignored for the past five minutes, fell into her lap. The weight of it reminded her of its presence and she looked down. It was almost like an angry revelation made her realize that this book was the source of her misery right now. She stood up even more angrily grabbing the book simultaneously; she tossed it away with disgust. It hit the cupboard and fell open. Sarah rushed past it, yanked the door open and ran down the stairs, angry energy emanating from her like heat.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs she turned right, crossed the hall and entered the TV lounge where her mom was bending down on her little sister. She looked up in alarm and relaxed a little when she saw Sarah standing on the door arms crossed, grimacing.

“Break time darling? Do you want something to eat?”

Sarah looked at her mom,

“YOU KNOW WHAT’S NOT FAIR? THAT WE HAVE TO STUDY ALL THE TIME. IT’S JUST NOT FAIR. WHY THE FUCK DO WE HAVE TO SIT AND SIT AND SIT AND SIT ALL THE FUCKING TIME? WHY CAN’T I GO OUT AND FUCKING PLAY LIKE A REAL KID? I’M YOUNG WHY AM I NOT ALLOWED TO USE MY FUCKING MUSCLES TO RUN AROUND? WHAT USE ARE MY FUCKING YOUNG MUSCLES WHEN I JUST HAVE TO SIT ALL THE FUCKING DAY AND STUDY? I WANT TO RUN AND PLAY AND JUMP AND SCREM AND CRY AND YELL AND FIGHT BUT I CAN’T DO THAT! YOU KNOW WHY? BECAUSE I HAVE TO FUCKING.STUDY.ALL.THE.TIME.”

Her mom looked at her with a mixture of alarmed surprise and disapproval. Her baby sister had forgotten Barney and was looking at the new source of this loud noise with interest, her chubby little fists suspended in mid air along with the red heart shaped spoon held by her mother which was about to make its way into her mouth. Her mother straightened but the spoon was still suspended,

“Darling maybe you should take a…”

“HAVE YOU SEEN THE WEATHER OUTSIDE? HAVE YOU? IT’S WINDY. IT’S FUCKING WINDY AND CLOUDY AND IT’S FUCKING PERFECT. YOU KNOW WHAT YOURE SUPPOSED TO DO IN WEATHER LIKE THIS? ENJOY IT. FUCKING ENJOY IT. YOURE SUPPOSED TO LIE DOWN ON THE GRASS AND LOOK UP AND ADMIRE NATURE. BUT NO. WE’RE SUPPOSED TO FUCKING IGNORE EVERYTHING THAT WOULD MAKE US HAPPY AND LOOK AT WORDS TELLING US WHAT THE WEATHER OUTSIDE LOOKS LIKE. WE’RE SUPPOSED TO READ HOW THE FUCKING CLOUDS ARE MADE BUT WE ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FUCKING ENJOY THEM. WE’RE SUPPOSED TO READ FUCKING EDGAR ALLAN POE DESCRIBE THE PERFECT WEATHER BUT WE ARE NOT FUCKING SUPPOSED TO SEE AND FEEL THE PERFECT WEATHER OURSELVES SO WE CAN WRITE ABOUT IT TOO. NO WHY SHOULD WE DO THAT? OBVIOUSLY LEARING ABOUT FUCKING CHROMOSOMES IS GOING TO HELP ME IN LIFE RATHER THAN GOING OUT AND OBSERVING HOW ALL HUMANS ARE DIFFERENT BECAUSE OF DIFFERENT CHROMOSOMAL PATTERNS. THIS FUCKING STUDYING KILLS OUR CREATIVITY. IT KILLS EVERYTHING THAT MAKES US HUMANS.  IT IS TURNING US INTO ROBOTS!  MINDLESS WITH LOADS OF USELESS INFORMATION”

Sarah’s mom was looking at her patiently. Now it was Sarah’s turn to feel a little embarrassed. She did use fucking quite a lot. SO FUCKING WHAT? NOW I DON’T EVEN HAVE THE FUCKING RIGHT TO EXPRESS MY FEELINGS? She crossed the room and slumped on the sofa quite a distance away from her mother and her baby sister. Arms still crossed she started glaring at Barney running around singing songs about happiness.

Amna resumed waving her tiny hands in mid air. Her mom dipped the spoon in the porridge bowl and put it on the table some distance away from Amna so she wouldn’t knock it down. She then walked over to Sarah, sat next to her and wrapped her arms around her. Sarah rested her head on her mom’s shoulders and unwillingly, angry tears made their way across her face.

“It’s not fair. Why am I being forced to do something I don’t want to?”

Her mom tried to soothe her,

“It’s for your own good darling.”

Sarah abruptly removed her head from her mother’s shoulder and sat up straight. Her nerve had been tweaked again. She was struggling to remain calm even though her tear-stained face was red again and her voice was trembling,

“It’s not for my own good. What would have been good for me was if everything was balanced. If I could work physically and mentally both, at the same time, that would have been good for me. What the hell is wrong with you adults? You think studying this much is good for us? You think our main aim in life should be to study? THAT WE SHOULD NOT ENJOY OUR FUCKING LIFE AND JUST STUDY IN THE HOPES THAT IT WILL DO US SOME GOOD? DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW I FEEL RIGHT NOW? I FEEL SO FUCKING TRAPPED. I FEEL LIKE I’M IN A FUCKING PRISON AND ITS SO FUCKING SMALL THAT I CAN’T FUCKING EVEN MOVE MY BODY I’M SO TRAPPED IN ALL THIS. DON’T YOU GET IT? IT’S LIKE FUCKING TORTURE TO ME. I WANT TO RUN AND JUMP AND SCREAM SO BAD AND I CAN’T DO THAT. I’M BEING FORCED INTO CAGING MYSELF BECAUSE MY VERY CONSIDERATE ELDERS TELL ME THAT IS WHAT IS GOOD FOR ME. I’M NOT HAPPY MOM! WHY DON’T I HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE HAPPY? IT’S NOT FAIR. WHY CAN’T STUDYING BE BALANCED WITH ENJOYMENT? YOU KNOW WE ALL WOULD BE HAPPY IF WE COULD STUDY AND DO OTHER THINGS TOO! WE WOULD STUDY BETTER IF WE HAD THE TIME TO ENJOY OURSELVES TOO! IF WE HAD TIME TO EXPRESS OUR SELVES! IF WE HAD TIME TO UNDERSTAND AND THINK ABOUT OURSELVES AND OTHERS AROUND US! YOU DON’T GIVE US ANY TIME TO THINK ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE!”

Her temper had gotten the worst of her and she hadn’t even realized that she was standing and screaming at her mom with her little sister’s full attention. She was breathing rapidly. Her adrenaline was pumping her up so she started walking in the room. To and fro. To and fro.

“It’s just not fair. No mom. Tell me why can’t we study a little less and also enjoy our lives? Why are we given the ultimatum that we can either study OR we can enjoy our lives? Why can’t we do both? Why can’t we enjoy our lives in the age when we actually CAN enjoy our lives?

To and fro. To and fro.

“It’s not at all fair. I don’t want this kind of life. Spend your entire youth buried in books suppressing your energies killing your excitement and spend your adulthood worrying about other things. You adults just absolutely love to complain how young people are not using their energies for the right causes and you don’t even give us a chance to prove you wrong. Why won’t you let us express our energies? Why don’t you give us an outlet? Why do you force us to channel them in the wrong direction?”

She stopped and looked at her mom beseechingly hoping that she would have answers. She SHOULD have answers. She is one of those adults who are so busy making sure that Pakistani education yields absolutely no rewards by making the students more knowledgeable and also, that the students don’t spend a moment of their lives doing anything else but wasting their time studying.

“Darling you do know you don’t have to study if you don’t want to right?”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? OFCOURSE I HAVE TO STUDY! I WANT GOOD GRADES MOM AND YOU CANNOT GET GOOD GRADES IF YOU DON’T STUDY! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY KIDDING ME? EVEN IF I DO DECIDE TO TAKE A BREAK MOST OF THAT BREAK WILL BE SPENT WORRYING ABOUT HOW I’M NOT STUDYING! THAT’S NOT RELAXING! AND IT’S NOT BECAUSE I LIKE WORRYING MOM IT’S BECAUSE I HAVE NO OTHER OPTION! EVERY FRIGGIN YEAR IT GETS TOUGHER AND TOUGHER AND ALL YOU ADULTS DO IS PROUDLY TELL PEOPLE HEY ITS GETTING TOUGHER AND TOUGHER BUT MY KID GOT SUCH GOOD GRADES. IT’S ALL ABOUT THE GOOD GRADES ISN’T IT? WHO CARES IF WE ARE ATTAINING KNOWLEDGE? EVERYONE JUST WANTS GOOD GRADES SO WE HAVE TO RUN AFTER THEM BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT WE HAVE BEEN TRAINED TO DO ALL OUR LIVES! DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH OF OURSELVES WE HAVE TO KILL TO GET GOOD GRADES? WE KILL OUR IDEAS MOM! WE KILL OUR IDEAS OF FUN, OF ENJOYMENT, OF WANTING TO BE HAPPY, FOR STUPID STUDIES. WE KILL OUR CREATIVITY! WHO CARES IF YOU CAN WRITE POEMS AS GOOD AS STUPID JOHN KEATS HIMSELF? NO YOU SHOULD JUST CONTAIN YOURSELVES TO STUDYING JOHN KEATS’ POEMS! AND INSTEAD OF MAKING IT EASIER FOR US YOU MAKE IT EVEN MORE DIFFICULT. AND IT’S NOT LIKE WE’RE BEING GIVEN SOME HIGHLY TECHNICAL EDUCATION WHICH WILL HELP MOULD OUR BRAINS TO THINK CRITICALLY! ITS PURE ULTIMATE SHIT! THE MOMENT WE ARE DONE WITH OUR EXAMS WE FORGET EVERYTHING BECAUSE IT’S JUST NOT USEFUL! ITS PURE UTTER USELESS CRAP! WE’RE BEING TRAINED TO NOT QUESTION WHAT WE ARE LEARNING! HOW CAN WE REMEMBER SOMETHING WE DON’T THINK IS USEFUL FOR US? YOU THINK IT’S A GOOD THING THAT KINTERGARDEN STUDENTS ARE BEING FORCED TO STUDY ALL DAY? DO YOU THINK IT’S RIGHT TO FORCE SO MUCH ON THE KIDS THAT THEY EVEN FORGET HOW TO PLAY?”

Her mom returned her glare with a calm look.

“Sorry honey, it’s not just you who has been through it. Everyone has. I have. This is just the way it is.”

“Oh wow! Excellent mom absolutely brilliant. So basically I’m supposed to suffer like this because that’s what everyone has gone through. Can you even hear yourself? You talk about “getting through” studies! You’re not supposed to “get through” your studies mom! You are supposed to learn something! You’re supposed to enjoy learning! This is sick. You know it’s wrong and all you can say is that I have to go through with it because everyone does. You won’t even do anything about it. You should hear my teachers talk about it. All they can say is “Oh what can I do? The “System” is wrong! Well guess what? YOU ARE THE SYSTEM! HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE THAT? HOW CAN YOU BE SO BLIND? You adults are always trying to blame it on the system. So you would be spared the necessity of actually getting up and doing some repairs. You’re what is wrong with this society. All you can teach your children is that they should go along with everything because everyone goes along with it. You make me sick.”

Sarah concluded and slumped on the sofa again at a little distance from her mom.

Darling you know you have the freedom to do whatever you want I’ve never stopped you from doing anything.”

Sarah remained silent still breathing heavily. She resumed after a little pause, her voice cracked from screaming.

“I know mom. I know you let me do stuff. But I don’t have time to do stuff! I want time to do stuff! Don’t you get it? First I study seven hours in school then I come home and I have to study again because seven hours isn’t enough for the amount of things we study at school! I have to study at home too I have to revise and I keep studying and studying and studying until there is no time left to do anything else. And If I don’t study I won’t get good grades mom! Don’t you see how I’m stuck here? I want to get good grades and I want time to enjoy myself why can’t I do both? Even the weekends aren’t spared! Weekends are supposed to be relaxing but our teachers think they are doing us a great favor by giving us tests on Mondays. So we can study “easily” during the weekend. There is no such thing as studying easily okay? Its studies! Why do they think they are doing us a favor? It’s NOT a favor. They are making us study when we don’t have to; when we are not required to. Don’t you see how they have trapped us? There is no escape! All you can do is study study study and nothing else! You adults are creating mindless zombies who can’t handle real life because we are not even given a chance to experience real life! ”

Silence pervaded the room. Now the sky was cloudless and the sun shone again through the windows. It was steadily getting hot. Outside, the playful voices started dying out. Everyone started seeking refuge in the shade. Sarah’s mom kept sitting silently. Amna kept yelping playfully. And Sarah kept expecting her mom to give a reasonable explanation for why she has to go back to her room and study.

Silence.

Slowly, Sarah got up, left the lounge, climbed the stairs and entered her room. The biology book was still lying there. Open. Supposedly welcoming Sarah to come and seek knowledge within. Sarah picked up the book and sat down on her bed.

        Robert Whittaker’s five kingdom classification of living things…

Because there was no other option.