By Yin Nwe Ko
In the quiet town where I spent my childhood, there exists a memory that still echoes through the corridors of time. Sixty years ago, when I was just a 10-year-old, an incident unfolded that left an indelible mark on my young heart. It was a day of unexpected punishment, where the winds of family discord blew fiercely, and I, like a leaf caught in a storm, found myself at the mercy of the tempest.
In the innocence of youth, I committed an act that would unwittingly thrust me into the centre of my parents’ tumultuous relationship. Little did I know that accepting a 3 Kyats note from my aunt, the younger sister of my mom, would become the catalyst for an unforeseen storm in my tranquil world.
At that time, my parents were no longer together. Their separation cast a shadow over our home, creating an atmosphere thick with tension and bitterness. As a child, I struggled to grasp the complexities of their decision to go their separate ways, but I sensed an unspoken animosity that permeated the air.
One fateful day, my father, driven by emotions I could not comprehend, decided to punish me. It was a moment that marked both the beginning and end of his disciplinary actions. The severity of the beating left me bewildered, and I couldn’t fathom why he, for the first time, had chosen to express his anger in such a physical manner.
Under the trees in front of our house, I sat, an unwitting target of my father’s frustration. Bamboo sticks became the instruments of his discontent, breaking with each forceful strike. The pain was not just physical but symbolic of the fractures within our family. As the bamboo sticks shattered, so did any hope of a harmonious household.
Amidst the chaos, my grandmother emerged as a voice of reason. She implored my father to cease the beating, recognizing the destructive path we were on. The broken bamboo sticks lay as remnants of a futile attempt to mend not only my behaviour but the strained relationships that lingered in the air.
As I stood, punished and confused, I pondered whether accepting the pocket money from my aunt was truly a wrongdoing. In the simplicity of a child’s mind, I couldn’t comprehend the depth of my parents’ animosity. Was it my fault, or was I merely a casualty of the hatred that had taken root between my mom and dad?
Looking back, it becomes apparent that my seemingly innocent misstep was merely a spark that ignited the long-standing animosity between my parents. The hatred they harboured for each other manifested in the severity of my punishment, turning me into an unwitting pawn in their troubled relationship.
In the aftermath of that tumultuous day, my physical wounds healed, but the emotional scars lingered. As a child, I navigated the turbulent waters of my parents’ discord, learning to cope with the aftershocks of that pivotal moment. The broken bonds within my family took time to mend, and I became a silent observer of the ebb and flow of their strained relationship.
Now, I am 70, and my overall contemplation is about the hatred of my dad and mom. I happen to guess the hatred as follows:-
Hatred is a strong negative emotion that can profoundly affect individuals and communities. In this essay, we will explore what hatred is and how it can impact people’s lives. It is also a powerful feeling of intense dislike or hostility towards someone or something. It goes beyond simple disagreements or differences and can lead to harmful actions and behaviours.
Hatred can have a significant impact on individuals emotionally. When someone harbours hatred, it often consumes their thoughts and feelings, creating a constant state of negativity. This emotional burden can lead to stress, anxiety, and even physical health issues.
Hatred can strain relationships between individuals and within communities. When people hold onto strong negative feelings, it becomes challenging to build understanding and empathy. Friendships, family bonds, and even entire communities can be fractured by the corrosive effects of hatred.
Hatred can influence people’s behaviour in harmful ways. It may lead to acts of aggression, discrimination, and even violence. When individuals are fuelled by hatred, they are more likely to engage in destructive actions, causing harm to themselves and those around them.
One of the most significant impacts of hatred is its ability to prevent understanding. When people harbour strong negative feelings, they are less inclined to listen to differing perspectives or seek common ground. This lack of understanding can hinder social harmony and cooperation.
I remember a time when my parents were filled with hatred toward each other due to their differences. The atmosphere at home became tense, and it affected everyone in the family. Simple conversations turned into arguments, and the once warm and loving home became a place filled with negativity.
Hatred is not limited to individual relationships; it can extend to entire communities. When groups of people harbour hatred towards each other based on differences such as race, religion, or nationality, it can lead to conflicts and divisions that persist for generations.
In the face of hatred, cultivating compassion becomes crucial. Compassion involves understanding others’ perspectives, even when they differ from our own. By promoting compassion, we can work towards building bridges instead of walls, fostering unity and understanding.
In addition, hatred is a destructive force that can have far-reaching effects on individuals and communities. Recognizing the emotional toll, strained relationships, behavioural impact, and the prevention of understanding are essential steps in addressing and overcoming hatred. By fostering compassion and promoting understanding, we can work towards creating a more harmonious and inclusive world.
Thinking about all these memories and the article I am currently mentioning, it becomes clear that hatred is like a heavy cloud that brings darkness into people’s lives. I can see now that my parents’ hatred had a big impact on our family, just like the essay says.
Hatred is not just a feeling between individuals; it can spread like wildfire, affecting entire communities. Looking back on my parents’ disagreements, I see how it turned our once warm home into a place filled with tension and arguments. Simple talks turned into fights, and it made everyone feel unhappy.
The article also talks about how hatred can hurt not only our feelings but also our health. It made me think about the stress and anxiety I felt as a child, caught in the middle of my parents’ struggles. Those feelings stayed with me even as I grew older.
But, as I reflect on my own story, I realize that there’s a way to make things better. The essay suggests that compassion, which means understanding others even when they are different, is an essential tool against hatred. By being kind and trying to understand one another, we can create a world where everyone feels happy and accepted.
So, let’s learn from the past and work towards a future filled with warmth and friendship. As I am now 70, I hope for a world where people choose understanding over hatred, creating a place where families and communities can thrive in harmony. In the end, love and compassion can heal the wounds of the past and lead us to a brighter and happier tomorrow.
The story of my childhood serves as a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, even in the face of familial discord. In the simplicity of a child’s perspective, I grappled with the fallout of my parents’ separation, becoming a bystander caught in the crossfire of their unresolved emotions. As we reflect on the journey through family challenges, may we find compassion for the children who, like me, navigate the complexities of fractured relationships, striving to make sense of a world overshadowed by adult discord?
