6 Chapter 6: When I was 8

When I was a little boy, 8 years old, I used to go out in the open farms my father owned and run in my long boots. My father had bought them for me. Moreover, I used to wear the pyjamas my mother had stitched for me. The Kurtas my mom stitched used to be all out of proportion and I could never fit into them. She made them either too big or too small. My aunt always repaired the big ones and gave them for me to wear. My mother was always was so pissed with her because she wanted the sentiments to remain. She was always asking my Aunt to back off and let her do whatever she wanted to do for her kids. My aunt was younger than her, so she had to obey my mother. It wasn't long before my mother treated her like a maid. Like a person who needed to do what had been told to her because she was a queen and my aunt was a slave. She worked like this for a long time because she felt that it was right. I knew it wasn't good or right. Whatever my Aunt felt, I was now feeling too. I had been my Boss's servant without asking what was right and ignoring every wrong work. Even when I knew I was going to take a short way, which was dangerous and illegal, I did it because my boss had asked me to do it. I did everything for him and I never got caught. At least I thought so. I now knew what my aunt had felt once. To do wrong things for a queen who then led her to taking her life. I swear my aunt had cried nights together because she knew she had to suffer the torture to be with the people she valued and loved. This was what made us different. I had never loved my colleagues. Yes, I liked them. But that doesn't mean I had to love them. I was unhappy that they were going to be interrogated for my doings. But I didn't love them.