Chapter 1
CHILD THINK THE LOVE STORY WRITTEN BY ROYAL SANU.
Hello and greetings, friends. My name is Royal Shanu. I am from India—specifically, I am a resident of the state of Bihar. I am deeply grateful to the Inkit Community for giving me the opportunity to share my story through a book; I extend my heartfelt thanks and gratitude to the community for this.
Friends, I am writing this book, *Child Think*, because it tells my true love story. It is the story of a boy who was very shy but, from childhood, harbored a desire to do something unique. He grew up in extreme poverty, yet he always dreamed of achieving something big. His parents had given him a playful, lighthearted name in his early years, but as he grew up, he adopted the name 'Royal Sanu' for himself.
Someone changed their name because they were constantly mocked for it during their school days—by friends, teachers, classmates, family, and even relatives; life had become a joke. Whenever someone made fun of the name in front of a girl in class, I felt like changing it immediately. Every teacher knew my name, and I was ridiculed in front of the entire class—boys and girls alike. I was desperate for self-respect. Friends, you came here to read a love story, but I am boring you by telling you my own tale.
That is why, friends, I named my book *Child Think: The Love Story*. It is about a child capable of achieving great things, whose self-esteem is shattered during childhood. Is it right to repeatedly wound the self-esteem of a child who is innocent and playful?
You might be wondering what that boy's name actually was—the name that caused people to mock him. Since this is a true story, I decided to share the name with you; otherwise, I would never have revealed such an embarrassing name. The boy's name was Pradum; people used to tease him by saying, "Pradum—*Kutta ka dum*" (Pradum—a dog's tail). There were many beautiful girls in the class, and I was in love with one of them, but I could never confess my feelings due to shyness. Later, I found out she was in love with someone else; her name was Komal. During my childhood, my maternal uncle had shown me an obscene movie, which made me develop a strong desire for sex.
I wanted a girl to love me deeply and for us to have sex, but I never found a girl who truly loved me. My maternal uncle had planted a distorted image of sex in my mind when I was just six years old. I was so shy that I was terrified of talking to girls; by the age of six, I had developed a hunger for sex, yet that craving remained unquenched. Ultimately, however, it wasn't just sex I was hungry for—it was love; I wanted to find someone who would love me.
There are six people in my family—my parents, my three brothers, and myself. As the eldest son, I was always the one blamed by everyone—my parents and my three brothers alike. My parents didn't blame me because I was in the wrong; they blamed me because they felt they knew exactly what I was like.
I made a huge mistake during my childhood, and because of it, my parents held me responsible for everything. Let me tell you how it happened. When I was about 10 or 11 years old, my uncle's sister-in-law—who was also around 10—was visiting us. Driven by curiosity to experiment sexually, I undressed her and climbed on top of her. The door was left open, and just as my father returned from work and opened the door, he caught me in that position. I had only just climbed onto her when I was discovered; I was young and naive, which is why I got caught. I had even told my three younger brothers—who were under my supervision—that I would go first and then it would be their turn, but nothing else happened; I was the only one caught by my father. I stood up, and the girl ran away. My father gave me a severe thrashing. My mother wasn't home at the time—she was visiting my maternal grandmother—but when she returned the next day and my father told her everything, she gave me a sound beating as well. After that incident, no one in the house trusted me anymore—neither my mother nor my father—and my self-confidence was completely shattered.
Right then, I made a promise to myself: come what may, I would never speak to a girl again and would keep a safe distance from them. I began to loathe the very idea of girls. I felt I had done something so terrible that I had no right to exist in this world; I even contemplated suicide. However, an inner strength repeatedly held me back. Today, I am deeply grateful for that strength—had it not stopped me, I would never have been able to write this book, *Child Thinker: The Love Story*.
