As a vegetable seller in a fancy dress competition. I cried and forgot my lines. I was 6 years old. I never participated in any co-curricular competition again.
Of having a crush every second day. of having to talk to the crushes and feeling the flutters.
As a co-host in school at the age of 12. I was tongue tied as my co-host had been my love interest for more than 6 years. It is more than a decade. He is getting married to his childhood sweetheart and I am having a good laugh thinking about my crush on him...
As a lead dancer for teachers day at 13. Two classmates were in the center position. The principal of my school put me ahead of the rest seeing us perform. That was the last time i participated in a dance competition.
As a kho kho player. I belonged to the Saturn house. We won. We played again next term. We lost. I never participated again.
As the only girl who went away with a class boy to get something for his sister on a school trip. It was unethical according to the headmistress. It was unimportant to discuss according to me.
As the only person who when asked by the head mistress 'How would your dad react if he knew you went out with a boy all alone?' reply 'My dad wont mind. He trusts me.'
As the only girl whose dad was called to school for outrageously disobedient behavior during the Mount Abu trip. Dad told the headmistress what I'd told her.
As the girl who was looked at with disgust for going out alone with a class boy to get something for his sister.
As the one who scored the highest in English in school that board year. I am proud of that achievement. Friends and teachers dint appreciate. I couldn't care less. I left the school and never went back.
As an orator on the eve of my Aarangetram. The confident words that flowed, the stage fear that wasn't, the pin-drop silence and the applaud. The tears in my English tuition teacher's eyes and pride in her voice. I still have that speech with me.
As the girl in red suit who won the Miss Fresher in first year college.
As the girl who could spend hours with R and not hate him. Classmates warned me, teachers too. I dint pay attention. Being asked to choose between me or him is a part of my life. And so is choosing.
As the only girl who hung out with the 'boys everyone warns you about'. I loved spending time with them. I could listen to their jokes because I could crack lots in return. I understood them and liked their company. I still don't know if the rest minded it because they really objected or because it was not right according to their friends. I dint pay much attention to what they felt about who I hung out with. Neither did I make efforts to be in good books of teachers. I never was.
As the only girl who was detained in college 6th semester. I stood outside principals office to get his permission to let me sit for internals. I am bloody proud of that!!!
Of lying wasted in my room, brooding over where my life is going. I remember that moment clearly. I had no thoughts but one. I wanted to write but did not want to think. And so I wrote my first love poem which had no rhyme but just my feelings like they were. I wrote :
I sit at the door,waiting
Staring out at the horizon
The sun is sinking down
It is time to go home.
My eyes fixed on the road
And I see him from a distance
My heart skips a beat
A 1000 emotions rush in.
He appears closer now
With each step he takes towards me
My heart races all the more.
I get up and walk to the entrance..
To welcome The Man,
To welcome him- My Man!
I see his face clearly now
And I feel him looking at me.
As he stands in front of me
His eyes penetrating mine,
His head held high,
And smilingly he says Lets go.
And I set out with him to explore the unknown,
To unravel the mysteries that await Us;
Its me and Him and Our beliefs
Our promise to enjoy, TOGETHER..
Laugh and play and play and laugh
And go on like that Forever
Forever-till the time it lasts.
A tear rolls down my cheek
Its just another gloomy reverie
My eyes still fixed on the road
But the sun has sunk
Its just left tranquility behind
And ME sitting at the door,
Still waiting....
Reverie... Somewhere I had a faint voice telling what I was to do with my life.
Of understanding what unconditional love is, of being possessed, mesmerized, hypnotized by the depth of his voice, of driving around in his car and listening to unromantic soul searching songs for hours, of talks that made so much sense, of talks that lasted for hours, of hours becoming days and days becoming months.
Of loving and being loved.
Waking up depressed, dozing off depressed, aloof, a recluse, diffident. Forced loneliness. I can go anywhere now. I have learnt and they are never to be forgotten. Things that transcend and transform.
Of the coldness I shared with A for 6 months. Crap crap crap.
Of the closeness I discovered with here again.
Of being independent, of being on my own. Spectacular!
