What it takes

She revisited that place tonight. Its been months since she was last there, but it feels like she's never left at all because she instantly feels safe and at home there. And then again it could have been years because she's changed so much and so has her life, its hard to remember the person she used to be in minute detail. The hopes, dreams and wishes dissipated with time. It was here that she had said farewell to the fancies of the young her before she stepped onto the threshold of adulthood. Back then she'd been craving something real in life. Living it in her mind in theory was something she'd had enough of. Her heart craved something that would turn the beautiful candy floss that her thoughts were made up of into something more than an illusion-give a more believable base to them.
Today she wishes she'd never looked beyond what she had then. Dissatisfied though she was, she'd been happy in her soul. She still believed in believing, in love, in happy endings, in the fluttering of hearts, of your heart feeling bigger than yourself, in having true feelings towards someone. It was these beliefs that had been her driving force-the sparkle in her eyes, beauty in her life, blush in her cheeks, dance of her limbs.
Right now, right here, that illusion and that she is shattering-it has been for quite some time now, like a glass wall hit by a car in a hurry. So it was with her, she'd been in too much of a hurry for the experiences that she settled for less and in turn got heavily disillusioned.
Every single time that she came here in the almost forgotten age, she'd write letters addressed to nobody in particular, each weaving a tale of her world, incorporating every whim, fantasy, dream, hope, belief. Its to find them that she's returned today, clinging to the last strand of hope which tells her that on reading those letters, some semblance of the lost her will be rediscovered. She scrambles over to the spot next to the willow tree where she'd kept them imprisoned, hidden from the world. Her hands start digging the soil, getting dirt underneath her carefully tended nails, which she does not pay heed to. Its the least of her worries now. One hand pushes back the long hair streaming into her face as the other, clenched in a fist against her heart tries to control its thud as she desperately wishes for the wooden casket enclosing them to remain. She feels a flash of joy as her hand hits wood and the familiar dark brown box with the tiny butterfly carvings appears before her. Her anticipation grows as she opens it and sees the small pile of colored folded sheets of paper. But as she picks one up, this changes into a feeling of dread. Her throat suddenly goes dry and her eyes well up with tears which without notice give way, blurring the words on paper. She can't bear it-her former happiness and optimism might make her feel more alone and lost than ever. What will she do if the largest piece of herself outside her body fails to have the desired impact and instead appears shallow to her? How much will that break her? Will there be anything at all be left after that? No. She can't make herself take this great a risk.
She now stands up, still holding the letters, dusts soil off her knees and skirt and walks into the water until she is calf deep in seawater and then holds them out in her hands till the wind blows them away, depositing them onto the surface of water where they float. Now her dreams are free to take whichever form they want. Now they are unencumbered. All of herself will come back to her when it wants to-when she is ready for it. Though this is not what she'd come here for today, she is more relieved and at peace than she's been for a long time.

By Nirmitee Mehta

Emerging from dark chasms

“Do you know the last time I felt joy? Chuck had brought me into his darkness for so long, I've forgotten what that felt like”

“You may not be aware of it but it’s not all light and bright in here. There are some places devoid of even a hint of sparkle”

- Blair Waldorf (Gossip Girl)

Her darkness came from the people around her. She left her old life and came here- came here for more. She came happy and happy she believed she would be for the time she was here.

She didn’t think it to be any fault of hers. Why the people around her had suddenly started behaving differently. All that she could think of was her having gotten close to a single person. For centuries, those a little separate from the others, those not a part of the herd have been viewed with suspicion.

She however did not do anything that would warrant such behavior. To all of them she was nothing but polite, cordial, warm, if a little distant, something that came from her lifelong insecurity when faced with a group of people. The rest of them started by inching away from them and then they were shunned from the group. She can’t remember exactly when the hate started. She’d never seen anything like it earlier. A sunshine protected soul always, never before had such behavior assailed her. The hate comments reverberating in the air all around her were hard enough to take. In the wake of this she drew the only person she was close to, closer still, making in haste and at a bad moment, a choice she would regret, not only by going into something she wasn’t ready for, but also making way for more hate coming her way along with a lot more isolation when that person suddenly removed himself from it all, leaving her— in a mess she’d gotten into primarily because of him- to face the heat by herself.

She maintains a brave front in front of the rabblement. She smiles more often now. People with no idea what’s going on think it means she’s completely happy there- the sound of her laugh echoes the valley. If they only caught her off guard at a moment of desperation when her mind and her eyes feel dead. She remains stoic, ignoring the verbal and literal trash being thrown her way, pretending to the world that it doesn’t affect her one bit, wondering all the time how long can this charade go on? When will the cruelty end? Nobody but she knows how deep the wounds of laughter at her expense and pleasure in her misery go. How much they affect a person’s psyche and how long the damage can last.

But she’s decided that she will not let any of that affect her. She’s got way too much sunshine inside her for that. She’s convinced herself that from now on, petty people like that will have absolutely no power over her emotions. She just has too much more in her life for some pathetic sociopaths to take away. Aside from the haters, she has so much to live for, so many dreams, so much love to give to those only willing to take. She does not need them- does not need their opinion or approval on how she conducts herself and her choices in leading her life.

All they are is jealous of her. All they want to do is reduce her sparkle and steal her smile away because they can’t handle it. They “pluck her feathers before she can fly” because they envy her charisma and cannot bear to see someone have it all. They underestimate her and fail to comprehend that her spirit is uncrushable. She does not and will not break easily. She channels her memories of laughter here. She has people who know who she is and who she’s always been to cheer her on. Support from unexpected sources and from people in the very same place as her gives her the will to remain as she is and not buckle over. She takes a vindictive pleasure in the haters’ efforts to be as good as her and failing miserably. Other than that bit of contempt that she allows herself feel, she will not pay attention to any of their trash because that is how inconsequential they are in her life.

Times like this are just steep rocky slopes on her way to her pinnacle where the shine she gives off, will draw the world in. She will get through this because she can- I believe with all my heart and soul that she can and for merely having the strength for it, I am so so proud of you!

Maybe if we just don't talk about them, it'll just go away

By Nirmitee Mehta

Career Conundrums

The delicate and infantile age of about 4 is when most of us make our first premature career decision. "Ma, when I grow up, I want to be a teacher!" and from there begins the string of career options we weave for ourselves, ranging from animated ones like pilot and "that-person-on-the-tv" to more serious, thoughtful and sane options like lawyer,doctor,banker,etc.
How easy is it for us, during our adolescence, to have a new ambition each day? I'd wanna be an air-hostess today, but owing to the fickle-mindedness and frame of mind of a child, I could wake up the next day declaring to become a journo, yet noone would question me- instead I would be encouraged with a smile(and sometimes a little clap,too); my parents going along with whatever I proclaimed, knowing that this is just their juvenile baby talking. As we grow older, the seriousness of these decisions dawn upon us. "What are you going to do with your life ahead?", becomes a deeply feared question, furtively longing to be ignored. It doesn't help that we're constantly reminded of those few odd contemporaries who predict rather confidently how their next 10 years are going to shape up - only to add to our growing insecurity.
Why this fear? Why the ignorance? Why are we so apprehensive to take a decision and stand by it for the rest of our lives?


Pressure. It's the pressure that we are inept of withstanding. Pressure from parents, from peers, from those galling relatives who wouldn't stop asking about our future plans... But the pressure of the highest magnitude is, ironically projected from ourselves. The pressure of choosing something that the 25-year old version of ourselves has to live with, the pressure of ensuring that that version of us doesn't look back to the present day with regret or compunction.
Career decision-making in today's time is not just merely about making a profession out of something one enjoys doing. It involves a series of complex parameters, as one has to take into consideration the competition involved, the job security, the satisfaction, the lifestyle that it'll facilitate, and not to forget, the money-which apparently seems to make this cynical world go round.
I am not an expert in judgements like these - hell, I've managed my choices even more erratically than the monsoons of India. But all I can vouch for is that this phase of perplexity in every teenager's life is inevitable, and to rise above it, going with what You feel is right (and not getting influenced by others) is what makes you a winner. The only way to know whether you've made the right decision is to follow it, which only requires you to be courageous, intrepid and ambitious. I believe that if one chooses wisely, follows it with whole-hearted aspiration, stays clear and concrete throughout... That 25 year old version has got to be living a pretty awesome life. :)

By Chahita Lalchandani