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

Just a Girl Crush baby! ;)

Movie star

Model

Or just another older person you’re acquainted with.

          Throughout our childhood,we girls[or atleast I did and presume for the rest] have phases where we half revere half idolize girls older than us who seem to have it all and are the person we think we want to be.Pretty-always pretty and cool as hell.

All of them coming under the completely platonic term girl crush.

          A few years ago,I’d watch this show called Remix on TV where this character named Tia absolutely epitomized the word floozy wearing itsy bitsy dresses and with her blond behavior. But somehow I liked all of those pretty dresses and dainty mannerisms that everyone else found exasperating. 
*girl crush alert*

           Once when I was 12 and my extended family came to visit, I took an instant liking to one of the girls who was probably 5-7 years older than me. She was thin, pretty and wore glasses like Blair Waldorf[my current girl crush :P] does headbands. That day while going back after lunch when everyone was deciding how best to fit the people in the car on the way back,she suggested that the 2 of us sit together in the front. I went and sat next to her nonchalantly but I was grinning on the inside. To a bookish, rather nerdy 12 year old it meant,"She knows I exist. That is so awesome.Maybe I’m a teensy bit cool on the inside :P". Yes it made me feel awesome. Yes it made my day :D

          I’ve been thinking about this because I’ve noticed that a girl who goes to my dance class has a girl crush on me

• Over 5 years younger than me ✔
• Always smiles at me ✔
• Comes up to say hi to me at the beginning of every class ✔
• Chatters about stuff that’s “cool” ✔
• Says bye to me before leaving,sometimes even ignoring my friends ✔

          My friends tease me incessantly about her having eyes just for me, but I encourage it anyway, perhaps because I remember times when id want my girl crushes to stop and note my existence.

And so the cycle goes on……

*giggleblush*


-Nirmitee Mehta

Accidental Friendship

Sruthy John. My 2 am friend you couldn’t be, what with us discovering our friendship only when you were 5000 miles and 4 time zones away. In school, you were the one kid I truly admired, albeit secretly. Oozing with confidence (having a 5’6” frame did give you an advantage over the other puny 6^th graders!), that maverick spirit of yours was like no other I’d seen. Heck, you were twelve and already seemed to know enough about history, literature, classic movies and vintage cars than people twice your age! You introduced me to Juanes and the Sadie Hawkins dance and Susan Coolidge. Like Katy, I saw in you the same unbridled spirit, waiting to escape, over the hills and yonder. I used to marvel at the ease with which you questioned facts, challenged conventional ways of thinking and brought new dimensions to the class discussion. We had a book club of sorts, you and me, its sole members. Reading and sharing stories of fictional characters was how we connected at that time; I astill cherish the “grown-up” conversations we used to have about Ruskin Bond and Roald Dahl’s literary style and prowess. Other than that we kept to ourselves, never suspecting that just a few years down the line we would still be sharing stories, only this time, of a different kind.

The end of the prologue came with the announcement of your moving to Australia. Australia! The continent that had captivated my senses ever since we’d studied it extensively in Geography two years before. It was the land with the strikingly beautiful Great Barrier Reef, the (seemingly) cute Koala bears and the fantastic tales of gold-diggers and convicts and you, oh Sruthy, were going to live there! My envy knew no bounds. The last day of school, you handed out (the now embarrassing) “autograph” book and I wrote you a small note wishing you love and luck, and almost as an afterthought, included my email ID. “It’s a pity you didn’t come home; we have a street lined with coconut trees, leading up to the house, which you would have liked.” you told me. And then you were gone, beyond the hills, to make new adventures. You became a fictional character for me in an exotic land; your emails- the chapters of a book I couldn’t put down. We wrote of big events in our lives, of friends, parties and summer camps and those ordinary, no big-deal moments that are so special too. Exchanging thoughts and dreams, hopes and fears, on life and love, we sealed the bond of a friendship that may have not happened at all, but just, thankfully, did.

It was in Ammichi and Appachin- your grandparent’s- home in Quilon, Kerala that acquainted me with the motherly side of you. You took me by hand and showed me around the quaint house, in which not only you but also your father had had many a happy memories. There was something in the lingering smell of the old wood that permeated every nook and the fragrance of the jasmine and orchids that Ammichi grew in the garden, which evoked memories that I couldn’t quite place; a familiar aroma here, a wistful touch there. I was about to fall asleep till you incidentally began speaking of albinos after the lights were out. And then I needed a glass of water and begged you accompany me to the kitchen. Never had I seen you so shocked! Sixteen years old I was and still afraid of the dark, of what I'd find, or wouldn't, if I rummaged through its shadows. After politely asking me to grow up, you pretended to be asleep. But after my persistent whining, took me firmly by the hand and led me to the kitchen, talking to me about the latest George Clooney movie and chocolate doughnuts till I forgot my fear. Below that sturdy exterior, was a heart full of kindness and I smiled, knowing that you were definitely a keeper. Over my first typical Malayali breakfast of putta and palam (steamed coconut rice cakes with mashed bananas), Appachin regaled us with stories of his days as a sailor, on adventures of a lifetime, out in the open sea. So this is where you’d acquired your free spirited and unafraid nature! And from you I imbibed a strong sense of independent thinking, a passion to delve into causes I believed in and the courage to see them through. You stimulated me by pushing boundaries of our conversations to new levels till I struggled to keep up and began questioning my own comfortable beliefs, finally learning to be undaunted in the face of the uncertain.

“What’s this?” you ask me, as I request the rickshaw driver to take the road that leads us away from our destination. “A good way to start the day”, I answer vaguely. You are surprised but I keep mum till we’re almost there. “Hey, this street looks familiar”, you say and I laugh. We’d reached an end to one phase of our lives and were now embarking on another. Like Appachin’s journey into the boundless sea, we too were at the threshold of new beginnings and unknown destinations. Yet I knew our story would remain incomplete till I’d walked with you down the road lined with coconut trees, leading up to your home. Smilingly, I took your hand and we began walking.

Forever beautiful - Sruthy (Kerela, 2009)

                                                                                                                                    - Apoorva Sahay