Being a toughie

“I’m tough” she told him. “Why don’t you believe me?” and was answered by a horrid patronizing laugh which translated into-“A little girly midget like you? Tough? Dafuq are you saying?”

Whenever any of us hears the word tough, we automatically imagine somebody tall with a muscular build. Someone with a no nonsense look on their face and a steely glint in their eyes, ready to set anyone who dares to mess with them in their place. Someone with a deep voice, wearing ripped jeans or leather. Maybe a couple of tattoos and piercings added for good measure. Stereotypical, isn’t it? Don’t you think being tough isn’t all of that? It is a lot more than just being confined to that definition.

It is smiling, being chirpy and not showing any sign of distress despite having had a harrowing day where everything went wrong.

It is getting that steely edge in your voice and demeanor when you are firm in the fact that you won’t take nonsense from anyone or let them manipulate you.

It is taking time to be by yourself so you do not go crazy and lose control of your emotions, hurting people in the process

It is not letting bullies or baseless rumors get to you but sticking around with your head held up high, showing no sign of worry to the world. It is confronting every obstacle in your way head on and not shying away.

It is about conforming to only your ideals about what’s right and not doing something just because the people around you are.

It is about saying no, and saying it as many times as it takes until people finally get your point.

It is about going through with the responsibilities assigned to you without any intention of skiving off just because you can.
It is pouring your soul out into your art and then keeping it on display even when it might be invaded by negativity.

It is marching up to someone and saying, “Can we talk?” after a big fight because you don’t want awkwardness to remain there any longer.

It is being silly and not being afraid to show it.

It is about knowing in your mind that somebody is worth it, worth getting close to despite being warned against it.

It is being so fiercely loyal that you cannot stand to hear a word against your friends, even by other friends.

It is not letting your fears get ahead of you- Going into the kitchen even when you get a cut or burn whenever you do and making yourself like it; thrusting yourself forward in class discussions and projects because you’ve never been there and now you feel an obligation to do in order to evolve as a person and not paying heed to the teacher’s pet reputation you earn along with it.

And most importantly, it is never losing your essence, your soul.

Here’s to being a tough cookie.

By Nirmitee Mehta

Your love

When you  fall in love, do so in a crazy, incomplete, brilliant sort of way!

Like nothing else matters, and then make it into something special. The way I love you, its unfair, its so different from the way I love family, friends, work and passion, I don't know if I love you more, but I do know I love you differently. 

When you're there I want so much more from my life, to make it a little more worthy of you, I'd want to fill it in more, achieve all my dreams and fill as much sunshine as I can into it.. I'll glow brighter so my light fills your life too. Without you, I won't give up because its not what you'd want from me but it would just not mean anything,I'd see every colour in shades of grey!
You colour my every imperfection brighter. I'd forgive your every mistake just so you can make another. Maybe we are too young but you know I'd stand by you through almost anything. You're my strength, till you're there I'll remain standing. I hope I can keep this promise, I hope nothing that destiny throws towards us is so dark that I cannot bear it. I hope you're here so we can grow old together. So I can see you succeed. So I can see your smile everyday. Your smile. Your laughter. Your eyes! You know your my light, without you I'd be lost. I would have never found my way through the fog that had overtaken my spirit. My smile, that was long gone.You found me! My eyes twinkled brightest when I was with you. They still do.

They say we are the cutest couple, I say we fit. You steal my heart with every obnoxious self obsessed monologue. You're words echo in my mind. I remember every time, ever day you've told me I'm pretty. Every time you've  said I love you my heart breathes in a sigh of relief. I still can't believe your mine. I still, can't believe you're mine! I'll remember every walk down the memory lane, that day in the rains, that day I danced in your arms, every conversation, and  touch. I'll remember how you taught me to love more than I thought I ever could. I'll remember how you made me feel like most amazing person on earth. You make every other crush inconsequential. You're my baby, my sweetheart, my quirido, mon ami and the simplest most precious, my love.

Someday I hope the daydream comes true. Someday I hope I'll find you! <3

By Radha Agarwal

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

Shadows at dusk

A lonely soul with a smiling face, she makes her way through the familiar ways and courtyards which at dusk seem to have gotten a melancholy personality of their own which she embraces, needing at this point of time just that. She appears completely absorbed, lost in a world of her own making, oblivious to the world around, unhearing of words that the music in her ears block out. She seems comfortable alone-not needing, not wanting anyone else. Her gait is non-purposeful, moving at its own pace and her eyes unseeing of anything but the dreams and moments that only they do.

They search the shadows for a like pair belonging to another soul as lonely as hers. Spilling your heart out to another person in the shadows has a fanciful ring attached to it that she with her romantic notions can’t get too much of. Just a little ahead she spots a familiar figure. Alas! Not one she is particularly excited about running into on a night like this. An irksome admirer, whose yearning glances she despite pretending to be blind to, hasn’t missed. She sidetracks him with a couple of niceties and lest he accompany her, hurries on.

Maybe…..just maybe she’ll encounter that person who has filled her thoughts for the past few weeks and that moment will break away the intriguing shell to reveal the person she is so keen to know. Maybe, just looking for a kindred spirit, any kindred spirit is her reason for walking alone and not thinking as she believes.

What she seeks now is comfort, the kind one gets from having someone with you to share just whatever uneasiness you have, that even a mere acquaintance becomes special to you because you’ve given a part of yourself to keep safe and that is what will join you together notwithstanding time and distance. This tie will bring a smile to your face when you think of that person.

She now finds herself nearing the corner she has claimed as her own- a quiet landing off the main street looking over the river. A place with a calming view and sound of water that helps her think and organize her thoughts. The words of the heroine in one of her favorite books come to mind- This is her Smultronställe. It means wild strawberry place in Swedish. Only it isn’t literally that. It is any place that is absolutely private and your own. A place like this is special, it’s the most special place there is. A place where life is….an epiphany. You can bring other people here. But never ever somebody you don’t love.

In her mind’s eye, she now sees an acquaintance strolling down the street. Spotting her lone figure, he slows down before casually standing before her, asking what she’s doing sitting by herself. And as she holds her breath, the moment she’s wanted emerges behind her eyes. And as she waits for it to unfold before her in life itself, she takes her notebook out of her bag, turns to a blank page and begins writing.

By Nirmitee Mehta

Between the lines

She was pure, unsullied, naïve.

He was worldly wise, the “bad boy”, the player.

She was persecuted- the one everyone picked on.

He was influential, he controlled the waters there.

She found him obnoxious.

Her thoughts never crossed his mind.

Mutual friends got their paths to cross once.

She found him good natured and friendly.

He found her funny.

The ice had broken.

He started talking to her electronically.

She responded.

He was amused.

She was intrigued.

They spoke all day once.

She spilled her guts out to him and let him in, inside her life and mind.

He seemed sympathetic and told her he’d take care of it.

She began looking forward to their virtual conversations.

One time they left the digital haven to meet up in the real world. A flurry of rumours encircled them and their equation was misconstrued.

She shrugged it off as idle talk and continued texting with the same fervor.

He stopped replying as much.

She expected response.

He’d somehow stopped giving it.

She stalked his facebook profile as girls do.

She was aware of his presence always when he was nearby.

He did not show any outward sign of change or discontent.

He did not acknowledge her- no looks, no words.

She is afraid of talking to him in public.

She imagines situations where they would be thrown together and imagines how their conversation would go.

He couldn’t really care less.

She always falls for boys of this breed.

He will never know what it is like to love a girl like her.

She knows she should just forget about it all.

He hardly thinks of her.

She does not want to fall for him.

He never will.

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

Living up to ourselves

Years ago, on a bright, sunny day, I remember the six year old version solemnly promising to herself as she sat  on the swing, pondering on the greater things in life,that she would ‘never ever’ in her life,stoop to using ‘bad words’ like ‘mad’, ‘stupid’ and ‘idiot’.Despite her efforts, she did eventually break that promise and used those very words as well as ones far worse. Now to me, they’re just words like so many others I use on a normal basis. Even so, every now and then, I get a little uncomfortable wondering what the young me would think of me when I do so and whether I’m disappointing her.

I shudder at the thought of putting on black nail polish because just about 3 years ago I found it grotesque and ugly. I told every person who listened that I’d never be seen with it on. Wearing it now would be betraying my younger self, wouldn’t it?

Every once in a while[or more often than that] I do a lot of stupid stuff and say things that are a wee bit dumb. I make mistakes every day of my life. After that I laugh at myself about it. Right now I’ve given my future self complete license to be as stupid as possible and later laugh long and hard about it.I can't stop wondering though, what about the younger me?Wouldn’t she feel rather indignant about being laughed at, even if its by herself? As far as she is concerned, I’m a foreign person-someone she doesn't know at all because she has obviously changed a lot growing up, and she could not have foreseen that coming since time and experiences change all of us and we can do nothing to control it. We all change a little every day of our lives.Some words,thoughts and emotions which are so important and epiphanic at the time of their becoming, irretrievably slip out of your mind like a wispy breeze when you and your state of mind changes.

Can we ever be sure of doing the right things at the right time so as not to regret them later?Can I ever know if I’m betraying my younger self or would she be okay with me talking freely about her? Or would she resent me for it? How will I ever know? All I can do is hope she is as cool as I remember her to be xD

For the most part,on the inside-in my mind, heart and soul I think I've grown up to be someone I would have wanted to become and liked. Why, for all you know, if i somehow could meet my younger self, I could have  a girl crush on me now ;)

By Nirmitee Mehta