Growing up

I am growing up. I never thought that would happen anytime soon but i think i am.May be not in every aspect,may be most people who sort of know me won't concur with me on this. But it's true.

Take the case of Love for example.

Till recently it was something I could easily fall into. Who has not had a crush or a teenage love? The excitement, the passionate feelings, the little secret moments...you just believe that while you are in love with your special person everything is okay. The universe is doing it's job perfectly. Nothing could ever go wrong.

At 16, love can blossom with a few poetic word, long gazes into the eyes , a few blood drops....It's simply hard not to fall in love.

My sweet 16 was years back but I had hardly grown up from that mental state.But now I know things are not always that easy. There's no real black or white in this thing. May be you say you love someone but you actually don't. Or you say you hate someone and adore that person. Maybe you love two people at a time. Maybe you are with one person and think of the other. Maybe you've broken up ,but you really can't stop thinking about that person.May be it's all just lust. May be there's is no such thing as love?

No clue.One thing i know. If two people can love each other easily and passionately if they are not in the '16', It sure is magical. By then you would have become selfish, loving yourself more than anything els eon the planet. If you can still love another human being so selflessly, so easily,Love sure is a magic.

Now, that's a different kind of "magic' I associate with Love now.The earlier magical love implied things like 'true love' s first kiss' which could turn lead to gold.

I have grown up, haven't I?

Sandra

‘Such a cute baby!’

‘She’s got gray eyes….lovely’

‘So fair!’

Every one showered compliments on the new born baby. And yes, she deserved it all. Fairer than all her cousins and sister. A light brown mop on her head unlike the usual jet black. And to top it all, she had beautiful blue grey eyes. A lovely little thing indeed. But as she was being praised and cuddled, standing aloof was Sandra. Her 5 year old big sister.

Sandra was excited about having a baby brother or sister. She was too glad to know it was a baby sister. But when she actually saw the little baby and how others seemed to be paying all their attention to her, Sandra felt alone. She was the youngest little girl of the family till then. She wasn’t exceptionally pretty like her little sister, but she was cute in her own way. Fair, like her mom, nice straight hair, loved to doodle about with paint. She never talked too much. But she was happy in her own quiet way.

*****

Megha grew up from the little bundle in wraps to the cute little toddler. She was curious about anything and everything around her-especially Sandra’s things. If Sandra was reading a book, Megha wanted it. If Sandra was painting, Megha wanted the colours. And since Megha had the wonderful habit of pulling all those things apart, Sandra stopped getting nice new things- ‘Megha would pull it apart’ was the reason always.

*****

Cousin Mariam was goofy. Or so everyone in the family said. The late teen always hung around with guys, threw huge tantrums to get her own way even in front of people-relatives and strangers alike, wore clothes which most of the family never approved of…And she was into music. No, she didn’t play the drums, but the violin. Recently she bought a new violin coz her older one was child sized. Which Sandra was dreaming to use.

‘Your new violin is nice, Mariam.’

‘Thanks Sandra. I love it. You like music too, right? ‘

Sandra nodded.

‘Don’t they teach you instruments at school?’

“No, Mariam. After your batch passed out of school they stopped it.’

‘Oh. That’s bad.’

‘What instrument do you like?’

‘The violin.’

‘You idiot! Take my old violin and learn something! My music class is near your place. Go there.’

‘I’d like to, but mom won’t let me.’

‘Why?’

‘Megha’ll tear anything I own apart.’

‘Oh. I know. I’ve been through the same thing till Ben grew up. What am I saying? That idiot still makes my life a wreck.’

‘Will you talk to my dad and mom?’

Of course, the family goofball talked to Sandra’s parents, but they didn’t take her seriously. After all, they were ‘grown-ups’. They knew how to deal with things. And Sandra was their daughter, wasn’t she?

*****

Megha joined school. Same as Sandra’s. But Megha was not going to be the goody goody like Sandra. Sandra knew she was not allowed to take part in the school performances as they charged you for the costume. She never signed up, though she always wanted to. She never fought with her classmates coz her parents wouldn’t approve of it. She never threw a tantrum to get her favorite food packed in her lunch box.

And Megha was just the opposite. She signed up for every event in class. She was made to stand outside the class everyday either for talking continuously or for beating up other kids in the class. She always made mom pack her favorite food in her tiffin.

And when Megha got away by being the naughty little squirt whom everyone adored, Sandra felt hurt. Was it her fault that she tried to obey her parents? Wasn’t she being good? Then why are they still happy with Megha?

Sandra watched the family soaps with her grand mom. The harsh dialoges and actions struck her. People hitting each other, people leaving their homes, the words, all that

*****

‘Need that’ demanded Megha

‘That’s mine. You’ll destroy It.’said Sandra. She started going red and her voice started cracking already. For she knew where this would lead to. Megha would cry, mom would come and her favorite hairclip would be tattered. And no one cared, did they. They’ll just say it is a little clip. But it was her favorite.

‘Need clip NOW!’ shouted Megha. And then started to wail loudly. Until their mom came.

‘Sandra? Why is Megha crying?’

‘She wants my clip.’

‘So just give it to her! Grand ma is sleeping, can’t you see? She’ll wake her up.’

‘But she’ll break it…’

“Look, I bought you that clip, didn’t i? Just give it to her. She’ll leave it after a while.’

‘I’m going away.’

‘What?’

‘I’m leaving this house where I’m not loved.’

‘Wow. Which serial dialogue is that?’ there was a hint of laughter in mom’s voice.

In the serial, when this was told, everyone was shocked and asked the character not to leave. They loved her. No one loves me here.

It only hurt and enraged Sandra when her mom told her granny, dad and aunts about her talking ‘serial dialogues’. They all laughed.

*****

“Hello? Is this Megha’s mom?’

‘Yes. Who is this?’

“This is Megha’s class teacher. Looks like Megha missed the school van. Can you come over and pick her up?’

“I’ll be there soon. Thank you Miss Elizabeth.’

When Megha and Mom reached back home, Sandra wasn’t there yet. And the calls to the school, her teacher and the school bus driver didn’t help.

“Where’s my baby? I need my girl now. Find her, Joseph……..’ Mom was inconsolable. Everyone was worried. All were out looking for her.

Sandra never knew that her mom loved her as much as she loved Megha. And her mom never knew how much it hurt her when Megha seemed to be getting more attention. Mom knew Sandra wanted to learn the Violin, that she wanted to participate in the school functions…she thought she wouldn’t be able to manage all that as Megha would take up a lot of time…but now she wished she had.

It didn’t matter now anyway. Sandra was lying unconscious on the back seat of an unknown car, off to an unknown destination.

Reshma Emmatty,Cupboard at the end of the hall, Marian Ville

‘ee ucha nerathu vannu ingane bell adikkunnathu sheriyano? Ningalkku ithu veruthey kuthiyal mathi . Hmph!’ (Translation: Do you think it's okay to come in and ring the door bell at noon ,like this? All you think is of your need. Hmph!)

A short grumpy looking lady in a white and blue print saree came out of the door leading into the hostel corridor. Me, Dad, Mom, Kuttan and Dad’s friend Unnis was taken aback.

We were in Bangalore, hostel hunting for my summer internship there. The hostel Unnis uncle had searched was called Brigittine hostel, where the lights go out at 10, and which had 4 seater rooms. And u had 2 be in by 7 coz supper is at 7:30. And if u are late u have to tell the nuns here why. And where. And with whom. And all the other answers too.

No way I was gonna stay there. So I went to Brigittine’s and found more reasons for not staying there.

‘Appa, there’s no plug point there.’

‘So?’

‘So? How do I do work if I have to use my laptop? How do I charge my mobile?’

Unnis uncle: ‘it’s just for six weeks, child, don’t worry.’

Yeah. And I’m gonna be living here. I had lots of things to do here and that needed a longer curfew. For starters, I’d told Jo that we’d go to pubs and stuff so 7 pm and work wouldn’t work.

So after showing me the room, Sr Francesca asked my parents if I would be moving in right then.

‘Yes Sister. Rajetta, pay the fees.’ That was mom.

My face was ….i dunno, the nun herself knew something was wrong and asked me

‘I think you don’t like it here. Try Marian Ville. It’s nearby. In museum road’

And so we came to Marian Ville and rang the bell. And out came the lady in the permanent grumpy mood.

She walked pompously to the office room and we followed her. We were expecting the nun to come and occupy the seat in the office when she sat there. Okay. So she is the nun. Why is she in a printed saree?

‘Sister, we need a room….’said dad.

‘Yes. We have rooms here. So?’

‘She is here for doing her summer internship…at MG road. This is the closest hostel….’

‘Do you have single rooms?’ I interrupted the tense conversation.

‘No.’ came the angry reply.

Back to dad. You take care of this one!

‘When do you want to move in?’

“Tomorrow?’ in a soft pleading voice, my dad asked.

‘3800 for the room. It’s a double room, but no one else is there. So she’ll be alone.’

Yay!

‘Does it have a plug point?’ I had to know that.

‘Yes’

‘Can I see the room please?’

‘Yeah, when u come tomorrow’

Um…I need to see the place I’d stay for the next six weeks, lady!

‘But sister, could we see the room now?’ asked mom meekly

‘You people treat your kids like some treasure of sorts. It’s just of one and a half months right? You can see the room tomorrow when you move in.’

With a chorus of ‘please sister’ she got up from the chair. And we wondered if it was for showing us out or showing the room.

‘Aren’t you coming?’ she snarled at me as she walked into the hostel corridor. My mom and I stepped forward.

‘Only the girl can come. No mother and all.’

Okay. Was she going to shout at me alone inside?

We walked into a narrow corridor which was completely dark. Not a bit of sunlight from anywhere.

She opened the door to a big closet, sorry, small room. Two beds, tables, cupboards all crammed into a small place that there’s no place to move around. And no windows. I sincerely hoped that the tube light worked or my eyesight would diminish considerably in these six weeks.

She had said it would be bath attached but I couldn’t find any in this box.

‘It’s not bath attached, ‘she said with an evil grin. It's over there. ‘4 cubicles in the end of the corridor.

Oh, and another for right next to them.

‘So eight loos, right?’

‘Do you require more than one?’

No comments.

Well, that was the end of the tour.

And I was in a dilemma.

Hostel #1, seemingly nice sister. #2, the lady think s i’m the little girl who threw a stone ay her 10 years back on whom she’d love to take her revenge.

Hostel one, rules and more rules. Hostel 2, no big rules

Well, after weighing them over and over again, I chose Marian Ville. That’s right, the one with the wicked witch of the west.

But I have the big closet for myself. I pray every day that no one else would come in to join. There are TWO plug points for me to use. I can come in by 8:30.

Life is not so bad. The nun only bothers you if you chanced to meet her. Which happened the next morning when I came out to put my washed clothes on the lines. There were two big washing stones for us girls outside, which I didn’t dream of using. I’d managed it in my lazy way with wheel and water.

‘Where you washing?’ came an angry shout (Where did you wash was what she intended to say). Yep. It was sister…gosh! I don’t even know her name. And I don’t think I want to.

‘That sister…in the loo, with my bucket n stuff….’

She gave an angry glare, but I gave a sweet smile and rushed putting all the clothes and left.

I might have got into trouble with her for another thing a few days later- there was a ritual to be followed in the hostel- you had to sign your attendance every night after dinner. I used to gladly go to eat dinner (and come back sadly hoping there’s more of those bourbon biscuits in my room) but had never signed for some 3-4 days.

But thankfully, I that night it was an old sister who was taking attendance that night. She was nothing like the grumpy one. She smiled sweetly and marked me present even for a couple of days before I joined there.

Anyways, life there is pretty cool. My own big closet, messy, like my room. My hard disk with my kind of movies- and that hard disk helped me make friends coz I discovered that there are more ppl like me who love Disney and fairy tale like movies. Unlike my hostel stays before, I’m having a lot of fun- glad to have fellow mallus Deepa and Lakshmi as the occupants of the closet next to mine.

Well….I’m having a nice cozy time in my new cribJ

What i want

Please don't go.............

:( :)

a group of friends

class time fun

teases and laughs

'intersting pen'

friendship pacts

signed and torn

comes a new year

comes new surprises

silence and no chatter

a quest to know why

a piece of paper

alphanumerals scattered

'it's not from,me,but him'

says the messesnger

alone inside my room

upon my study table

time,time again

i try to make sense

one new method tried

and it all fell to places

'***** ***** ******'

a lump inside my throat

butterflies inside my tummy

what do i do now?

what shall i say now?

pretended i didnt know

pretended i didnt care

until that fateful day

my friends tried to say

then i had to say

that i knew it too

but right now i dont want

all this silly stuff

let us both be friends

let us both grow up

let us stand on our own legs

and let us then decide

it took a lot of coaxing

to get him to talk to me

but then with time

the best of help

we grew to be good friends

and then to best of friends

and then,my best(est) friend

inaugerating pens

letters in old notebooks

words written in blood

poems and quotations.

walks to tuition class

waits till i go back

drenched in the rain

feelings unspoken

fights in between

always solved by friends

trys to move apart

but always comes together

when new people came

when new loves blossomed

the old 'friendship' couldnt resist

to see it silently

denied being jealous,

but jealousy was all

untill i had to go and say

i felt the same too.

but time cahnges people

time changes things

my bird was not the same

i'll never get the same

together the journey went on

with rough moments now and then

passions grew stronger

they expressed

egos too, may be

and they too.

the next separation was

for me the worst by far.

no one can get it

not even him

and so the distance's far

tried to be close still

but somehow didnt work

had to part our ways

a year of solid silence

talks are now not real

and when real ,not right

lives have twisted,tangled

lets not get them mangled

memories just come

when we least expect

a song,a sight,a note

is all that it takes

Penning down thoughts

'Get a life' said my friend as he hung up the phone.

Life?Would you mind telling me where you are taking me?

Around this time,four years back,and all through out the three darkest,lowest years of my life,i was sad. but i had a wish,a dream a hope. Though i lost manythings,many people and that someone special, i still had something that kept me strong,something that made me work hard and 'achieve my dream'.

It involved me. Just me. I didn't need anybody else. Lej is right-'don't trust anybody'.I was glad that i was going away. I was going farther and probably higher than most of my friends. And as i was going,i found someone else.

Did i want all of that again? Well, i had thought i didn't but it looks like i did. Yes.I wanted love.

Now i'm here,right where i wanted,doing what i wanted, but am i making the most of it? May be dad's right. I'm just looking for excuses not to do things. While in hell i said i wouldnt send anything i write to get published coz i didnt want that place's name 2 be attached to me in anyway. Now i'm here and i don't have TIME?

What do i think of the most part of my day? What do i wish for and hope for these days? Why am i not doing all those things i should be doing?

Everyday i go for my walk .I feel the breeze kissing my face,caressing my hair.Everything around me looks green,yellow,brown,orange,pink and red.All vibrant and looking at me lovingly. Ilook up at the sky and get amazed each day by the colours, patterns and the majesty. I hear the music i like and i feel good. And i get pregnant with ideas and thoughts and an urge to get them all out in paper,in words,in a cam, in colours...

But they never see the world. It's like i'm too weak to let them out.

Ranting in here helps.Coz i know that this is just my digital diary and not a blog.And writing here helps.

I'm not writing in my old diaries which i had to burn. I'm not writing in those later versions with the locks. I'm not writing in that one last one where i wrote with inkless pen on a 'used' sheet again and again and again. This is my space, for me. Just me.

Now

I wanted to write about love today. I don't know wat everyone else thinks about it. For me it is a special feeling,way about everything else. I wanted to write about how happy it makes you,to make someone else happy, how special it feels , to know that there is someone who cares a lot about you,and you feel the same about that person,how good you'd feel to have someone to whom you can talk any crazy thing that comes into your mind coz that person loves you for what you are...about how it can make you do things you'll never even dream of doing.

It is a funny feeling.It can make you change the way you do things, your liking for certain things...But right now what i can write is ,it hurts. It hurts when you just want to scream to the world about how happy you are about your love and its not a mutual feeling. It hurts when you want to tell him how happy the last time 2gether was when he does not say a word. It hurts when you just look at the chatbox and the phone to blink,but it doesnt.

It's a sad,scary,loneley feeling then.