Sad Tears, Happy Tears

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Yesterday, I could have given some serious competition to Cheshire Cat. My incessant grinning caused a lot of amusement to all, and every person I ran into could not help but exclaim how happy I looked. Yes, I was so uncontrollably happy! It felt like I had downed an entire vial of Felix Felicis!

However, yesterday was also the day I experienced a singular profound moment that left me with intense and perhaps irreparable grief.

A close friend and I were meeting after a few days. Not a long time, but long enough for several things to have happened (if that is the kind of chaotic life you have!). I hugged her tight. "I'm so happy! I'm so very happy!". Then with a blink, my lashes turned wet and I swooned like a drunk. I was so happy!

Over time, the two of us had led ourselves to believe that our lives ran parallel. The similarity was uncanny and on some occasions, also very eerie. She smiled at my giddy state. Being surrounded by people, we found no opportunity to have a heart to heart. When it was time to leave, I gave her another tight hug and grinned all the way home.

Later that night, we spoke for a while. "I broke down many times today. That's why I kept going out of the room", she said. And then with the passing of each second, the twisted cruelty of it all stabbed me repeatedly.

I no longer believe that being similar is important. Or that finding these similarities is of any consequence.

Nose Bejewelled

I was barely a year old when my mother got my ears pierced. She says "I took you out of sheer excitement." Perhaps she was scared that I would refuse to let someone drill holes in my ears later. Perhaps she did not want me to remember the pain.

Nineteen years later, a few days back to be precise, I got my nose pierced. Let me tell you, I was ready much earlier, but a certain friend scared the living daylights out of me by talking about "unbearable pain" and the "excruciating recovery period". I put off the idea until it completely slipped out of my mind, but it all came back when I saw a dear friend's nostril. On it perched a beautiful white stone, catching the light and glinting pompously. "If she can go through the pain, I sure hell can!", I said to myself.

So off I went to the piercer, with dear friend and three of her friends in tow (all with pierced noses). The five of us trooped into the pretty silver shop. What do you think I saw? A lady bending over a girl about my age, about to pierce her nose. Let me tell you, it looked as easy as eating cornflakes. The girl happily got up, paid and left. "Darn", I said to myself, "that looked pretty neat!". You can safely say that about that time, all my fears left me.

"Choose a pin for me, I'm confused."

"How 'bout this one?"

"Yeah that looks cool. Y'think it'll suit me?"

"I think it'll look especially good on you!"

"Ok but have a look at the others as well."

"Hmm how 'bout this? Or this? And look at this one!"

"No, no. And absolutely no to that!!"

"Well I think you should go with our first choice then.."

To tell you the truth, it didnt hurt one bit, big thanks to the piercer's expertise! She pushed in the pin in a split second and by the time I knew it, I had a beautiful stone glinting pompously on my nostril too.

I Am Not Alone

Last night, just when I was wallowing in boredom and self-pity, my friends came to the rescue. Like a ray of light that brightens up a room after the dark night, they filled me up with warmth and hope.

I had just finished writing the previous post when a very good friend from my days in Bombay came online. She hardly ever has time, so I was surprised to see her. We chatted for sometime when all of a sudden another friend from the same "era" came online too. Wow. A double bonanza. We hooked up a conference and chatted like we did when we were little. This was happening after 9 years.

Later into the night, when I was feeling a little more happy and a lot less sad, my phone rang. It was one of my dearest friends. I knew she was distressed from the moment I picked up her call. 

As she healed, the last traces of my pain went away.

I am not alone.

Last Two Years Of Schooling

My mother is a Maths tuition teacher, and ironically, both her kids are absolute duds at it. Ronnie always managed to pass, though. I was the one failing everytime. I had to reappear for the blasted subject when I was in class 9, but in the 10th Board Exam, I scraped 38 marks out of 100. All my classmates were complaining about their marks. Even those who had scored well in the 70s and 80s. On the other hand, I was the only one in a state of euphoria! I had done it! I had somehow managed to clear the paper, and now I wouldnt have to take it as a subject again!

I realised that I belonged in the Humanities stream (Its also called Arts) somewhere in class 9. But there was a problem. My school had stopped offering Humanities as a choice of stream since the past 10-11 years, since it did not have many takers. I had to change my school.

I approached the Vice Principal. I thought that I would somehow be able to convince him to restart the Humanities stream, since there were 6-7 other children who were also interested to take it up. But he flatly refused. I now knew that my efforts were going to have no results. A new stream could not be started so soon.

I withdrew from the school, and then my school hunting began. I had changed schools twice before, but then I was too young to know the entire process. But now, I was more aware and more interested.

None of the top schools let me in because they needed someone with a minimum of 80% in the Board Exam. Well, it didnt bother me too much. But at the same time I got an invitation from a newly opened, but highly prominent school in the city. The place where snooty children of snooty parents went to. I refused because I could not see myself settling in there comfortably.

After a few days of inactivity, a thought struck my mom. There were just 2 more years of schooling ahead of me. Since I had always studied in exceptional schools, why couldnt I take a chance and go to a small, newly opened school? After all, they were mushrooming all around our locality! I decided to take the risk.

The very next day, I went to the oldest of the newly opened schools (and most reliable among them), accompanied by my mom and one of my friends. The school was small and not at all imposing from the outside. But I got an inferiority complex once we went in. The floor was gleaming and the reception cum waiting area was highly ornate. There were water dispensers all around with those little plastic glasses. I was awestruck. In my previous school, though it was one of the best, we drank directly through the taps. This school was also airconditioned. My friend said that it looked like a 5 star hotel.

There were a couple of parents waiting with a child or two in tow. The school was going to start its first batch of class 11, so there were many takers. An admission was guaranteed here. These very students, including me, would subsequently become the school's first batch of class 12 as well.

The Principal was interviewing the children and their parents one at a time. It was our turn next, and I insisted on taking along my friend as well (I didnt want her to feel lonely). The three of us knocked the door, entered the room and sat down immediately. I saw an angelic looking lady sitting in front of me. She smiled at all of us and started talking to my friend. She kept talking, kept asking her questions for the next couple of minutes, until I realised what was happening. She thought that my friend was here for the admission! I quickly corrected her and we all had a heartly laugh.

We came outside, my admission fixed. I looked around with a sigh, and prepared myself for the stay in the hotel.

My Priceless Nailpolish

I have always thought that I do too much for my friends. I go out of my way to help them and sometimes fall into trouble myself while doing so. I remember making an elaborate birthday card for a friend when I was in school (since I am pretty good at doing such things). I attached those little 'ghungroos' (bells) at the base which made my fingers bleed. But I kept at it, until the card looked prettier than a wedding invitation.

Most of the times I have not adequately been... what should I say? Rewarded? Lets use that word for lack of a proper one. People say that there shouldnt be any expectations in love or friendship, but I somehow dont agree with it. You shouldnt be taken for granted in life.

There was nothing special about today. So I was pleasantly surprised when a dear friend gifted me a nailpolish. I know its a small thing and probably doesnt cost more than 70 bucks, but the gesture was so sweet that I almost cried. She remembered how much I love that particular shade. (She has a nailpolish of the same colour and I had instantly fallen in love with it, but had been unable to find the exact shade in the market.)

It doesnt always take a lot to show someone that you care. Do your share right now. You might just make someones day.