I love my best friends Aza, Madhura and Roohiya a lot.
I realise the worth of true friends this year.
Life is too unexpected. Seriously.
Oh, I was remembering New Year's Day this year. Good times man. How we watched the countdown. How we sat in Aza's balcony at 11.34 p.m. and discussed the life that lay before us. How things would change. How we swung on her swings at the terrace at 1.23 pm. How we drank coke and laughed. How we lay next to each other on the mattresses Aza's mother put out on the terrace. How we woke up, sweating because the 10 am sun was blazing down on us. How Aza pinched me for waking her up. How sweaty I had become due to my satin pyjamas. How Roohiya groaned. How Madhura turned red. How everything ended. How we went home. How we went to different JCs. How we meet just once a week now.
I have never met a nicer bunch of people in my whole life. Seriously. I remember how I had once casually mentioned that they weren't my best friends, just very good friends. I had said I had too high expectations. They sat me down for an hour and asked me what they had done. They were hurt. They actually cared about what I thought of them. They cared. I affected them. Someone cared if I fell dead that day. I felt treasured. I knew that day, that these three people would be there for me. No matter what.
Such reassurances are so important for one's emotional well being. Do you remember in 2005, when we were in Sec2? When it was mid may and the trees lining the school slope began to drop pink flowers on us. We pretended that it was snow and we stuffed each other's shirts with those sweet smelling (but sticky and rather gross) flowers? How we squealed? How we always shared our lunches? How we said shut up and nobody minded? How we always understood? How we fought and somehow came out of each one, stronger and more accepting? How each of us changed for the better under the influence of the group. How we helped each other fight the personal battles of the heart, how we stood up for each other, how we cheered for each other at school events, how we always felt happy catching each other at the corridors.
Guys, I miss you and even though I don't see you everyday, I miss you and will always treasure all the times we spent in school together. I love you guys and am looking forward to another saturday. Another saturday with nonsense like insulting each other with random hindi idioms. Yup, I am looking forward to it already.
See you then, ARM.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
Results
Sometimes, life doesn't make any sense.
For example, the O level results. After months of effort, and for some, years, the results came out, and well, I believed that it was going to be the end. To be very frank, I am not a very focused person. I never have been. Its like, okay, I have short term goals, like for example, let's pass this and lets ace that. But it's never been a "I am going to be a doctor, and that's that". So it was no wonder that after I mugged in the last 3 months, which was mind you a very intense period, I was very worried about my results. As in, I didn't realise it before, but 2 nights before the results were released, it finally dawned on me that if I messed this up, things would be really different. Different? Ok, hell, they would suck. My life would become topsy turvy. And it doesn't help that most people in my parent's friends circle are made up of typical upper middle class non-resident indians who believe that it is their life's primary goal to know how I have done in my exams. They don't say it, but they expect a phone call from Mom or Dad informing them about my performance. So when I thought about how poor grades would reflect on my family and me, I began to freak out. Imagine if I got 19 points. Oh man, I even dreamt that I got 56 points. I have never had a more depressing dream in my life.
2 nights before the day the results were released I closed the door of my room, and cried in worry. The night before I fell asleep with a thousand what-ifs in my heart. That day, I went to the temple in my neighbourhood. Its a very old one and has renovation going on but the right side of it is still open. I prayed and prayed, not just for myself, but for my family's happiness and my friends' relief. I just hoped that everything would go right. But I still remember, that I never asked God for good results, I prayed for strength and humility.
I asked for strength should I do badly and humility so that if I do well, I will not let it go to my head. I wanted to be humble.
So when I left my doorstep that hot afternoon, my mum said, "Can you please leave with a smile? Remove that look on your face. Go happily. You did what you had to do, and you will have to accept it. So go araamse(with ease)". She made me eat a good meal, gave me a hug, and sent me away with a smile. But even I could sense the worry behind my mother's eyes as the lift doors closed.
School was abuzz with activity as all girls were worried. The rumours were that the school had done very well, but I thought, biting my lip, that did not mean I did well too. School statistics were never always reflections of every student's performance, especially a student like me.
The result release was at 2 pm. All the teachers were mum. I passed my Literature teacher. She just smiled and said "Don't worry about lit". My CCA teacher also asked why I looked like I was attending a funeral. Amusing perhaps but it was hardly so, given the situation I was in.
The prinicipla kept on talking about the school's performance and I kept praying again and again. National scorers were announced and other toppers. I quietly waited, tense.
Finally my results came. Behind me, a close friend fell on her feet crying loudly. Beside me a girl crashed down like a dry autumn leaf while another yelped in joy. Others were calling their parents and hugging each other. Some clutched their result slips and consoled their friends. With shaking hands I took my slip and looked into my co-form teacher's eyes. She raised an eyebrow and said, "what? relax, you did well". I wondered what "well" was and looked into my result slip. Relief. Then shock. Then gratefulness. I inched away from all the emotion around me, to the side of the auditorium and I took some moments to be with myself. Then I ran across to the other side of the hall to find out how my best friends had done. I was crying and crying, I was so relieved. They were not tears of happiness, kind of but not really. They were truly tears of relief.
Some friends were glad, some were disappointed. But overall, by the world's definitions, all my friends had done well. For us, it was a matter of doing well or worse by our definitions. I had my own set of expectations. And I am glad that I did well. I am glad I didn't let myself down.
And now, its a part of my past. Its a phase I will recount always. It was a time that I have felt so lucky, and so thankful. I sympathise with some who put in so much of effort yet didn't do as well as they thought they would. I don't know why that happens. But acceptance is inevitable, and accept is what everybody did. Some did it with glee, and some with resignation.
Thanks Mummy, Papa, Miss Ang and my teachers, my 3 best friends, Sherwin and Sahana.
And of course, more than anyone else,
Thank you, God.
For example, the O level results. After months of effort, and for some, years, the results came out, and well, I believed that it was going to be the end. To be very frank, I am not a very focused person. I never have been. Its like, okay, I have short term goals, like for example, let's pass this and lets ace that. But it's never been a "I am going to be a doctor, and that's that". So it was no wonder that after I mugged in the last 3 months, which was mind you a very intense period, I was very worried about my results. As in, I didn't realise it before, but 2 nights before the results were released, it finally dawned on me that if I messed this up, things would be really different. Different? Ok, hell, they would suck. My life would become topsy turvy. And it doesn't help that most people in my parent's friends circle are made up of typical upper middle class non-resident indians who believe that it is their life's primary goal to know how I have done in my exams. They don't say it, but they expect a phone call from Mom or Dad informing them about my performance. So when I thought about how poor grades would reflect on my family and me, I began to freak out. Imagine if I got 19 points. Oh man, I even dreamt that I got 56 points. I have never had a more depressing dream in my life.
2 nights before the day the results were released I closed the door of my room, and cried in worry. The night before I fell asleep with a thousand what-ifs in my heart. That day, I went to the temple in my neighbourhood. Its a very old one and has renovation going on but the right side of it is still open. I prayed and prayed, not just for myself, but for my family's happiness and my friends' relief. I just hoped that everything would go right. But I still remember, that I never asked God for good results, I prayed for strength and humility.
I asked for strength should I do badly and humility so that if I do well, I will not let it go to my head. I wanted to be humble.
So when I left my doorstep that hot afternoon, my mum said, "Can you please leave with a smile? Remove that look on your face. Go happily. You did what you had to do, and you will have to accept it. So go araamse(with ease)". She made me eat a good meal, gave me a hug, and sent me away with a smile. But even I could sense the worry behind my mother's eyes as the lift doors closed.
School was abuzz with activity as all girls were worried. The rumours were that the school had done very well, but I thought, biting my lip, that did not mean I did well too. School statistics were never always reflections of every student's performance, especially a student like me.
The result release was at 2 pm. All the teachers were mum. I passed my Literature teacher. She just smiled and said "Don't worry about lit". My CCA teacher also asked why I looked like I was attending a funeral. Amusing perhaps but it was hardly so, given the situation I was in.
The prinicipla kept on talking about the school's performance and I kept praying again and again. National scorers were announced and other toppers. I quietly waited, tense.
Finally my results came. Behind me, a close friend fell on her feet crying loudly. Beside me a girl crashed down like a dry autumn leaf while another yelped in joy. Others were calling their parents and hugging each other. Some clutched their result slips and consoled their friends. With shaking hands I took my slip and looked into my co-form teacher's eyes. She raised an eyebrow and said, "what? relax, you did well". I wondered what "well" was and looked into my result slip. Relief. Then shock. Then gratefulness. I inched away from all the emotion around me, to the side of the auditorium and I took some moments to be with myself. Then I ran across to the other side of the hall to find out how my best friends had done. I was crying and crying, I was so relieved. They were not tears of happiness, kind of but not really. They were truly tears of relief.
Some friends were glad, some were disappointed. But overall, by the world's definitions, all my friends had done well. For us, it was a matter of doing well or worse by our definitions. I had my own set of expectations. And I am glad that I did well. I am glad I didn't let myself down.
And now, its a part of my past. Its a phase I will recount always. It was a time that I have felt so lucky, and so thankful. I sympathise with some who put in so much of effort yet didn't do as well as they thought they would. I don't know why that happens. But acceptance is inevitable, and accept is what everybody did. Some did it with glee, and some with resignation.
Thanks Mummy, Papa, Miss Ang and my teachers, my 3 best friends, Sherwin and Sahana.
And of course, more than anyone else,
Thank you, God.
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