#LookUpStories

A friend’s facebook status prompted me to write this post. And following a prompt is never a waste of time!
So, she’s petrified of cats and wanted to know if people had secret fears. I thought people were reticent only about their fetishes. But after contemplating, the memory came back to me with clarity that I eked out all my years with the embarrassment of the biggest, most braggart fear I sustained. And three months ago, when my touchy subject was touched upon, it sent a blow to my bloated ego!

I confess, I’m lapidified by the idea of traveling all alone in a vehicle driven by a man. Even now, I just cannot walk around on my own in a place surrounded by men. Now, I am not saying I have an aversion to men.

A couple of years ago, I got in touch with a school friend and we instantly clicked. We chatted on facebook and flirted healthy. He suggested we should meet and I submitted that life couldn’t get any better. I asked if I could bring a friend along and he said he doesn’t have a friend coming with him. There, sounded like a date.
“Limited bling, Sai” My girls warned.
I cannot look like I’m coming from a date. Lol! So I settled with denims, a happy, bright woolen top and a pink dragonfly broach sitting on the hill top to the left, eager for his attention.
“I got my friend’s car” he announced pulling out the key with prowess.
Shit. What now?
“Um… umm… I don’t like cars.”
“You don’t–“
“No as in I feel claustrophobic in cars. Rickshaw… we could take a rickshaw!” I aimed at nonchalance which was evidently missing.

Needless to say we didn’t end up in each other’s arms by the end of it. Honestly, I was looking forward to getting away as soon as I could. Not that he bothered me but I was feeling so inept.

Eventually, I improved. I believe in taking chances.
I took an auto one morning for field work. I told the chauffeur the route and waited to reach. If my usual trip took 12-15 minutes he drove around for more than 20 minutes. I yelled for him to stop and he obeyed. There, Murphy’s Law – I came face to face with someone I just couldn’t stand for a millisecond. He offered to help. I couldn’t let these guys know I was scared. I got off the auto and refused to pay.

But one comforting thing about seeing this person was that I could somehow figure I was close to the campus. He was with his group and they were all from my senior batch. I Waited till I heard another auto pass and hired it back to the hostel.

This semester, I was placed with an agency for fieldwork that was around 25KMS away from where I live. I was asked all sorts of questions about my disability starting from whether I was born without eyesight to why I am completely dependent on my coworkers for finding my way. I told them about my fears of travelling alone but it was as good as accosting thin air.
I called up a friend and broke fits into sobs. I asked her to pick me up. I could not bear the idea of returning with my coworkers. I was acting on impulse. I called up dad and he told me to not worry.
He took a while to think and called back. “Hire a radio cab from now on. I don’t want you to depend on buggers and jokers, be self dependant. What do you lack? I only want you to excel in your field and grow successful. You are the best.”
Though the fare worried me, I couldn’t be more grateful to god for my family. I called up Meru customer helpline.

I forwarded the car details to my parents and called dad up to inform him I started back. I cannot deny the slightest pang of anxiety but it filled me with optimism. Completely. I knew I wasn’t alone with the chauffeur, the car was running on GPRS and my parents know which car I am in and who’s driving it. What more could I ask for?

The fare still worries me. My coworker commented “just because you are rich”, does he know shit about how I feel or what my parents do or what they go through when they cut out on other expenses just to see me more independent? Well, when did these people ever understand me in the first place? I know how to find my way, and such positive emotions sprout from what we learn in life.

I am writing this post for Indiblogger’s “Look up Stories” happy hour activity and my first lone taxi ride not only filled me with optimism and hope but also showed me some real action in life. Thank you for helping me share my story with the world.

#StartANewLife

I was a month short of turning nine when the deputy head mistress looked into my victorious academic history and spoke to my mum about granting me a double promotion. Needless to say my family was elated but the felicity took an age to win over my heart. I was that kid for whom everything had to go the way it went for the others. Chronologically. Linearly. In an ascending array.
“What will I say to people about last year? Everybody did fourth grade, everybody knows the fourth grade text books except me.”
My mother tried explaining to me about how everybody thought I knew so much more than the other kids from my batch and that I already know the fourth grade texts.
But how could that be? I never read those. I resigned. Stayed by myself because there was nothing I could do. My folks were so pleased with me that they spoke about it to everybody much to my embarrassment.
“Ma, what if I fail fifth grade?” I tried my luck. I asked guests and an older kid left me with food for thought.
“Why will you fail? Have you ever failed till date?”
“No, ma. Arti said every class is difficult and it is about how hard we study. What if I don’t study hard?”
“Why won’t you study hard?”
“I will study hard. But what if the studies are harder?”
I was getting on her nerves. What more could she say to ease my worries when she had worries of her own – life in a new country, the schools, the culture, the teaching patterns, the syllabus?
“But I don’t want to study fifth grade, I will only do it next year. After fourth.”
Father intervened and I had no choice. Bam.

Till early 2014, self pride kept me engulfed in its webs. I was the youngest in class, started post graduating at twenty. Somehow, it boosted my ego as well. I thought I was as wise as my class mates who were in their mid twenties. But who knew? Who would have cared to listen if told that wisdom comes with experience and not with degrees or age?

Days passed, misconceptions brooded, troubles copulated, ambitions altered at will. In short, life was fornicating with itself. And I dropped out of college.

The year that was saved finally slipped off my fingers like a wiggly goldfish. The trapping webs of self pride loosened. Array yaar drama chodo dhobi ka kutta na ghar ka na gat ka!

So, in conclusion, I have stories of blunder. And stories of heartbreaks. But the thing with these stories is that they are not special. This is the point. Nothing that ever happened with me is special. Heart aches of all kinds – romantic, familial, platonic, social – are the most common conditions there are. Everybody goes through them. And this – the hour of crisis – is when you realize, that there is still hope, and a speck of strength to pull you up because you’re not close to your death bed yet. And the best part about beginning is that you can begin whenever and wherever!

This post is written for the IndiBlogger’s “Start a New Life” happy hour activity. And I am thinking again.
These past few days have been crazy busy in to the peak season of submissions. And all I could think was “assignment assignment”.

I am back, readers, back in to the fray – consensually. Same college, same course. But this time, with more paid wisdom in the form of the Oxford course in creative writing and unpaid wisdom in the form of all that life has taught me. These are not my happiest days. but my heart is content with my situation in life.

Facebook status

Hi.
I am a glutton.
My job is all about making a pig out of myself and I love it.
My hobbies are cooking and baking fancy shmancy delicious everything.
Why am I writing a project proposal?
Bye.