Too short. Nah, too long!

The daily post asked me what I was snobbish about. If something had to be only like that for me, what would it be?

Okay, let’s start off with the first thing that comes to my mind – dresses.
There is this traditional Indian dress called Langa in Telugu and Paavadai in Tamil. If it has to be given an English name, then I would say ‘a long skirt’, but that’s nowhere close. Usually young girls wear this. I too wore it when I was young.

For me, it has to exactly reach my toes – I wouldn’t mind at all even if it swept the floor or if I tripped on it, which was what my mother feared – it had to never go above my feet. Not even a few inches. But as young girls grow, the dress begins to get shorter for them; they are usually pleated at the hems, so there would be no problem, they had thought.

They thought wrong.

The pleats increased the length of the skirt significantly, sometimes more than required, so I had to wait till I grew even more, till my mother considered unstitching the pleats safe. And until then, I had to wear the short-growing skirt, despising it every time I wear them. And a majority of my dresses was the Paavadai.

The same thing goes for long skirts – I had reached a certain age when I didn’t grow much when I started wearing long skirts, so I do not have much to accuse them of. Had I worn them when I was young, I would’ve hated wearing them, too.

Next…

When they say frocks – or tunics – I expect them to be knee-length, no more. But because my mother feared that I would grow like a freaking coconut tree, she undid the pleats of my uniform (yes, these had pleats, too. I suppose every school uniform has?) till they reached way farther below my knees. I hated wearing it.

The exact size of my clothes has to be maintained. Yes, I am a snob when it comes to clothes.

Next?

Whenever I need a bag of chips, I want a big one (preferably lay’s). Either you buy me a huge pack of chips, or I would choose to not eat at all.

Haha 😛 I can be pretty snobby at times!

Whose love cannot be replaced

Karen sighed. She didn’t have the patience anymore to face the empty home that greeted her with nothingness every day, as her step-parents worked till late nights and scurried away to their offices early in the mornings. She didn’t even have the time to say a proper ‘hello’ to them, considering their never being at home most of the time.

Hitching her schoolbag over her back, and sighing once again, Karen hurried forward, away to the outskirts of town. She was free at last – free from the shackles of mockery that her friends failed not to bind her with and a prison of a school.

Karen glanced sideways on the road, at a trio who licked their ice-creams, laughter booming from within each of them as an unsaid private joke was being enjoyed – and Karen smiled – this was a first in many months, since the merry laughter of the trio was not directed at her; this was her only reason to smile.

Of course, she thought. The only cause of laughter among the people couldn’t be the mockery of her. There had to be other genuine reasons to laugh, too. But the constant ridicule that she received from her schoolmates made her think that whenever someone burst out into laughter, it was because of her clumsiness, or any other trait pertaining to her. It had to always be her.

But today, as she saw the harmless laughter bubbling up from the adolescents, she gathered up her courage and walked up to them.
The only boy in the little group looked up at her and smiled. Karen’s heart beat fast, wanting to get lost in the moment forever. But alas, that moment could not last.

“Who are you?” he had asked her.

Someone had just spoken something inoffensive to her.

Karen simply grinned at the boy.

“Girl. Stop drooling at my boyfriend.” The girl standing to his left snapped at her.

Boyfriend?

It was a rich word that Karen could not quite afford into her vocabulary. Boyfriends, shopping, malls, fun, parties, night-outs, sleepovers, gossip, friends, dates, prom – none of these were in the affordable side of Karen’s boundary.

Should she even be denied of hospitality?

She looked up at the girl, perplexed. “I am sorry.” At the end of the day, she had ended up using the same phrase she would have used against her bullies at school; the outskirts of town was certainly not worth escaping into.
She then dared a look into the depths of the boy’s fathomless eyes. They were soft and kind, and she couldn’t see any ill will there, but she certainly did in those of the girl beside him.

His gaze, in return, pierced directly into her soul, ripping it apart, tearing it to shreds, setting it on fire, reducing it to ashes and then left her eyes abruptly without even a feeling of remorse. Ever-so-innocently.

The two girls beside him seemed oblivious to the ardent gaze exchange that he had just had with Karen. Within seconds, the color of his eyes drained, and he returned to his former self. “Who are you?” he repeated, this time, irritation evident in his voice. “What do you want?”

If falling in love at the first gaze was plausible, then Karen had just experienced that. Her eyes peered into the depths of his soul again through his eyes, seeking the warmth and kindness that oozed out towards her that he had painfully suppressed moments ago.

“Wherever has it gone?” she whispered unconsciously, earning odd looks from three pairs of eyes.

The boy surely thought that she was a freak – just like the others did. She willed him not to look oblivious to what she was searching for, but he remained that way. He knew not what she had been searching for.
Even she did not know what she had been seeking all these days, unless she had found it – love.

A lone voice rang clearly in her head, clear as a bell: “Karen, my baby!” It was that of her mother.

Eyes brimming with moist, she turned away and walked back the way she came, while the salty beads of tears rolled down her cheeks in abundant quantities. Her feet took her to a deserted alleyway, where she broke down and cried until her eyes were dehydrated of moisture.

She wanted her mother. Badly.

Tall and slender to short and chubby!

The Daily Post asked me:Which person whom I had known for very long has changed the most, over the years?

As soon as I read this, one person flashed into my mind. She was my childhood bestie (let’s call her ‘U’) and without her, I probably would’ve had a horrible childhood. As she was the first person to enter my mind (and no one else), I thought I’d write about her before someone else’s face pops into my head.

U was awesome… is awesome.. And will always be awesome, with a loudspeaker of a throat!

Whenever I spend time with her, I feel like there’s no one else who’s happier than me. She was that sort of friend to me.

When we were kids, she was fair, slim and taller than me. But three years ago, when we made plans to meet each other, our childhood friends’ community, I was expecting to see the similar tall frame to come over to the place where I was staying, but what I got was the total opposite: the person who came to me was not taller anymore. It kinda looked weird to look at the same person who has become short, ’cause I had been very much used to her tall frame.

I met her again a few months ago, and I was surprised again. She was chubbier than she ever was, and I even stood beside her and checked how much taller than her I had grown. It was not even an inch, though. It just looked like that for me – as if she was way too shorter than me.

Nothing between us has changed, though. She’s the same special person who makes me laugh hard and I still remain the-girl-who-became-a-loudspeaker-whenever-U-was-beside. It’s just that I’d grown a lot in a span of eight years and she stopped growing.

Whatever, even though she had changed physically, she would always remain the same special person whom I’ll never be able to forget.

The same fun-loving, mischievous girl.

Was the change for the better?

Since it’s the physical change I’m talking about, it doesn’t matter. As long as she’s U, I don’t bother even if she has a third eye! Her awesomeness totally covers everything!