From where it all started

I tried not to be jealous. I tried feeling happy for them. I tried not to cry. I failed spectacularly. Watching my sister and my friends competing & enjoying themselves on the school playground was hard on the 9 year old me. I blinked back tears. Di was always so supportive. I should be feel happy for her. She will win, like she always does. I just wanted to enjoy too. It looked like fun. Or maybe I just wanted to belong. I couldn’t decide.

“Priya”! Someone shook me. I looked up to see the concerned face of my class-teacher.

“Are you alright?” she enquired.
“Yes ma’am, I am fine”. I muttered feebly.

“You come, sit with me in the staff room, I will let your sister know” she ordered politely.

I wanted to protest but decided it was for the best.

I limped back behind her, despondently.

After asking me to do my homework , she got busy with some papers.

It was eerily silent here. The whole school was busy conducting the annual sports event. Something I cant remember being a part of.

“I took part in there when I was really small, I couldn’t remember though. I didn’t win. I never win.” I blurted out, shattering the silence.

She looked up sharply and I regretted my words. She will tell my parents now. This day was getting worse.
“Do you know why I teach English and Mrs. Hegde teaches maths? Because she is best at that and I excel only in English. You cant play basketball like your sister but neither can she write essays and poems like you do. We cant be best at everything. We can only try.. “
She took a deep breath and continued . “You will take part, priya. Maybe next year. After you get better” she encouraged. “But for now, you should do as your parents and teachers say.” she finished with a finality.

While I was contemplating her previous words of wisdom, she stood up and started rummaging some shelves.

“Priya, do you read story books?” She asked.
“Yes ma’am I read tinkle.” I replied with a small smile.

She laughed and nodded.

“You take this and return it back in two weeks after Christmas holidays, okay?” She said, handing me an old book.

I took it hesitantly. It didn’t look colourful.

“Little women by Louisa may Alcott” I read out aloud.

“Yes, you read it and tell this story to your sister and your friends. I think only you will able to do it. ” she winked.

I smiled and soon followed her to the playground, my mind slightly confused and heart somewhat lighter.

That day changed my life. Little did I know My teacher’s words of wisdom will be what that will anchor me while I waged wars with my own health. A war I almost lost but eventually won.

That and my love for books.
Books. I live them. I breath them. They saved me. From my own demons. My love for books is popular both online and offline. Often I get asked about the first (proper) book I had ever read. And I tell them about the battered old copy of “Little Women” that opened gates of imagination for me.

We all have such turning points in our lives. A curve that changed the way we thought, lived or loved. This was one of mine. What is yours?

I am taking my blog to the next level with blogchatter ‘s #MyFriendAlexa

Pic credit – Google

Holidaying without social media.

2020.

The less said the better. Suffering and chaos everywhere. Most of the year went by with us being locked inside our homes, unable to meet our friends and relatives, not able to go to work. And to think its all due to a teeny tiny virus (when will it leave us?!)

I am sure when things get back to normal, most of us will be heading somewhere with our friends and dear ones on a long trip. Or a solo gateway. Nothing rejuvenates our mind body and soul like travelling to new place far away from monotony. After the year we have had so far, we all need a break. For now we can only remember and reminisce about our previous holidays. Recently my mom and I got discussing about our last trip. That was last year but feels like a century though.

Last year, my cousins from America came down to pay a visit. My grandma wasn’t getting any younger and she wanted to be with the whole family. The whole clan. Uncles. Aunts. Cousins. Their kids. Around 40 of them. But where should we meet? Most of us live in Mumbai and none of our homes were big enough to host forty odd people at the same time. Nearest holiday spot seemed the logical decision. After many discussions, some arguments which had the trip almost getting cancelled, we decided on Lonavla as gran couldn’t travel for a long time by car. We had booked a huge villa and rented few cars and a bus.

After reaching the venue and refreshing ourselvesg everyone got down to their works. The little ones were running here and there, the older women catching up with the latest family gossip and the men discussing politics and sports. The youngsters were all sitting in the corners with mobile phones in their hands preferring the company of social media over each other. Myself included. And my gran for whom the trip was actually planned was sitting there alone.

Feeling bad, I along with my mother went to have small chat with her. I could sense her displeasure even before I opened my mouth. She asked to assemble the ‘mobile gang’ as she calls us. Overwhelmed, and sensing some strict lecture coming, I called my cousins. She is the matriarch of the family. Whatever she tells, we listen. She is the perfect combination of warmth, cuteness, indulgent and sternness. What she asked shocked us. Some of us were looking at her with something akin to horror. She asked us a promise of switching off our data and not click a single picture, selfie in this trip. Not of the scenery, not of the people, nothing. That’s the gift she wanted from us. My cousin tried to reason with her “but photos are good memories, Paati.”. (Paati is grandma in Tamil). Another cousin chimed in with “How will we share it with our friends? How will we remember this trip in the future?” he pleaded. To which my gran replied “what to do you want to remember? About how you sat in that sofa and messaged your friends on Facebook? That’s something you do everyday. You don’t need it as a memory to remember.”

I for my part looked ashamed. She wasn’t scolding or reprimanding us. She simply sounded disappointed which is always worse. We agreed to switch off our mobile data and only attend calls if anyone called. All the while one thought was repeatedly resonating in our minds “How will we spend four days without Internet and social media?” But minds made, we all together went ahead to find ways to entertain ourselves. The villa had carrom and cards. A cousin, bless her, had bought Jenga and board games.

Once the initial displeasure of not having access to our mobiles wore off, we actually started enjoying. We all reconnected with each other, remembering our childhood days. We talked, played games, the young and the old together. We enjoyed food a little more because each one of us had something little to share with each other. For once none at the table were clicking pics of the food or immersed in their phones.

We got reacquainted with the childhood favourite uncles and aunts. Some of them are permanently settled abroad and reconnecting with them gave me immense pleasure. We got to know each other again. With passing years somewhere most of the relatives if not all drift apart. All of us get so busy with making a living that we forget to live. I guess my gran wanted to teach our generation that lesson. Trust me that was the most memorable and fun holiday I have ever had. That’s the opinion of all the members in our family.. There wasn’t any itch to share photos on Instagram or Facebook nor any obsession to see how many likes and retweets were given. All of us, the young and the old alike, together simply enjoyed, made memories and grew closer by the end of the trip. We spoke about issues that we couldn’t share with anyone. We played pranks and cracked jokes. We are closer and still in touch constantly. Post that trip I am not addicted to my mobile anymore. I realised social media is a blessing if used correctly and a burden, a curse that diminishes happiness from your life if used obsessively.

Remembering that trip, writing about it has me longing for those days. Hope the coming months bring some respite and things go back to good old normalcy for all of us.

I am taking my blog to the next level with Blogchatter ‘s #MyFriendAlexa.

P.S Attaching the only photo my dad clicked in the trip. Sigh.. I will go talk to my cousin about it again. See ya on the happier side.