Tag: reality

Chapter Fifteen: Friends

Praveena was to become a Psychologist. A few years ago, she wouldn’t have imagined herself in this situation. The college was in Bangalore and Praveena had to adopt hostel life. He father didn’t protest, again to her surprise.

College changed Praveena’s life without her permission. She had to socialize with other students —  something she had evaded for a long time in school. She was glad of it too. After years of being friendless in school, it had been tough to make friends all of a sudden; everyone had already formed their own groups, jelling well together. They were unwelcoming to a new person. Having realised it the hard way, Praveena was determined not to repeat her mistake.

On her first day in college, a warm Friday morning, she sat alone in the last row, when another girl took the seat next to her. All other places were taken, even when Praveena came in. The ‘all students in the last row are morons’ attitude stood in Bangalore too, Praveena realized, as she looked around from her place.

The girl next to her remained silent, looking troubled. She had tied her long brownish hair back in a pony, but a few strands hung either side of her temples. Praveena liked the way the girl wore her hair; she had never tried it on herself. ‘Maybe you should.’ ‘Ya, and maybe you should shut up.’

The girl sat with her face down, resting on folded arms. She seemed to be in pain. Praveena wondered if she should talk to her.

She turned around to look at the other students. Everyone was quiet, tentative to start a conversation. A boy sat right in front of her. It was his hair that attracted Praveena’s attention. It was short, jet black and well kept. She felt a pang of envy.

A few minutes of silence later, the tension diffused and everyone began talking with each other. It seemed like the teacher would be late. It was only later that Praveena learnt that things were done quite differently in the St. Benedict School of Sciences; teachers never showed up for class on the first day of the year. This was to encourage students to get to know each other before they began academics.

As the others started talking, the boy who sat in front of Praveena turned to her, “Hi, I’m Anil.”

“Praveena,” she responded, extending a hand. He took it smiling. She noticed dimples in his cheeks. ‘Cute,’

The girl next to looked up, turning her head this way and that. She seemed to be annoyed with the silence. Anil spoke to her. “Hi, I’m Anil.”

The girl looked at him with a strange expression on her face, as if she could hear him but couldn’t see.

“And I’m Praveena.” She held out a hand.

The girl looked from Anil to Praveena and then back. She took a few seconds to respond, “Niveda.” she said at last.

An awkward silence fell between them as they looked at each other. Then suddenly out of nowhere, Niveda burst out laughing, taking the other two by surprise.

“Well,” she managed between laughter, “what do we say next?” her eyes were twinkling with excitement.

“Wow?” Anil said a little nervously, making her laugh even more. Anil looked at Praveena bewildered, and saw her reflecting his look.

“Friends?” Niveda asked, looking at the other two, her palm raised upwards.

“Sure.” Anil was enthusiastic.

“Friends.” Praveena affirmed.

It was the strangest thing that had happened to her. She had never made friends this way before. She was excited and a little reserved at the same time. She wondered if this friendship would be as strong as the ones she had seen and read.

From that day onwards, the trio became good friends. They had committed to the relationship knowing nothing about one another, but they would figure out on the way.
That evening, Praveena moved into the hostel. She was quite thrilled when she found out who her room mate would be.

As she entered their room laden with heavy bags, Niveda threw herself at her. “Hey! Welcome, my new roomie!” She sounded so excited that it infected Praveena as well.

“Hey!” She hadn’t expected Niveda, “This is wonderful,” she said earnestly. “Wow, the two of us!” The thought thrilled her. She had heard Anil was in the hostel too. It was the first time Praveena looked forward to meeting a friend, and she liked the feeling.

Niveda took Praveena’s hands and ran around the room in joy. “We could do so much together!”

“Sure, why not!” Praveena laughed. She felt dizzy already.

National Blog Posting Month – Day 17

Chapter Fourteen: Life Goes On

After their little conversation, Praveena grew less tensed and less angry. She felt like a new person altogether. After a long time, she slept well that night. The next morning, she sought Priya and apologized.

“Hi Priya” she greeted brightly.

“Oh, I — hi” Priya replied sounding weak. Praveena could see her cowering at the sight of her. She decided to set things right.
“Listen, Priya. I’m really sorry for what happened the other day. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” She meant it, she wanted to make things normal between herself and her other classmates.

After that, Priya and Praveena became friends. They weren’t what you’d call soul mates, but they were a pair of school kids hanging out, trying to tolerate each other. In the years that came, Praveena became the person she had always wanted to be: a normal student.

She thought of her mother almost everyday but not with the same self pity and distress; she now remembered her mother as a person she cherished and whose memories gave her bliss. She sat on her bed everyday and spoke into thin air imagining she was speaking to her mother. It was easier now to tell her mother everything she felt. Ms Marrie seemed to have somehow unlocked the invisible barrier that had stood between Praveena and her expressive abilities, and for that, she was ever grateful.

As days and months rolled on to years, Praveena grew up to be so different from what she would have turned out if not for the little chat with Ms Marrie.

Every time she thought of that day, Praveena couldn’t help but wonder how easily things seemed to have changed. One moment she was full of confusion and fear, and the next, she had felt so positive.

Bearing that positivity in her mind, Praveena got through to the final year of her school life. Students were in high spirits, glad to get away from school tension. They looked forward to join college. It was a prestige itself, to call yourself a college student. College meant a lot of freedom, yet under the student banner. It’s the age many students experiment with their habits and end up miserable later on in life.

Praveena wasn’t aware of those things, yet. To her, college was a senior form of school with limited freedom. With her happily misunderstood concept, she prepared herself to face her final examinations.

Ms Marrie and Praveena had grown closer to each other. Though Praveena didn’t spend time with her in any more talking sessions, they shared a wave of understanding that remained a mystery to others. On her last day in school before the examinations, Praveena was walking down the school corridor when she came across Ms Marrie.

“Good morning, Miss,” she greeted her as usual, noticing that Ms Marrie was unusually happy. She beamed wider than Praveena had ever seen before. ‘Well, there aren’t many reasons to be happy in this school, even for a teacher.’ Nowadays, her inner voices came and went freely without bothering Praveena. They were a part of her after all.

“Morning Praveena. Guess what?” she sounded excited too, like a child who had just cleared her exam with distinction.

Praveena shrugged shaking her head, “You’re happy for some reason?” They had crossed the point of a teacher-student relationship. Praveena and Marrie were more like friends now.

The other teachers in the corridor had begun staring at the pair of them. They never conversed so easily with their students. ‘What’s up with Marrie?’ They’d wonder, not having the courage to voice their thoughts.

“Let’s go into my room,” Ms Marrie replied quietly. Disapproving stares followed them, all the way to Marrie’s room.

Once inside, Marrie turned to Praveena and announced, “I’m getting married!”

“What – wow! Congratulations!” Praveena was too happy and surprised to say anything. She spread out her arms wide and embraced Ms Marrie in a long hug; she didn’t know why she did it, it sort of happened instinctively. Praveena had never before thought of Ms Marrie becoming someone’s wife. She was an individual, a strong single person. That’s the way Praveena had seen and come to respect her. News of her marriage came as a happy surprise that Praveena didn’t know how to react.

“You upset?”, Ms Marrie asked incredulously. Pulling away from the hug and looking into her face.

“Oh, no. No, no” Praveena stuttered. “I’m just – happy.” she smiled widely. And she hugged Ms Marrie again.

“Thanks so much Praveena!”

“So,” Praveena asked, breaking the hug. She paused mulling the words over. Ms Marrie looked questioningly at her. “where’s he from?” She gave an extra emphasis on he.

“He lives here, in Chennai.”

Praveena was relieved. She didn’t want to lose contact with Ms Marrie. “And,” Ms Marrie added, “I’ll be working even after marriage,” smiling knowingly.

That’s exactly what Praveena had wanted to hear. Her joy knew no boundaries. A few seconds of hesitation later, she hugged Ms Marrie again, the only person she had spoken her heart out besides her mother.
Ms Marrie returned the embrace, patting her gently on the head. She knew.

That was the last time Praveena saw Ms Marrie. For some reason after that, Ms Marrie had never called her, or answered her calls.

Soon enough, Praveena was engulfed in other worldly matters. She fared her exams well, and like all others her age, busied herself wondering which course and college to join.

She wasn’t sure what to do. She was attracted towards creative thinking and psychology. She chose to to do a Psychology course. After some thought, her father gave in though she was surprised he hadn’t opposed to her wishes as other parents had. She knew he had hoped she would enrol in Engineering.

So, she decided to take up psychology. She wasn’t the curious kind who had read all about the subject on the Internet. No, she was just another girl, who saw the mind as a fantastic beast. She was intrigued, but she was a novice. And she accepted that on her interview.

“You never read anything on Psychology before?” Her new principal raised his thick eyebrows. He looked quite young and puzzled.

Preveena shook her head, slightly smiling at his surprise. ‘That’s what they teach here, right?
“Ok,” he seemed to have recovered. Stroking his short boxed beard, he said, “would you like to take a small questionnaire. Now?”

Praveena was taken aback. She hadn’t expected this. ‘You should have’. Shut up, she advised her inner voice. And, for once, it did.

So, Praveena took the test. She sat in a classroom, with no supervisor and plenty of empty benches. The blackboard was wiped clean and the teacher’s desk sparkled. The questions were all about patterns and boxes; questions about which matched which, and which line looked similar to the other. There was even a question that had asked her to describe the shape of a circle. Her father sat outside the room, waiting patiently. He wasn’t sure this would work, but he held his silence.

An hour later, she stood in front of the principal while he examined her work. He looked at it for about five minutes without saying anything. He then turned the paper upside down and stared at it.

Praveena started to have doubts. What was he doing? Was he really an esteemed Psychologist, or just a raving lunatic?

At last, he put the paper on his desk and said with an impassive look, “You’re admitted. Congratulations.”

National Blog Posting Month – Day 16

Chapter Thirteen: A Helpful Voice

The class seemed to go on forever. Praveena couldn’t concentrate, but she was careful not to drift away from the lesson. She didn’t want Ms Marrie thinking she was playing the fool.

Ever since Ms Marrie had assured Praveena that she was open for discussion, Praveena had been feeling an unmistakable urge to talk to her. But she was also a bit scared of the outcome. What would Ms Marrie think of her?

As she watched Ms Marrie teaching, Praveena thought about talking to her. She had a lot of agony within her and she wanted someone to open up to. Ms Marrie was the only person who had given any indication she would listen.

Praveena decided to talk to her.

‘Are you sure?’ her inner voice peeked up. She silenced it with a definite yes.

When the class ended, Praveena trailed Ms Marrie out of the class. Spotting her, Ms Marrie said, “Hi, Praveena. How are you?”

“Not good, Miss.” she replied without looking in to Ms Marrie’s eyes.

“You want to talk about it?”

Praveena nodded. It seemed odd, asking a teacher to talk to you about personal things. But she didn’t care anymore. She missed her mother more than ever; she wanted someone to listen to her, to console her and to chide her. She wanted her mother. She wanted to tell someone that what happened to her was unfair and she wanted affirmation.

Ms Marrie nodded curtly and walked towards her room. On the way, they came across Ms Selima, Praveena’s English teacher.

“Why aren’t you in class?” She asked sternly, peering at Praveena through the top of her glasses.

“Oh, I’m borrowing her for a while, Selima. Sorry I didn’t let you know.” Marrie smiled brightly.

“OK,” Ms Selima said and went on her way without giving Praveena a second look. Praveena stood watching her with a queer expression. “She and I aren’t the best of friends,” Ms Mary mused, watching Praveena.

She looked up at Ms Marrie. Smiling, she led Praveena to her room.

Before they went inside, Ms Marrie offered Praveena a stress buster. “How about a cup of tea, Praveena?” She asked picking up the kettle that had been sitting on a table just behind the door.

“Please.” Praveena was surprised. Personal beverages within the school campus? She was sure Principal Vanitha would never hear of this.

Ms Marrie bolted the door and settled behind the desk as Praveena sat facing her. Noticing the room darker than it had been the last time she was there, Praveena saw that Ms Marrie hadn’t opened the window.

“Alright,” Ms Marrie began with an air of getting things done. “What’s bothering you, Praveena?” she asked in a more serious tone.

It surprised Praveena. Just a second ago, Ms Marrie had sounded casual and lighthearted. And now she was all serious.

“Praveena?” she repeated. Praveena looked up at her.

“Hey, look. I know you’ve had a lot of problems. But just remember, you’re not alone.”

“What?”

“Everyone has problems of their own, only the degree of it differs.” She shrugged. “Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not belittling your suffering,” she paused tilting her head towards Praveen. “but I’m only saying you should be aware of others’ problems too.”

“But how could I do that? Should I just walk up to them…” Praveena trailed away thinking of Priya.

“No.” Ms Marrie replied. “you don’t need to do anything like that. Just keep in mind that people you meet every day are undergoing tough stuff. Even if they don’t show it.”

Praveena nodded.

“Now, tell me. What were you upset about the other day?” Ms Marrie wanted to help, Praveena could see that. ‘She could give you a better insight, you know’ her inner voice said. ‘and another perspective’ the second voice added.

“Mr Andrew.” Praveena paused, not knowing how to open the matter. Now that she had someone to talk to, the matter seemed trivial. Maybe she was just being stupid.

Ms Marrie egged her on, “What about him?”

“He told me — ” she swallowed, “he told me he hated teaching.” She waited, expecting Ms Marrie to say something. But she showed no sign of surprise. Apparently it wasn’t news to her.

“And?” Ms Marrie urged after a while.

“He said he had wanted to be an archeologist and that he changed his mind because someone convinced him to.” Once she heard it come out of her mouth, it sounded a bit funny that such a thing had worried her so much.

“So, that’s what upset you,” Ms Marrie confirmed, nodding curtly.

“Yes.” Praveena’s voice was small.

“Good.” She nodded in approval. Praveena had not been expecting that.

“What?” she was perplexed.

“What exactly about Mr Andrew’s life bothered you?” Ms Marrie had a strange expression on her face, as if it was a perfectly ordinary matter to discuss, “Don’t worry, be honest.” she added, seeing Praveena’s unsure look.

Praveena thought. What had really upset her was, “he gave up on his dream too easily, and I couldn’t accept it.”

“Exactly,” Ms Marrie exclaimed jubilantly. “That’s good.”

“Why?” Praveena was confused.

“If you’re upset about someone else not realizing their dreams, it just means you have a passion to see others succeed in life.”

Praveena wore a quizzical look. She had no such passion at all. Perhaps Ms Marrie had misunderstood her. This conversation was becoming pointless.

“Let me explain,” Ms Marrie seemed to have read her thoughts, “You strongly believe people should realize their dreams. Right?”

Praveena nodded silently.

“So, when Andrew ended up a teacher, your belief was tested for the first time. That’s why you were upset. You couldn’t accept it because you had never heard of it happen before. Am I right?”

Praveena now saw the picture, as understanding drew on her face. She nodded.

“But don’t mistake the power of society. It will continue to test you and surprise you. You will face the same confusion every time your beliefs are questioned. It’s up to you to decide how to react. You follow?”

“Yes, Miss” Praveena sounded happier now. Her heart felt lighter. “But Miss, does it mean that my trust will always be broken?”

“Maybe,” Ms Marrie shrugged “you can never be sure.”

“Then,” Praveena was again confused. ‘’what should I do if I’m not sure?”

Ms Marrie was silent. Her eyebrows creased as she thought. “I don’t know.” she said at last. “Maybe that’s for you to find out.”

Praveena nodded in agreement. “Maybe…” she trailed away.

They were silent for a while. Then Marrie broke it.

“How’s your father, Praveena? How’s he taking your mother’s death?” Marrie wanted Praveena to talk, to open up and reveal her innermost feelings. She knew Praveena had never done that before.

“It’s really difficult for him, he can’t come out of it.” Praveena’s voice went all squashy. It was strange, talking to Ms Marrie about her mother so easily, when she had reacted so badly towards Priya.

“I see,” Ms Marrie observed, “and,” she paused now looking directly into Praveena’s eyes, “what about you?”

“I’m fine, really”

Ms Marrie smiled. ‘Did I sound convincing?’ Praveena wondered.

“You know, that’s a bit too quick to be true.”

‘Perhaps not.’

“What’s going on, Praveena? Tell me exactly, don’t be shy and don’t be scared. Just talk.” Marrie’s voice was gentle, urging Praveena.

“I feel — ” she stopped and sniffed, “sad. Like I have no reason to live, like I’ll never be the same again.” she gulped.

“Like a part of you had died,” Marrie helped.

“Yes.”

“That’s how you should feel, because that’s what happened.” Ms Marrie wore a smile on her lips, a content and satisfied smile.

For some odd reason, Praveena felt better.

National Blog Posting Month – Day 14

Chapter Twelve: Motherless Woes

Praveena stayed home for a week. Not to recover from the shock, as others would have described it, but to help her father piece himself together. Praveena knew Geetha’s death had affected him more than it had her. She knew he couldn’t let her go; he loved her too much. When Praveena asked Kamal, two days after the funeral, why their relatives had never shown up before, he only said, “They weren’t too happy with us getting married.” From the way he said it, Praveena could discern how much they had loved each other to dare to oppose their families and succeed together for such a long time.

The days that followed Geetha’s death were the worst days of Praveena’s life. She was filled with emotions and thoughts she couldn’t share with anyone. Kamal was heartbroken. He needed Praveena to sit by him, more for moral support than anything. For hours, they would sit together, nonspeaking, reflecting their days with Geetha; happy days of laughter, quarrels and serious conversations on the same couch they now sat. It was as if an undeniable part of them had suddenly left, leaving an unfilled dent in their hearts.

When Praveena went back to school, all eyes followed her. She could see the pity in everyone’s eyes, even the teachers looked extra kind. And it bothered her.

Andrew spoke to her after class that day. Gathering his things, he called to her, “Praveena, follow me please.” His voice was a bit gentler than it had been the day he had reported about her to Kamal.

She followed him to an empty class room nearby. He turned to face her, “I am really very sorry for your loss.” Flat and emotion-less words spoken as such.

Praveena, not knowing what to say, remained quiet. She didn’t meet his look, and cast her eyes at his polished shoes instead.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded at his shoes. Was that fear she detected in his voice? Her eyebrows arched in curiosity – still at the shoes. Perhaps not, she decided as he said, “OK, then. I’ll see you later.” he turned and strode away from her.

She stood immobile for a moment, staring at his back. And then she turned to her class.

As she sat waiting for the next teacher to arrive, Priya showed up from nowhere.

“Hey!” she said breathlessly, trying hard, and failing, to sound normal. She was brimming with curiosity, Praveena knew, but decided not to get to the details.

“Hi,” Praveena responded in the most unwelcoming tone she could muster. Priya didn’t meet Praveena’s gaze. Looking low, she said in a small voice, “Sorry about your mother.”

“Ya. So am I.” Praveena tried to keep her voice level and void of emotion. She looked at Priya’s face expressionless. She hated getting emotional in front of other people.

Priya looked up brightly, hoping Praveena would talk.

“So,” Priya swallowed and began tentatively, “What actually happened to your mom?” The words came out a little faster than normal.

Praveena felt rage welling within her but she knew Priya’s curiosity was harmless. ‘Besides,’ her inner voice vouched, ‘it is often tough to disguise curiosity. Not to mention wrong’ Nevertheless, she didn’t think she could speak about her mother’s sickness.

“She died,’ Praveena shrugged and opened her book. She wasn’t going to study, but she hoped it would ward Priya off. It didn’t. Priya stood her ground, persistent, “Yeah…” she took it slow, “but how? What happened?” Praveena could tell she tried not to sound too inquisitive, but couldn’t help it.

“What’s your problem?” Praveena lost control. She shut her book with a loud thud, and glared at Priya “don’t you understand what I’ve been trying to tell you?” She stood up so fast that Priya stumbled away from her, scared she might attack her. “I-don’t-what-to-talk-about-it” Praveena retorted through gritted teeth.

Priya looked shocked. “I was just being friendly” she said in a low voice as if she were about to cry, and backed away rapidly.

“Well, you’re doing a bad job of it!” Praveena almost screamed, looking furious. The whole class was looking at the pair of them, and from the corner of her eye, Praveena could see a few girls whispering hurriedly together. She didn’t care. Her anger had taken over. She stood staring as Priya left the class, almost running.

Praveena sat down rubbing her right temple. She did it until the anger subsided. She couldn’t understand what came over her. She felt angry all the time; Priya had only kindled her fury. Why was she so angry at Priya? She hadn’t asked anything wrong, she had only voiced what others couldn’t pick up the courage to do. Praveena knew there was no reason for her outburst and it worried her. ‘Am I going crazy?’ ‘Hello, inner voices? I could use a little help!’ she thought desperately.

She didn’t notice the rest of the class staring open-mouthed at her. Praveena was the quiet girl and it perplexed them to see her losing her temper at the most annoying girl in class.

They gaped, trying to make sense of it all. Just then, Ms Marrie entered the class and everyone hushed up and returned to their places, ready for class.

National Blog Posting Month – Day 13

 

Of Greatness

People talk so much about mothers and the sacrifices they make. For ages, people ignored their mothers and the sacrifices they made for their family.

But that’s changed now. Every mother’s day, people thank their mothers, speak so highly of their greatness and share photos on Facebook to show their gratitude to the rest of the world.

What about the other mothers?

She’s the one who starts work before you’re awake, sweeps your floors, cleans your bathrooms, refills your tissue rolls, clears away your empty cups, dusts your desk, rearranges your dishevelled papers, eats after you, and works on Sundays.

And yet, she’s not your mother.

She’s a maintenance staff. The people who make an office of a piece of construction.

So many of these maintenance staffs are mothers too. And it’s painful to see them working so hard for the people who don’t even spare a second look at them.

Most of them are my mother’s age. Every time I see one of them mopping the floor for the third time in a day, I wonder if I’d want my mother in the same situation.

I wouldn’t. Because it’s a sad job. Because people don’t see you for who you are; people don’t see you at all. And yet, not one of them walks past your place without taking away the cup you were too lazy to throw away. And if you happen to catch their eye, they smile at you — not the false smile you give your boss, but the one your mother gives you. What makes them do that?

I don’t think it’s passion for their work. A sense of conscience? Are they just loyal to their salary?

It’s not about the money. It was never about the money. Yes, it’s their job to clean, but it’s their choice to clean satisfactorily. Because they care. They care about you, they care for me.

It’s the human vulnerability. They look at me and they see their own daughter. The mother within drives them to do more, to do better.

I sat staring at the laptop one morning. It was the festival holidays and the office was almost empty. A maintenance staff came up and asked me why I didn’t go home for the festival holidays. We spoke for a while and she wondered aloud how hard it must be, living in a foreign city, away from family, not being able to go home for the holidays without getting crushed under poor roads and the terrible traffic of monsoon rains.

She works a 12-hour shift and her every break is valuable. She didn’t have to spend her time talking to me. But she did. She spent her free time consoling me. She didn’t know why I didn’t go home, she didn’t know I was too lazy to trudge through traffic.

She just assumed I couldn’t go, never once suspecting that I didn’t want to go. Because she’s a mother. And mothers don’t judge.

If that’s not great, what is?

Written for a contest run by Tata Motors to promote their campaign, #madeofgreat.