The Excitable Little China Doll.

"एक चतुर नार कर के सिंगर 
मेरे मन के द्वार ये घुसत जात 
हम मारत जात, अरे हे हे हे 
यक चतुर नारकर के सिंगर... "

1968, Saira Banu gave us something to appreciate. An epitome of charm and grace. 
Yes, Bindu won many hearts in the Hindi movie "Padosan".The moody, competitive, winner-of-hearts was our selection for the Annual Day, to pay tribute to the people who so gallantly appeared on stage and gave us the best time of our lives.  Now to choose the people who would act it out.

I'm not a huge fan of Annual Day. The last time I participated, I ended up losing my spectacles, my mom's favorite dupatta and my skirt ! (Who does that?) So yes, this time I wasn't exactly the most eager participant.
But the fun gradually lured me in, and in a matter of few days, me, Ms. Anti Annual Day, was sitting in the hall, waiting for the next act to begin. You must have guessed. It was this very song from Padosan, and I was to see the cast for the very first time.

A very melodious, classic "ta ta din ta " begun the song after a  hour of tummy-aching comedy.  The source was a senior boy playing the lead on the harmonium, with my best friend, Trina, beside him, playing Bindu.

I watched in astonishment as singer began to gesticulate the notes of the song, and both Trina's and his feet began to rise up and down in perfect unison. 
She was amazing at doing this shoulder thing, as in, she moved her shoulder blades left and right while stretching her back bone upwards with a dazzling smile. As some of my friends stated correctly, the attitude and grace came naturally to her.

Then the song started. The hall, usually jam packed and noisy, and least sensitive to the people performing, was unusually quiet. Trina leaped lightly around the whole stage, as if made up of air, while the boy with the harmonium followed her doing classic kathak steps. 
The song itself commanded attention and celebration, and the actors were doing the most wonderful job of nailing it.


Then the last, hyper beat came, and the two opponents came to fight each other. Amidst the angry "hmm! hmm!" Trina moved in between the two, flailing her arms wildly and sending them toppling backward. Then with two more graceful leaps and a smile, she finished with a flourish and looked up. The hall was dead quiet for one magical moment, before it boomed with spontaneous applause. 
I still remember her jumping high in the air shouting "Woo Hoo!", as people couldn't stop clapping for her. The spell bounding, astonishing part was, that we had this dance a billion times after that, and she evoked the same reaction every time.
I mainly wrote this for her to let her know how much people think of her and her talents.
She had always been hyperactive and jumpy and chirpy. She had always laughed the loudest at my jokes, and when we walked beside each other on the street, we were stopped every time, and asked " Are you both sisters?". The warmest question I have ever received.When she asked for her biography, I was stumped. I didn't know what title would I give her. And these aren't even proper biographies. Then I remembered a china doll my grandma used to own, probably still does. It was pure white, with a perfect, graceful figure and the happiest expression, holding her heart on one hand. I had a tendency of dropping it every time. And along with the heart, it used to shatter into two pieces. 

Grandma used to come with a tube of Fevicol and glue the pieces back together again. The china doll used to stay in the show case, brand new again, happy again. 
Trina is exactly like that. She is a tiny little beautiful thing, who is very sensitive and breakable. People hurt her uncountable times, and she shatters into so many pieces. Eventually someone comes along, with a warm smile and kind emotions, and glues her back together with her own tears and theirs, but if you just look closely enough, you'll see the fine cracks on her, which'll probably always be there.

But you know what makes her such a great person? She'll always smile. She'll occasionally make the cracks visible, but she'll always be cheerful.

And her heart, will always be out, in her hand, to give out to those who need her. 

A Swirly Sweet Lollipop

I distinctly remember myself when I came here. Wire rimmed, metal spectacles, anorexic in a bad way, dark circles, sunken cheeks and zero percent of what I am today. For a change, I was a quiet little child who used to sit into her room all day, reading some book, in a dark blue skirt or tunic. Now, I talk so openly its often offensive.
Here is why, I am that way.

I had always longed for a park.

Sweet, fresh air, soft grass, rides and lots and lots of friends. It was a dream. So when Papa got transferred to Kolkata, all my sadness evaporated as soon as I heard there was a park.
I didn't have many friends. I wasn't very social. Lucknow was a crowded, messed up city, where my life solely existed in trips between my grandparent's houses. It was relatives here and there, and none of the fun stuff.

I was in this really weird school, and hell, was it traumatizing. Despite having a large population, mainly consisting of Muslims, Lucknow did a lot to damage my self esteem. These girls, who believed in a different kind of God, kept saying things about what I do dirty and what I do wrong. We were very small then. I'm sure she has grown into a mature, responsible teen with an open mind, and she doesn't go around saying things like that anymore. I hope.

I often look back and regret not retorting, actually telling them how logical my religion was, the way I enlighten all my friends today. CMS Aliganj was definitely a good school in many ways, and will always be an integral part of my grooming, but I sometimes wish they had done more "to educate children and endeavor to unleash their potential" , the way it was so pompously written in the school prospectus. I wish they taught children that every individual is worth attention and thought, and people always believe for a reason, however bizarre it may be. 

When I shifted into Udita, I thought I'd slip away unseen. But someone had seen me.
Anamika and her family stood there, on their doorstep, watching us. Neighbors didn't play much role in my life. They were always too annoying, excessively girly or boyish to a fault. I had no idea how much fun I would be having.

From the first day I came over to her house to the last time recently when I've watched a movie with her, both of us have changed a lot. 
The the sweet little girl who used to twist the chains of a child's swing, and spin around in glee now came over to my house every single year. Now my brother was her brother. I still remember our highly awkward first Rakshabandhan. Silently tying rakhi to Jon, we then stood inches apart from each other in the lobby. Then my mom appeared from somewhere with a bag. My brother ran up to each of us, handing us something.

It was one of those giant, round lollipops. The sticky ones which never seem to end. I recall staring at all the swirly colors in terror. How will I finish that without gaining a calorie or too?
What I hadn't noticed was that Anamika had already hugged her lollipop and Jon, and was dancing with joy. She went home very happy, and I got a hug too. 

She has helped me open up to a degree I would've never been able to reach. She was my first, proper friend who has fought for me, with me, laughed at me, with me, as well as being my only companion who was solemn about the injured butterflies I used to save in the park. ( I think you can guess why this paragraph is buttercup yellow)

 My boldness and all I have today is  because of the endless debates we have. The skill of explaining things to people,which I have been terribly arrogant about lately, is only because its so much fun to teach her things I know, and give her my easier-said-than-done advice. The only difference is that years ago it was about what dress to wear and today its about her love life.

I never thank her. I'm the kind of person who doesn't write her a tbh, or a fill in the blank thingy on Facebook, or a description. She always whines. What she doesn't know is that I'm scared people will block me from their Newsfeed after reading..... Iliad 2, probably.

Our friendship is exactly like that lollipop. That sticky, irritating sweetness keeps us together like glue, and the swirly streams of color are what each one of us has woven within it. You know the best part? Its round. It has no spiteful edges and jealous corners, and let me tell all those people who are envious of our friendship one last thing:

Its going to be a long, long time before we both finish this lollipop.