She was the usual kind of girl, not that pretty to look at..lets call her “presentable”.
Ambitions were ambigious , dreams..wild, knowledge limited till Chetan Bhagat, Nicholas sparks and that category. Life was all about waking up in the morning with the smell of steaming tea making its way through her jammed nostrils, drinking it still in half sleep and burning her tongue after which the full day she couldn’t get the taste of anything, brushing her teeth in the mandatory up and down motion after which came left and right, wearing uniform was no big deal but styling her hair the correct way.. God that was tough!
She sat down to eat her breakfast, not much time did she take to gulp down bread, only a fair 20 minutes, another 5 minutes for drinking tea..and she was all set for the day. Unique is what she thought herself to be..untill and unless her ideas seem to match with innumerous others. Confined within the tinee-tiny town, whose crown jewel be the exquisite kunchunjunga, whose weather is often compared to the mood of women, whose tea is worldwide famous but whose residence lacks recognition , who still stores the toy train..it being a world heritage, whose area is so small that when one goes out on a date one has to have more than two pair of eyes..its a guarantee that he is going to bump into atleast one of his relative, and after he has bumped into a relative he cant help getting bumped into the same relative a couple of times MORE! A town where people think more than twice to wash clothes dreading it will take more than a week to get dried, a town where people take bath once a week and still manage to stay clean. A town which has so less to offer her yet is her world..
Away for three years she would close her eyes remembering those streets she walked. By heart did she remember it and when in her thoughts she walked the same streets she actually could smell that same fresh and revitalizing air, she could feel that chill after a sudden wind passed by her and when she opened her eyes she was brought back to reality. Then she would realize that she is thousands of miles away. No smell of steaming tea! She lived in a place so full of orange that she sometimes believed that her eyes were orange in colour. A place where she was enlightened with things she cannot explain, of miracles that happened to her but no one saw, of bonds she made which acts like an invisible thread binding her still.
Thousands of miles away..clutching memories, clutching her dear memories was how she survived. As another reality dawns upon her, her surroundings change. She now stays most probably, according to her, temporarily in a place which is mostly known as a “linker” to the northeast. On her way to college everyday she sees a man selling fish, she has never seen the fishes but she knows he is selling it. As soon as she gets down from the rickshaw she hears many drivers shouting names of her dear hometown and her beloveds . Annoyed she swiftly walks past them..crosses the road and gets into a blue bus..escape it is.
Clutching her bag she takes out her phone, her blue umbrella peeping from inside, she draws the window open. The engine rattles and the bus moves with a man selling newspaper , a woman distributing pamphlets to everyone..which most probably no one reads, with all this happenimg in the background she looks outside. The man selling newspapers gets down and the woman too with another unsatisfactory look. As everything is settled and the bus moves on she slowly pulls out her earphones, plugs into her phone, shuts both her ears and vanishes from the seat to a world of her own. Sometimes she finds herself dancing just like in one of the music videos and sometimes she is a victim of heartbreak which never happened and other times she, well.. she just exists.
The approach of the conductor brings her back to her seat, a note or a two gone.
Everyday the halt annoys her because the bus always stops a bit away from the campus entrance. Settling her hair she reaches her class and as the room fills, her mind wanders to all the possibilities of her future. Anticipating, assuming, sometimes even knowing she smiles to her ownself..
And as I write about this one girl I almost feel afraid recalling a line from one of my favourite books “Wuthering Heights” : ‘gave up everything to possess everything’. I pray to my orange God “Swami keep her strong, dont let her break down and let her always see God in all her endevours. Let her not be so ambitious that she would loose everything just to possess everything”.