No one should be so valuable that, if she hurts you, it may become impossible to forgive. No one can hurt you so much, that you may so bitterly try to express your anger, and never get a chance to do so. Relationships are like mirror. If they break, then each one is responsible. But when one breaks without reason, or so it may seem, how do we analyse...
There are times in our lives when we find ourselves helpless. I had many such moments. And in those difficult times, I took whatever support I got and at times clung on to it unabashedly. What does a helpless girl do, when all she gets in the name of a family, are people who chastise her for everything. In Indian homes, she recoils and hides in the shell and waits to get married. But not me. Because I met this charming, enthusiastic girl my age, as my classmate.
She was highly opinionated, strong willed and smarter than any other girl in the class. And to my family, a good influence for the wretched me. So while they jeered at my choice of friends, all the time, they pushed me to make friends with such a girl. Whether that compromised my self respect, was none of their concern. And to be in their good books, even for the short period, that it really was, I compromised everything.
I am Suma and this is a story of extraordinary events of my ordinary life. My family comprised of my parents, my siblings and myself. My siblings were considered by my parents, to be of superior intelligence to mine. I will never know why. My family ignored me most of the time, unless it was to cook a meal, clean the floor or to wash clothes. Because I did not pass in most of the subjects, I could not refuse to do any of these.
Shruti joined my school in eighth standard and was instantly an object of great interest to all classmates. She was different. She had just come back from Singapore, where her father was posted for five years. She had the attitude of a NRI, that was not known to most of us, till then. She was also wise enough to make friends easily. Good with her studies and generous with friends. Her parents supported her little endeavours and therefore, she had a fulfilled look on her face, which I could not sport even remotely.
I had an instant complex with her, I had a complex with everyone around me. Complex is all that was given to me by my family. A brief definition of me, that they had given me in my little period of existence was... "you know nothing and you need someone's help to conduct yourself". How do people survive with such complexes? Looking back, all I can remember is the endless sense if shame of being me and of fear. Fear of authority was on top of my list of fears. I wore my self image quite literally.
Shruti loathed me instantly and made fun of me occasionally. But I would dare not pick up a fight with her. She was after all the golden girl of the class. I did not pick up a fight with anyone. Because as a rule, everyone could trample me, any time. What amazed me most was that, Shruti made friends with both girls and boys. Boys were off limit for me. I was beaten quite literally, when I was seven, for borrowing a notebook from a boy in my class. I kept a distance from the boys ever since.
But now I was in my teens. But then there is another story to add to my fear - when I was 4 or 5 years old, I remembered how my Mother had warned me, that if I did anything wrong, she would not hesitate to put an end to my miserable life, because I would bring such a shame to the family, that I'd rather be dead. As I grew, I also had a constant sense of the fact that my mother was fleetingly hoping to find me do something "wrong" so she could finally have me under her complete control. I could have tested this out. But I got scared of her too early. I did not really know what was "wrong" back then. I just grew up with the mortal fear.
Shruti was out to grab life at thirteen and I was still fumbling for a self image, that would wade me through life safely, I did not ever think, to where? What intrigued me about Shruti was, how she could demonstrate her emotions so well, Whether it was like or dislike. She would just pour affection on her friends and torment her enemies with constant slander. And I thought I'd rather be in her good books. It wasn't very difficult for a coy girl like me to hide my emotions. In fact it did not take much to change my opinion of something. My parents usually achieved it with a slap or a threat of a slap. My peers achieved the same by few dirty looks and some criticism.
There was a constant struggle for me at home, to prove my worth. And since my friends were all viewed with sore eyes, I was pretty sure that if I had Shruti for a friend, I would definitely be treated with respect at home. So what happens spontaneously for people... i.e. making friends, became my goal.
In those days, Shruti was gelling very popularly, with another strong minded girl in my class, named Ranjita. They were practically inseparable. However Ranjita was not so popular with my family, because she was not a star in academics, she was ordinarily talented in studies. Shruti however carried an air of talent and discernment. Making friends with Shruti meant, I had to be friends with Ranjita too. Shruti loved anyone who loved Ranjita sufficiently. She was really strange. But this problem got resolved on its own. Ranjita's dad got transferred. She left Shruti crying for days.
I wondered how people could cry so effortlessly in public. I for once had never felt such joy or sorrow, deeply enough, to either laugh or cry without the care for the world. I was a dowdy teenager and I had no way of knowing, when the next blow of censure would come from my family and for what reason. What did I know?!!!
I gained Shruti's confidence by being considerate about her loss. Helping her come out of the sorrow, that Ranjita's absence had caused to her. But then I truly wanted to tell my family that I had struck gold, in the form of friendship with Shruti. Shruti however took all the comforting care from me, but barely ever noticed me for quite some time. And I began to realise that, my efforts were leading to nothing. This prize was not meant for me.
But one day my prayers were answered, when I was just about to give up. She caught up with me and said, "Suma, I am sorry, I have ignored you all this while, when you cared so much for me" and I realised I had stuck gold. I completely ignored Bela from that day. Bela and I were at the point of striking a reasonable friendship. A really nice one I must admit. I broke Bela's heart in many ways, but she just made way and moved on. I did not even imagine I was capable of breaking hearts. I thought I was too insipid to be noticed if I was gone, from any where.
I reveled in Shruti's friendship and her many ways of showing her friendship. For me it was the only source of any real affection. My family was probably too preoccupied to notice a teenage girl's yearning for love. Not that I did not pay a price for that friendship with Shruti. From that time on, I became "Shruti's friend" to all my classmates, from being a nobody in the class. Not a big change, but I could talk to more people and attend lavish parties, that Shruti held in her home regularly. I got a red carpet to all that excitement by becoming her friend. I also gained some respect in my family, for a short while, I would lose it again soon, when they would realise, that I was just a side kick most of the time.
But Shruti became my window to the world. She usually befriended a person, who was no threat to her in any way, academically and socially, to tide away her own sense of insecurity. And she made good use of the available pool of such hapless girls. Shruti also had her insecurities. I became a confidante to some of them. But mostly she would treat me as a favourite pet. I saw the true meaning of a family in her home. Parent's love was showered on her and her siblings almost equally. All of them confident young adults. Capable of carrying themselves off in any situation. Capable of asking complex questions, without fear. Capable of confiding in their parents. Her working mom got just as much respect, as her dad did in the house. And to top it all up, her mother drove her own car, her's was a two car family. Back then I may have been hapless, but Shruti's affections and her environment, introduced me to my life's dream. The dream I thought, I could strive for. I could live and die for a dream like this. To be a professionally qualified working mom, with a husband and children who respected me. Was it possible?
I did not know back then, whether it was really possible, but then I did not know how young brains have the power to achieve just anything in life. One of the other contribution of Shruti's was also the fact, that she appreciated me academically sometimes. She noticed things about me, I or my family never noticed. Shruti simply became more of my God Mother than my friend. The fairy God Mother if I must dare say.
She was probably getting tired of this role and one day just decided to stop talking to me. And I tried every trick up my sleeve - tears, annoyance and even begging of her, but she would not budge. I realised that my days of glory were over and became really restless. And started to keep a sad face, it was not really difficult for me, as I was profoundly sad, for how life had been treating me. This really worked and Shruti, the most spontaneous person I have ever known, probably felt it on her conscience and simply decided take me back as her favourite friend.
However she had evolved with the experience. She had learn't to make new friends, while I remained her favourite friend. She would just keep building new associations. I could never understand what powered Shruti, in fact most of the girls in my class had some inhibition or the other, she was a wonder for all of us. She was as fearless as a boy.
I don't know if this is the story of Shruti's brilliance, of my abject loneliness or it is the story of my evolution from the unique circumstances, in which life had chosen to put me.
I was sometimes physically but mostly emotionally assaulted at home and this went on for a long time. It is difficult to build a self respect in an environment of fear. Shruti was like the balm. I looked forward to see her and to hear the comforting words from her and to have the company of her and her friends.
One day I learned that, my father got transferred from the town where we lived. Shruti and I parted, with genuine tears in her eyes and forced ones in mine. Because by this time the constant battering at home and insults at school had made me completely devoid of real emotions. It was a total of two years that I enjoyed the seemingly unconditional friendship of Shruti. When she took advantage of me, and she did, it was the price I paid for being her friend. I was not her match after all. I moved out immediately after my board exams.
I secured dismal marks in my board exams, Shruti did reasonably well. We kept in touch by letters mostly. I did miss her, I was like a bird without wings, in her absence, she had mostly been my connection to rest of the peer group. I was afraid of making my own friends. I had no idea which one my parents would censure me for. But now I was in a situation, where I had to make friends, because Shruti was not there. I made a few friends, but could never be true to them, I feared admitting to my parents, that they were my friends. I feared admitting to myself, that they were my friends. I was just a Brutus in the loose. I did make some friends, but none would meet my parent's approval.
Something else happened in my life. I learnt the skill of topping in my class. So I gained some value in my family's eyes, due to that. Though that became a different problem for my mother. She was beginning to realise that, the free house help, that she considered me to be, by reminding me of my poor results, was now getting away from her. But I had a dream to reach. A goal that powered me, I had to make a family of my own, just like Shruti's.
I don't think there is any friendship without a little bit of jealousy. But it is about how I expressed it. By and by, I started to realise, it was impossible to reach Shruti's level of confidence and her sense of freedom. Since the only way I had learnt to grow, was by comparing. I did not see anything unique in myself, just as I was!! So finally I stopped writing letters to Shruti. I wanted to compete with her. Another lesson I did not learn for a long time was, that you do not openly compete with friends. You build healthy competition with them. I was beginning to break another heart. And I did it just like that. After all, I always thought that, whatever Shruti may claim about the importance of our friendship to her, she lacked any respect for me and would not even notice if I was gone.
In the years to come we would mend and break the friendship many times. I would learn to appreciate Shruti at less than the elevated position I had put her on, in my teenage years. But her broken heart would never be mended. I was just not capable of unconditionally offering my friendship, at any of those times, that we mended our friendship, for the brief periods of time. In short I always failed the test of friendship.
I went on to realise every dream I had seen as a teenage girl, in Shruti's house. I became a professional working mom, with a loving husband and a beautiful child. We became a two car family. And we got a Duplex home, just like Shruti's parents had.
And then the inevitable happened. Shruti, just like she had done it years ago, disappeared from my life. She stopped responding to my mails. She did not bother to congratulate me for the birth of my only child and she did not bother to respond to any of my mails. And this time, I just let her go. I felt genuine tears this time. I felt that a hand that had guided me through my dreams, had disappeared for good. But I waited. Shruti had a strange way of finding herself back into my life always. But not this time.
She did invite me on Facebook and I accepted the invite. I learnt about her becoming a mom too. But I tried my best to not write to her. Besides a few messages, that were never responded. I learned eventually that Shruti was a past. Letting go of the hurt of being spurned by her, forgiving her for breaking contact with me, became a task that took a very very long time for me. She seemed to have formed a layer of my personality, the layer that looks for affection. The layer that would have gone totally missing in my miserable teenage years, if it was not for her.
A chinese teapot, that Shruti gifted to us, when she visited our home, after I got married, still stands as a decoration piece in my house. It always reminds me of her. I have tried to get rid of it, but it is difficult to get rid of. It also reminds me of the truth of my life. My truth, I realise now, it may not be all that flattering, but truth is still the most glorious possession we may ever have. They lead us to places where we may never have dreamed of going. And how...?
The chinese teapot will stay with me, probably for ever. And I will probably never know why.
Note: *Brutus stabbed his friend Julius Caesar the emperor of Rome and killed him on account of political disagreement.
There are times in our lives when we find ourselves helpless. I had many such moments. And in those difficult times, I took whatever support I got and at times clung on to it unabashedly. What does a helpless girl do, when all she gets in the name of a family, are people who chastise her for everything. In Indian homes, she recoils and hides in the shell and waits to get married. But not me. Because I met this charming, enthusiastic girl my age, as my classmate.
She was highly opinionated, strong willed and smarter than any other girl in the class. And to my family, a good influence for the wretched me. So while they jeered at my choice of friends, all the time, they pushed me to make friends with such a girl. Whether that compromised my self respect, was none of their concern. And to be in their good books, even for the short period, that it really was, I compromised everything.
I am Suma and this is a story of extraordinary events of my ordinary life. My family comprised of my parents, my siblings and myself. My siblings were considered by my parents, to be of superior intelligence to mine. I will never know why. My family ignored me most of the time, unless it was to cook a meal, clean the floor or to wash clothes. Because I did not pass in most of the subjects, I could not refuse to do any of these.
Shruti joined my school in eighth standard and was instantly an object of great interest to all classmates. She was different. She had just come back from Singapore, where her father was posted for five years. She had the attitude of a NRI, that was not known to most of us, till then. She was also wise enough to make friends easily. Good with her studies and generous with friends. Her parents supported her little endeavours and therefore, she had a fulfilled look on her face, which I could not sport even remotely.
I had an instant complex with her, I had a complex with everyone around me. Complex is all that was given to me by my family. A brief definition of me, that they had given me in my little period of existence was... "you know nothing and you need someone's help to conduct yourself". How do people survive with such complexes? Looking back, all I can remember is the endless sense if shame of being me and of fear. Fear of authority was on top of my list of fears. I wore my self image quite literally.
Shruti loathed me instantly and made fun of me occasionally. But I would dare not pick up a fight with her. She was after all the golden girl of the class. I did not pick up a fight with anyone. Because as a rule, everyone could trample me, any time. What amazed me most was that, Shruti made friends with both girls and boys. Boys were off limit for me. I was beaten quite literally, when I was seven, for borrowing a notebook from a boy in my class. I kept a distance from the boys ever since.
But now I was in my teens. But then there is another story to add to my fear - when I was 4 or 5 years old, I remembered how my Mother had warned me, that if I did anything wrong, she would not hesitate to put an end to my miserable life, because I would bring such a shame to the family, that I'd rather be dead. As I grew, I also had a constant sense of the fact that my mother was fleetingly hoping to find me do something "wrong" so she could finally have me under her complete control. I could have tested this out. But I got scared of her too early. I did not really know what was "wrong" back then. I just grew up with the mortal fear.
Shruti was out to grab life at thirteen and I was still fumbling for a self image, that would wade me through life safely, I did not ever think, to where? What intrigued me about Shruti was, how she could demonstrate her emotions so well, Whether it was like or dislike. She would just pour affection on her friends and torment her enemies with constant slander. And I thought I'd rather be in her good books. It wasn't very difficult for a coy girl like me to hide my emotions. In fact it did not take much to change my opinion of something. My parents usually achieved it with a slap or a threat of a slap. My peers achieved the same by few dirty looks and some criticism.
There was a constant struggle for me at home, to prove my worth. And since my friends were all viewed with sore eyes, I was pretty sure that if I had Shruti for a friend, I would definitely be treated with respect at home. So what happens spontaneously for people... i.e. making friends, became my goal.
In those days, Shruti was gelling very popularly, with another strong minded girl in my class, named Ranjita. They were practically inseparable. However Ranjita was not so popular with my family, because she was not a star in academics, she was ordinarily talented in studies. Shruti however carried an air of talent and discernment. Making friends with Shruti meant, I had to be friends with Ranjita too. Shruti loved anyone who loved Ranjita sufficiently. She was really strange. But this problem got resolved on its own. Ranjita's dad got transferred. She left Shruti crying for days.
I wondered how people could cry so effortlessly in public. I for once had never felt such joy or sorrow, deeply enough, to either laugh or cry without the care for the world. I was a dowdy teenager and I had no way of knowing, when the next blow of censure would come from my family and for what reason. What did I know?!!!
I gained Shruti's confidence by being considerate about her loss. Helping her come out of the sorrow, that Ranjita's absence had caused to her. But then I truly wanted to tell my family that I had struck gold, in the form of friendship with Shruti. Shruti however took all the comforting care from me, but barely ever noticed me for quite some time. And I began to realise that, my efforts were leading to nothing. This prize was not meant for me.
But one day my prayers were answered, when I was just about to give up. She caught up with me and said, "Suma, I am sorry, I have ignored you all this while, when you cared so much for me" and I realised I had stuck gold. I completely ignored Bela from that day. Bela and I were at the point of striking a reasonable friendship. A really nice one I must admit. I broke Bela's heart in many ways, but she just made way and moved on. I did not even imagine I was capable of breaking hearts. I thought I was too insipid to be noticed if I was gone, from any where.
I reveled in Shruti's friendship and her many ways of showing her friendship. For me it was the only source of any real affection. My family was probably too preoccupied to notice a teenage girl's yearning for love. Not that I did not pay a price for that friendship with Shruti. From that time on, I became "Shruti's friend" to all my classmates, from being a nobody in the class. Not a big change, but I could talk to more people and attend lavish parties, that Shruti held in her home regularly. I got a red carpet to all that excitement by becoming her friend. I also gained some respect in my family, for a short while, I would lose it again soon, when they would realise, that I was just a side kick most of the time.
But Shruti became my window to the world. She usually befriended a person, who was no threat to her in any way, academically and socially, to tide away her own sense of insecurity. And she made good use of the available pool of such hapless girls. Shruti also had her insecurities. I became a confidante to some of them. But mostly she would treat me as a favourite pet. I saw the true meaning of a family in her home. Parent's love was showered on her and her siblings almost equally. All of them confident young adults. Capable of carrying themselves off in any situation. Capable of asking complex questions, without fear. Capable of confiding in their parents. Her working mom got just as much respect, as her dad did in the house. And to top it all up, her mother drove her own car, her's was a two car family. Back then I may have been hapless, but Shruti's affections and her environment, introduced me to my life's dream. The dream I thought, I could strive for. I could live and die for a dream like this. To be a professionally qualified working mom, with a husband and children who respected me. Was it possible?
I did not know back then, whether it was really possible, but then I did not know how young brains have the power to achieve just anything in life. One of the other contribution of Shruti's was also the fact, that she appreciated me academically sometimes. She noticed things about me, I or my family never noticed. Shruti simply became more of my God Mother than my friend. The fairy God Mother if I must dare say.
She was probably getting tired of this role and one day just decided to stop talking to me. And I tried every trick up my sleeve - tears, annoyance and even begging of her, but she would not budge. I realised that my days of glory were over and became really restless. And started to keep a sad face, it was not really difficult for me, as I was profoundly sad, for how life had been treating me. This really worked and Shruti, the most spontaneous person I have ever known, probably felt it on her conscience and simply decided take me back as her favourite friend.
However she had evolved with the experience. She had learn't to make new friends, while I remained her favourite friend. She would just keep building new associations. I could never understand what powered Shruti, in fact most of the girls in my class had some inhibition or the other, she was a wonder for all of us. She was as fearless as a boy.
I don't know if this is the story of Shruti's brilliance, of my abject loneliness or it is the story of my evolution from the unique circumstances, in which life had chosen to put me.
I was sometimes physically but mostly emotionally assaulted at home and this went on for a long time. It is difficult to build a self respect in an environment of fear. Shruti was like the balm. I looked forward to see her and to hear the comforting words from her and to have the company of her and her friends.
One day I learned that, my father got transferred from the town where we lived. Shruti and I parted, with genuine tears in her eyes and forced ones in mine. Because by this time the constant battering at home and insults at school had made me completely devoid of real emotions. It was a total of two years that I enjoyed the seemingly unconditional friendship of Shruti. When she took advantage of me, and she did, it was the price I paid for being her friend. I was not her match after all. I moved out immediately after my board exams.
I secured dismal marks in my board exams, Shruti did reasonably well. We kept in touch by letters mostly. I did miss her, I was like a bird without wings, in her absence, she had mostly been my connection to rest of the peer group. I was afraid of making my own friends. I had no idea which one my parents would censure me for. But now I was in a situation, where I had to make friends, because Shruti was not there. I made a few friends, but could never be true to them, I feared admitting to my parents, that they were my friends. I feared admitting to myself, that they were my friends. I was just a Brutus in the loose. I did make some friends, but none would meet my parent's approval.
Something else happened in my life. I learnt the skill of topping in my class. So I gained some value in my family's eyes, due to that. Though that became a different problem for my mother. She was beginning to realise that, the free house help, that she considered me to be, by reminding me of my poor results, was now getting away from her. But I had a dream to reach. A goal that powered me, I had to make a family of my own, just like Shruti's.
I don't think there is any friendship without a little bit of jealousy. But it is about how I expressed it. By and by, I started to realise, it was impossible to reach Shruti's level of confidence and her sense of freedom. Since the only way I had learnt to grow, was by comparing. I did not see anything unique in myself, just as I was!! So finally I stopped writing letters to Shruti. I wanted to compete with her. Another lesson I did not learn for a long time was, that you do not openly compete with friends. You build healthy competition with them. I was beginning to break another heart. And I did it just like that. After all, I always thought that, whatever Shruti may claim about the importance of our friendship to her, she lacked any respect for me and would not even notice if I was gone.
In the years to come we would mend and break the friendship many times. I would learn to appreciate Shruti at less than the elevated position I had put her on, in my teenage years. But her broken heart would never be mended. I was just not capable of unconditionally offering my friendship, at any of those times, that we mended our friendship, for the brief periods of time. In short I always failed the test of friendship.
I went on to realise every dream I had seen as a teenage girl, in Shruti's house. I became a professional working mom, with a loving husband and a beautiful child. We became a two car family. And we got a Duplex home, just like Shruti's parents had.
And then the inevitable happened. Shruti, just like she had done it years ago, disappeared from my life. She stopped responding to my mails. She did not bother to congratulate me for the birth of my only child and she did not bother to respond to any of my mails. And this time, I just let her go. I felt genuine tears this time. I felt that a hand that had guided me through my dreams, had disappeared for good. But I waited. Shruti had a strange way of finding herself back into my life always. But not this time.
She did invite me on Facebook and I accepted the invite. I learnt about her becoming a mom too. But I tried my best to not write to her. Besides a few messages, that were never responded. I learned eventually that Shruti was a past. Letting go of the hurt of being spurned by her, forgiving her for breaking contact with me, became a task that took a very very long time for me. She seemed to have formed a layer of my personality, the layer that looks for affection. The layer that would have gone totally missing in my miserable teenage years, if it was not for her.
A chinese teapot, that Shruti gifted to us, when she visited our home, after I got married, still stands as a decoration piece in my house. It always reminds me of her. I have tried to get rid of it, but it is difficult to get rid of. It also reminds me of the truth of my life. My truth, I realise now, it may not be all that flattering, but truth is still the most glorious possession we may ever have. They lead us to places where we may never have dreamed of going. And how...?
The chinese teapot will stay with me, probably for ever. And I will probably never know why.
Note: *Brutus stabbed his friend Julius Caesar the emperor of Rome and killed him on account of political disagreement.
Loved the way you've expressed your feelings Rajat.Stay blessed.
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