Aboard the Last Train

Death was a concept that I only encountered in fiction. In movies where, they speak an emotional dialogue before going limp in the hero’s arms. Death remained a foreigner for a long, but it was just a matter of time before I felt it for the first time.

My grandfather (Daddu) joined hands with death just 15 days ago.

And it has been an emotional incident in my life.

We had planned the annual trip with our grandparents, during which my brother, my parents, and both sets of their parents went together to someplace. Daddu was adamant about visiting the newly inaugurated Ram Mandir in Ayodhya this time.

It was a long journey, and my parents were hesitant since Daddu’s health was an irregular subject. One day, he would be sick; the next, he would be energetic and excited about the trip. A week before the trip, he showed excellent health and high spirits, so we were all hopeful as we got on a train to Lucknow.

 

What happened to his last train ride became my first meeting with death. In all the fear and gloom, all I could think about was how Daddu’s life went a full circle before the end.

 

Daddu was born in pre-independent India in 1938. They lived in the Punjab area, which is now Pakistan. When he was 9, India was celebrating Independence, but areas of Punjab were in turmoil as the partition took place.

The train left the station at 10:30 pm, and we were glad we all clamored on time with our luggage. Seeing the bunk beds and the train chugging, Daddu was extremely happy; he even cracked jokes. It is always pleasant before the storm.

It was raining the day Daddu left his home in Pakistan; he and his family moved along muddy fields and hid behind boulders as robbers pillaged the refugees. They dug holes and buried all the valuables they had, and at night, they were too scared to sleep.

The clock had struck midnight 30 minutes ago, but Daddu was still excited. With every station stop, he used to wake up and then realize we were still not there. After that, he ultimately gave up on sleep and decided to tell us stories.

They finally made it to the Indian border refugee camp. Daddu recounted the daal they had made there and how it was the best thing he had ever eaten.

Being a foodie throughout his life, Daddu sadly became a diabetic patient in his early 60s, and his sugar was always high. Yet, the following day, when we were just an hour away from Lucknow, his sugar was very low for the first time, and he refused to wake up.

Daddu slept peacefully in the refugee camp, but his family knew they must keep moving to settle somewhere. With no fortune, they arrived in my birth town, Ambala, where my great-grandpa started a kiryana store. My great uncle, who was interested in science, began making charts and models in a factory related to science.

Science and medicine will give the cause but not the cure. We rushed him from the train to the civil hospital, where his sugar got stable, but they still couldn’t wake him up. We then rushed to a private hospital, and they detected a brain tumor, but they still couldn’t revive him. My parents decided that there was no use in keeping us at the hospital and that it was better that we kids, along with my maternal grandparents and our grandmother, go to Ayodhya.

God is everywhere, yet we look for him in certain places. By His grace, we believe things happen and maybe also a bit of destiny. When he was 12, Daddu nearly got kidnapped by a man on a cycle claiming to be his family friend, but his uncle managed to save him in the nick of time.

To save Daddu was in the hands of God now; Doctors said it was best to go back home. My parents traveled for 12 hours in the ambulance with my Daddu. He kept moving and moaning, yet his eyes remained closed and unaware of his surroundings.

Daddu said that as a teenager, he grew oblivious to the struggles of making a living. He was not interested in studies and spent time lazing around or going to watch movies that’s until his uncle opened his eyes and brought him to work with him, where he realized his skill to draw out all the charts and science diagrams beautifully, and that’s how he saw hope in his life.

 The first night in the hospital was very hopeful. Being near home, Daddu started to breathe without an oxygen mask. We were delighted and optimistic, but the next day, the tables turned, and it was shocking to know how everything could crumble instantly.

The perfect life crumbled when the Indo-Pak War of ’71 took place. The sounds of cannons were chilling; hiding in trenches and seeing the bombs burst in the sky was frightening. Daddu calmed down his children by telling them it was like Diwali Night.

Night time is the scariest and most uncertain, and you know it's serious when your parents go for a night meeting at your uncle's home. It was sad, but within a week, it became clear that the end was near.

Finally, Daddu began a legacy by establishing his own business based on his uncle's legacy. A company where both his sons (my father and uncle) will join and continue moving forward.

On Sunday at 8:43 am, he breathed his last. Whenever on a phone call we asked him to come and visit, he would always reply I will come on Sunday. He didn’t break his promise as his body lay in our home that Sunday.

 

Seeing him lie there as floods and floods of people came over, I went into the stage of denial. I couldn’t believe such an extroverted, jolly person was not getting up to meet everyone.

He told us not to cry when he will be gone, but emotions sometimes betray us.

 

He lived fully and always stayed in the present. So, while undertaking all the cremation ceremonies, I couldn't help but wonder that maybe he never left the train ride. Maybe his spirit boarded the last train from Lucknow and didn’t even need to go to Ram mandir to meet God.

Life is a train station. We are forever on the journey, waiting to board the last train. However, when the ticket arrives, it is one mystery for sure.

Homebound

 

The clock is yet to read 10:00 am on a Friday morning and I am already off to home carrying my back pack and duffle bag. I guess coming to college I did learn an integral life skill: PACKING.

 

Over the last six months I have managed to travel home every weekend. The fact that it only takes me 1.5 hours to reach home makes going home obvious for me.

 

It’s not like I don’t try at all to stay behind.

Every week, till Thursday, I am determined to stay over the weekend but each Friday morning I hear this mysterious voice which calls me back home and before I know it, I am all packed and ready to go.

I am not sure why this call arises. Cause my college life is far from miserable. The campus is cool, I have a bunch of awesome friends and my hostel dorm is cozy.

I guess being an introvert I just need a time off from everyone and everything. I need to go home and recharge my social quota.

 

I have already been teased a lot by my friends on my escape sequence. I have received all those memes and reels of that one friend who goes home every weekend but guys I can’t help it, its probably genetics. Both my parents used to rush home every weekend too, moreover they used to skip classes to reach home early. At least I improved on that part.

I don’t miss classes but then I guess I got lucky this semester that on Friday I have got lectures till 9:40 am only which means most of my friends just made it from bed to bathroom but I on the other am already home.

 

What do I do when I get home?

Well, there’s a ton to do.

Firstly, I sleep, I sleep a lot when I get home, the level of peace and relaxation is unpowered.

Next, I gossip with my mother, about most of the things.

Then I study, okay that’s a lie I just take out the random two notebooks I brought and leaf through them just so they don’t feel sad on being neglected.

Next, I roam behind my mother as she does her chores. It’s the most satisfying thing seeing every task being done.

Then I get to eat food, that tastes like reality.

I then bond with my younger brother.

Go on a walk or cycling. When my father is home, I even try out gardening with him.

I gain ample amount of rest and I feel lighter after talking my heart out. It’s like getting to be yourself without the fear of being judged.

I don’t want to rub it into your face if you can’t go home. I really empathize with you if your home is far and you are not able to go there but what I don’t get is why those friends of mine, whose home is just as close as me, don’t go home every weekend.

They say that’s because they are stronger than me.

Well, being always up for a challenge.

I stayed there over a weekend and not just one weekend I stayed there for a grand total of 3 weekends.

The first time I stayed over was during my first semester and I was miserable. I fell sick and my parents had to come visit me on Sunday. To say I was embarrassed would be an understatement. I was mortified and, on that day, I decided to go back home each weekend.

Then came the next semester and after spending entire winter break at home I felt brave enough to try spending my first weekend of this semester over campus. I got really bored that time. I mean there was just nothing to do. I know I do nothing when I come home too yet coming home in itself becomes an event.

So, yeah after another fail, I felt my decision to go home each weekend was justified.

 

That’s until my society’s event came up. I worked hard with the entire team to prepare for this event so obviously I was going to stay over the weekend to enjoy the event. And I had the best time of my life. It was amazing to be a part of such a fabulous event and my weekend passed away in a blur.

I didn’t even feel a pinch of homesickness.

Okay so, now I have modified my terms and conditions. If there is going to be something fun, I will stay over the weekend else you know I am homebound.

 

It’s not like I am homebound for long only a little time remaining before destiny takes me who knows where. Eventually I will have to grow up and leave my peter pan’s fantasies aside. And I might even get the hang of being away from home, maybe I will find a new place to call home and then coming back to my parents would not be that easy.

Sometimes, I feel a pinch of guilt when I see how my parents spend time with their parents. They are not that far from their parents and take out time to meet them and take care of them but what about me? I am coming home right now for my own selfish motives but in the future will I continue to be homebound or will it be a burden?

Will I respect and love my parents?

Will I be able to take care of them?

Of course, when I get these overwhelming thoughts, I had to share them with my parents and they assured me they won’t get that old and not over-clingy as they age. I really hope they don’t because topics like abandonment of old parents really mess with my brain.

It’s like as you grow up you start to realize all the things your parents did for you and how much in debt you are. No amount of money can pay off my debts to my parents.

I mean at this point many of you would have stopped reading but my mother would have read past it thrice and commented each time how this article was. Even my father who is not much of a reader would read my article even it takes him 2-3 sittings to finish it.

 

Growing up is weird.

As a kid you believed Santa got you presents but now you know who Santa is and how much does each present cost.

I really don’t know what the future holds for me or how my future-self will behave towards my parents. I hope she remembers the feelings I have now.

Until then, each week, I will rush home to make most of the hours because it’s the present where we can make memories.

I guess being homebound is not that bad, even my friends agree when I bring them home cooked goodies.

Okay I may be bribing them to side with me, but then as I said every Friday I feel this unexplainable pull and I just know I am HOMEBOUND.

The Quest for Love

 

‘Love is in the air I am just not breathing it in.’

I do not remember when there came a point in my life that I decided that Romance was not my genre. Don’t get me wrong, I love Disney and I have obsessively watched every single princess falling in love and getting their happily ever after. I have read a lot of romantic literature but I have never felt anything while reading them.

The thrill and excitement that mystery novels give me is missing. I mean Romance follows a monotonous arc. Two startingly opposite characters never meant to be together, collide by chance, instantly hate each other, keep colliding by chance until Cupid shoots an arrow and they are helplessly in love.

 

But what really is love.

Love: a subject which all poets and writers have been attracted too.

I also wanted to undertake this journey.

I too wanted to find out why love is considered as cheerful and bright as a crisp spring day. How can love be like rain, pain and sadness and eventual heartbreak.

Or love is seen as winter, waiting to blossom, and acknowledged. Love is considered to cruel and hot like summer too. It comes and leaves you in a frenzy.

 

How can a single emotion be so many things? This question left me forever confused and since I couldn’t understand love, I threw it of my writing and my life.

 

But why the sudden obsession with love and a change in my playlist and reading material.

It’s because, I recently contributed to write a script on PDA. How college students assess the subject of love.

And even though my friends mocked me continuously while I researched on this topic, I found out a lot about love during this process.

 

And all this knowledge, I am scared to admit changed me.

 

I woke up, one morning and saw the bright summer sun shining and suddenly I felt that February’s week of love need not be reserved for couples.

 

I mean being single is a Rizz.

 

So, I transformed my outlook, woke up with a smile, dressed with care, wished everyone a cheery good morning, noticed the birds chirping and gazed at the beautiful nature around.

 

I rushed to help everyone around, passed around extra smiles and seeing them being returned, I realised happiness was contagious. A bit of smile from your side can change someone’s life and be a bright point in their gloomy life. People transformed in front of my eyes and soon everyone around started to behave co-ordinally and came together to embrace each other.

Obviously, nothing like this happened, instead after three days I got tired of my new sugary sweet nature.

Love ended up being a sickness for me and sadly it was not a pleasant experience.

 

I realised that love can’t change the world as over the years people have grown immune to it. Love is like a pollen grain it irritates you for a while and then it is removed from your system.

 

People are so engrossed in their daily problems to gain a sense of being helped. Love is left unnoticed.

Its hate that gets instant response. We can be overburdened and stressed but we will always have time for hate. Try to speak just one bad word to someone you will get the double back.

 

People don’t have time to smile back but frowns are flashed for free.

 

I am not a preacher; I exhausted my goodness in just 3 days. I felt really overwhelmed being so good these three days. I felt like a sponge soaking in everyone’s hate, sadness, and depression.

Its impossible to change people’s outlook on life. Man is made to hate. I mean love is just topic to write on. It is expressed but how much is it really felt.

 

In today’s world even kind actions are judged. A kind gesture hides a selfish motive.

Well, its true when we give something we expect something in return.

I do.

Whenever I do something good, I want acknowledgment, I mean a thank you note is appreciated.

Maybe this is the reason I exhausted my goodness. I waiting to acknowledged and appreciated.

 

So, in the end is love just grief persevering. Will there be no return of love.

Love really a sickness with no answer and no reply.

 

But then we are not living in a romance novel where the answer would be yes (eventually). In real life you do good it gets unnoticed but at least you know you did a good action.

 

Self-love is the greatest of all relationship. Yes, ironic statement from a single person. But seriously, just think about it. How good you feel on doing a good task.

 

And on the way if you are doing good for others, just don’t wait for a thank you. Its you who is being a superhero and well its not necessary to reveal your identity.

 

Does my quest for love end here. No, I mean I still have to write a romantic piece. Who knows next month it’s a happily ever after story. Until then love and give love.

War with Winters

I have always been a summer person. Summers define activeness, productivity, energy and movement. But living in North India, you get to experience wonderful winters and obviously, I am annoyed by them.

But I am a tough summer soldier and surely I won’t let the vicious winters defeat me. So, I strategized a complete warfare to defeat winters and I must say it was a chilly battle indeed.

 

The first attack comes in the morning and makes getting up from bed a real-life struggle. The very quilt that saves you from freezing to death at night entangles you in its wrap in the mornings. Lying back down for just a second would sink you down and you would be waking up after an hour or more.

Finally, out of my bed, I enter the washroom and the cold chilly morning air hits me in the face. But I look winters in the eye and switch on the geyser. You can keep hitting me with coldness but I got hot water to fight back. I know hot showers can leave your skin wrinkly in old age but beauty takes a backseat in such extreme conditions.

 

Out of the shower, I come back to my bed and solemnly fold my quilt cause if I enter it right now I will never be able to leave it.

 

Then I prepare my battle drink of hot boiling water which would keep me both warm and hydrated.

 

Finally, its time to suit up in my specially engineered battle armor. 

It has 2 layers of warmers, 1 sweatshirt, 1 sweater and my favorite jumbo jacket fit to live in Arctic region. I then wear 2 layers of socks before sealing them with my shoes. To fight off the gusts of chilly winds I wrap around a woolen scarf and put on a woolen cap as my head gear. And, my gloves too. 

Don't worry I manage to hang my bag without toppling over.

 

Finally, I am ready to step out for my first class at 8 am. But then I commit the mistake of asking Google the temperature as she tartly replies, it is 4 degrees but feels like 2 degrees Celsius.

 

Yes, just the right amount of motivation required to walk into the white wall of dense fog.

To cross through the fog, I lower down my head and try to navigate my way blindly, trusting my instinct. On reaching the classroom, I cannot stop the smirk, as I had one - upped winters.

Next, winters siege the sun from me. It gets really depressing for a summer soldier to live without the sun for days stretch. Continuous artificial lights do not make me feel better. My spirits are greatly dampened. Clearly this move of winters leaves me greatly injured. My savior in this condition is my little electric bottle, it acts like the power of the sun in your lap.

 

Next, winters hinder my study pattern. With so many layers of clothing I feel warm and snuggly, its like wearing a portable blanket. The early darkness and eerie stillness trigger my hibernation cells and leaves me nodding off on the desk.

I am still coming up with a technique to righten it but yeah studying in winters is hard.

 

Then winters are really manipulative and alluring with their food and cravings. These winter delicacies pull you towards them and leaves you munching constantly throughout the day. But it is all an illusion these are too sleep inducing things which make brave soldiers slow down in their war against winter.

 

But in a way this food is a boon too as it gives us warmth in winters.

 

I guess food is a neutral party in this fight.

 

Winter then attacks me with dryness which I counter with creams. It attacks me with cold and coughs out comes honey, cough syrups, and tea to battle.

 

Winters slow time down and turn the wait into torture. They make it impossible to travel freely, they confine me indoors which maddens me sometimes as I can’t go out in the open. It feels stifling to be stuck in one place but then winters give me time to ponder about things. They say winters are the time to look inside yourself.

 

It is the time to do some deep reflections. Even trees shed their leaves and stagnant their growth enclosing their life in just their core.

 

Maybe I am fighting a wrong battle. It is not about pushing back winters but instead letting it flow over you. It will stay outside if you stay calm. It won’t touch your inner flame and keep you motivated. Its tough for me to slow down as a summer soldier and I want ups and downs in life. But seeing the fog settle over my window this winter morning and hearing not even a leaf rustle I realize that the war with winters is a cold one.

 

Where, no action, will lead to victory.

 

Yeah, it’s a silent battle but being happy each chilly day adds to my winning streak and winters might win somedays but I pity them as we humans have caused so much Global Warming that days of winters are short and soon spring would be knocking on the door and I would be rushing over to welcome it.

A Journey to the Land of Ascending Dragon

 

Country of Lights

A third world country with mesmerizing scenic beauty, sparkling rivers to sandy beaches with lush green tall mountains to the beautiful water caves. Vietnam is a country that must be added on your bucket list.

I got a chance to visit this beautiful S-shaped nation during the Diwali vacations with my family. The 6-day trip was an eye opening and wonderful experience.

 

DAY 1

Our trip started with an overnight flight and so on day 1 we were heavily jet lagged. Also, I had just lost 1 and half hours of my life. (Vietnam being ahead on the world clock).

But after a refreshing bath and a hearty breakfast later we were all set to face the day ahead.

The first place we landed on was Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) lying in the Saigon region (Southern Part), it is the industrial hub of Vietnam.

Just 2 hours away from it lies Cu-Chi tunnels. These tunnels are a historical significance for Vietnam. During the Vietnam war back in 1970s with the USA these tunnels became an important component for guerrilla warfare for the people. Seeing the tiny tunnels and the cleaver traps one gets goosebumps.

Suddenly one is teleported back in time and can feel the same adrenaline those warriors felt at that time.

It is interesting to know that they used their short height as an advantage over tall American soldiers by crouching and living like rats but fighting back as lions.

It is certainly an unmissable place if you visit Vietnam.

 

Day 2

Our next day was dedicated to explore HCMC, see all its tourist spots.

So, we took part in a street food tour.

The best part was that we all got to ride behind a Scooty.

The startling difference I found between Vietnam and India was that Vietnam had a lot of two wheelers especially Scooties.

Being a bit low on economy scale owning a car in Vietnam is considered rich.

So, mostly the streets are filled with a herd of scooters and colorful helmets. Seen from a height it looks as if an army of ants is swarming by.

Riding behind the scooter is fun indeed. It was fun racing about the quaint streets of HCMC. They were designed to inculcate French architecture as France had ruled over Vietnam.

We even saw the central post office and learned that post office is the reference point to measure distances.

The post office even had the face of a Greek God and using my newly acquired knowledge from Percy Jackson series I was able to identify it as Hermes, the Messenger God.

 

Being on a street food tour, we got a chance to savour many delicacies starting from noodle soup to banana rice cake to local ice-cream, avocado shakes to spicy Pansail (which just tasted as South Indian Dosa) to finally the sweet dishes of Vietnam. Nevertheless, we left the tour with a full stomach and happy heart.

 

Sadly, we had to say goodbye to the HCMC as our next flight to Da Nang was ready to take off.

 

Day 3

Another day when our trip began very early in the morning as we had to travel 2 and a half hours away to Bana Hills.

Bana Hills have the iconic golden hand bridge of Vietnam and seeing it, is a must for your visit in Vietnam.

But destiny had something else planned for us.

The heavy mist and rain made it impossible to see even a meter ahead of us.

Luckily, Bana Hills had other activities in store.

That is the Resort Sun World. Waiting for the rain to subside, we spent time in the indoor amusement park. Coming out with happy smiles, we were glad to learn that the rain had stopped.

After lunch, we went to walk on the Golden Bridge and click pictures of this magical landmark.

Then we came down the hill and raced to our next destination in Hooyan region, the basket boat ride. Basket boats are boats shaped like a cut coconut and are made of bamboo. It was awesome to cruise down the peaceful backwaters. The wild spin they gave us midway was just awesome.

 

Out of the boat, we were back in the car and headed to our final destination; The Lantern village.

At this point; I would like to point out,  that it  was Diwali that day and the trip was planned specifically to put this sparkly event on Diwali.

 

This village had so many beautifully lit lanterns. The boat trip down the glowing river was awesome. We even tried dragon ice balls. Crunching them turns you into a 'smoke dragon'. By this time our feet were aching from all the adventures but the feeling of contentment was a balm to all the aches.

 

 

Day 4

The next day we explored a bit of Da Nang, saw the statue of Lady Buddha.

Then we went to a 3D art museum and what can I tell; me and my brother went crazy. I hired my dad and my brother took my mom to click our photographs and let us just say that I had a month full of awesome profile pictures.

 

After this, we had to say goodbye to Da Nang and looked towards Hanoi, our last destination.

 

Day 5

Again, we were up early in the morning to start off on a group tour to the Ninh Binh region.

There we climbed on the very top of Mua hill and yes, it was a solid cardio workout in the freezing air.

After lunch, we cycled around to the temple where in the pond, big colourful fishes swam and then we went to Tam Coc caves. The Natural Heritage site, where King Kong Movie was shot.

These caves are natural water caves and it was the best boat journey I had in Vietnam.

It was beautiful to see the stalagmites and stalactite up close.

King Kong Movie's shooting

Witnessing the surreal beauty with my eyes, I could not stop wondering how awesome its for the people of this nation to respect and preserve their natural beauty.

 

At dusk we visited another glowing village in Ninh Binh which made me realise that people of this country have Diwali every day.

 

Day 6

Our final day in Vietnam was dedicated to explore its capital city Hanoi. It was busier than the other two cities but still a lot less rushed than Delhi. 

We saw the street murals and the train street.

Then we did some shopping and finally it was time to head back to the airport and back to home.

As we rose from the ground I looked and saw the gleaming country for the last time. I recall the story of The King of Vietnam, who saw a dragon ascending from Hanoi and hence he made it the capital city.

Ascending from this country, now, I too felt a certain power and glory course through me.

This trip surely stirred the dragon in me.

Mua Hills

                                                                                                                                                                               P.S.: This is my 50th blog post. A journey of 4 years. Thank you for always supporting me and I hope to write more and more for you all.

Magical Metamorphosis

 

You know if a month ago, someone would have told me that I went to an event all glammed up, I would have laughed in their face. But now that I have attended not 1 but 4 events in a week, I am surprised to see my own transformation.

 

It is my inherent nature to stay away from people. I have always preferred to curl up in bed with a book rather than attending parties.

 

But it all changed the day when my friend told me that a Comic Con was taking place in our college.

 

Being a fan of all the great fandoms out there, attending a Comic Con had been on my bucket list from a long time.

 

So, I just had to go.

 

Good thing was that I was home for the weekend but the sad thing was that my friend told me about this at 7pm. Being a lazy and a shop-allergic person, I decided to go for DIY costume.

 

After a lot of brainstorming with my mother, we were able to create a Harry Potter Outfit. The props were the only thing authentic. My wand and Hedwig stuffy that I had. My mom crafted the witch’s hat out of black chart paper. I had black shoes to go with the dress.

 

To make the dress was tricky. I had a black frock but it had some design at front, so I needed to cover it up. So, I wore a black t-shirt on top of it to cover it up.

 

For the robe, my mother came up with her long and colorful shrug, which I wore inside- out to make it look like a black robe. Overall, my costume was quite believable.

 

The day of comic con proved that my costume was not only believable it was indeed cool. I felt like a character in Disneyland as everyone came towards me to get their pictures clicked. It was a bit overwhelming to be noticed by so many new people but somehow it helped me open-up to them.

 

Though there were times when I got jealous of Hedwig. I mean a few people just saw it and ran over to get a picture clicked only with Hedwig. Come on guys, Hedwig did not even brush down her feathers herself.

 

It was I who not only got ready myself but even made her presentable.

 

Then, I even took part in the cosplay parade and got to see how wonderfully seniors have prepared for it. This only made me and my friends more motivated to prepare even better cosplay for next year.

 

You would have thought that I would have been totally knocked out after this event. Even I thought the same but then it was announced that coming Friday would be Hostel Night where pre-Diwali celebration will take place.

 

Yeah, so again I found that strange feeling of excitement in my stomach at the prospect of doing something different.

 

Thankfully the outfit was not a problem this time as my mother’s future sight had helped me come prepared with my Lehenga.

 

The trouble this time was that the event was going to begin at 6:30 pm and I had a class on the opposite side of campus till 6pm.

 

In short, I just had 30 minutes to run across the campus and get dolled up. It was tough but I had my motivation.

 

Hostel night meant that we would be served scrumptious snacks but they were available for very short time. So, if I got late, they were at the risk of getting over.

 

So, as soon as the class was dismissed, I ran at a speed that would have come par to some great track stars.

Then on reaching the hostel I dodged about the others girls getting dressed. Everyone had a separate trouble. Someone needed black heels, another needed a straightener, safety pins and clips were being traded like candy on Halloween.  

 

Finally, I entered my room, pulled out my dress from the almirah and threw it on the bed. Then I wore the skirt on the lower I was wearing because it was supposed to be cold that night and I cannot end up falling sick when there was so much going on in my life.

When my dress was on, I went on to complete my makeup routine. The first step included using facewash to remove away the dirt and sweat accumulated on the face. The next step was Odomos because I cannot have the mosquitoes eating more than me.

 

The final step included combing my cute little hair and I got ready by 6:15pm.

 

But all my friends were still getting ready. That’s when it hit me that my makeup routine was just an embarrassment to all the makeup routines out there.

But my friends were kind enough to give me a makeover. Though they might have noticed my anxiety as they didn’t go overboard (thankfully).

They did some light pink dab -dab on my eyes and eyeliner (it is that black pencil-thing). And they kind of styled my hair in a different way which I loved very much.

 

After we all were ready, we headed down to fill our bellies.

 

The event was awesome. The entire hostel was glammed up so were all the girls in it. With their various attires everyone was walking along elegantly and the vibe around was perfectly elite.

Now no offense boys but your hostel night could not match our perfect vibe.

 

Everything happened at the allotted time. We all watched each performance respectfully and did an applause when it got over. We laughed and behaved as royalty.

 

But as soon as the Chief Guest left and the Warden gave the signal, and the DJ blared up. I was surprised to see the entire scenario change.

Guess long heals and dresses can’t really get in girls’ way when they want to party.

I was having a lot of fun even my favorite songs were playing, but as the clock struck 10:00 I knew I had to leave cause my fairy godmother’s magic lasts only till 10.

 

So, I slipped back into my room and changed into my comfy pajamas and got into bed. It then crossed my mind how was I going to sleep in all this noise when the DJ’s vibration was literally shaking my entire room but the next moment my eyelids gave the answer by closing and I ended up shutting off instantly.

 

On Saturday, I went to another event: Movie Night. I got into Movie club and there they conducted a short film making challenge. So, in their event, they were going to screen each team’s film. For this event, we were told to wear ethnic wear.

 

So, I re-wore the black lower from the previous day and my mother's colorful shrug on that black shirt.

 

It was a fun evening, watching everyone’s creativity, sitting and enjoying movies with my friends.

 

Even though our movie did not win anything, just seeing it being played on the big screen made my heart beat faster and, in the credits, when I saw myself as a script writer made me emotional. Who knows I start scripting more often now and you get a short film to watch every month.

 

As Sunday rolled in, I had another event to attend. But you got to admit that I had overworked myself this week, by getting ready, so I now made no effort to follow the required dress code and just went in normal jeans and t-shirt. It was a virtual stock exchange competition. The event was really engaging and lunch that they served was scrumptious but then we just got so tired and sleepy that we quit and went out. We ended the evening on a sweet note with some beautiful waffle sticks and ice-cream.

 

It was night time when I finally realized that it had been the first weekend I had not rushed home, stayed in college and still had fun.

It’s not like I had forgotten my parents or anything, but now after 4 months, I had finally started considering this place as my home too.

 

Indeed this metamorphosis is kind of magical.

 

 

The Petals that Broke off

 

As the roller coaster started to ascend, Sofie’s heart began to thump loudly, she held onto her seat tightly and closed her eyes, as she tried to put off her panic attack. 

Someone grabbed her hand, she looked up and saw her best friend, Jenny mouth, ‘You got this, girl.’

 

She felt better, yes, she can do this, for sure. No longer was she a scared and timid girl, she felt free and adventurous now. 

So, as the ride sped up, Sofie felt happier than ever on finally entering college but moreover she was glad to be the part of the coolest friend’s group ever. Jenny, Mia, Jack and Sam, have fitted in Sofie’s life like some missing puzzle pieces and they made her complete.

 

As the team of five got out of the ride; Jack said, “Now that’s what I call a ride.” Mia on the other hand said, “Well, I am still a bit dizzy from all that thrill.” Sam said, “The ride was just like the last one. Now let us go grab something to eat.”

 

But Jenny shouted over everyone’s conversation, “It’s shopping time guys.”

Sofie laughed at her friend’s bossy nature as they went to the stalls. Clearly, this amusement park idea had been a wonderful way to spend the weekend.

 

Reaching the jewelry section, Sofie spotted the prettiest flower necklace ever. It had 5 black petals with yellow highlights. There was a certain charm to it that pulled Sofie towards it. She didn’t realize that she had already taken out her wallet to buy it. 

When she went out to show it to her friends, they all had something to say. Mia exclaimed, “Wow Sofie! that's a pretty cool piece.” 

Sam commented, “But do you know whether it’s really made of something valuable to be priced this much?” “No, we don’t, but pretty things don’t come at petty prices,” snarked Jenny.

 

Jack laughed, “I just saw that it has 5 petals, every petal for each one of us, see this short and fat one, that’s Sam.” 

As Sam chased him off, the girls chuckled.

 

That night back in the hostel, Sofie was talking to her mother animatedly. It has been 3 months since she had met her mom and if she didn’t have her friends around her, she would have surely gone insane. Her mother had been her only friend during school years. 

Being an introvert, she never had any friends. Thankfully, Jenny took Sofie under her wing and she was added to the group here.

“And mom, do you know I got this awesome necklace, wait a minute, I will just send you a picture.”

 

As she was grappling with her things the necklace fell off the desk and shattered.

 

Two of its petals skid off while the remaining three held on barely.

 

As her mother consoled her. Sofie tenderly picked up the remaining necklace, just a feeble reminder to an awesome day she had.

 

The next morning, as they were having breakfast at their usual table, Sofie noticed that Mia had still not arrived. So, she asked Jenny, “Hey, has Mia already eaten today?”

 

Jenny replied with her mouth full, “Mia who?” 

Sophie thought Jenny was pranking her, so she said, “You know Mia, our friend, the smarty pants. Come on now, just tell me where she is, did she head for class, already?”

 

Jenny chuckled nervously, “Hey, I really don’t know any such girl, last, I remember that you were the sole nerd on board.”

 

Sophie couldn’t stop gaping at Jenny's poker face. So, she opened her phone ready to text Mia, but she couldn’t find her contact anywhere.

 

Mia was not present even on the class chat group.

 

How is this possible? Before she could work it out further, Jenny started pulling her to class.

“Come on, Sam is waiting for us, you know him, it would be like sitting next to a big grump if we reach a bit late.”

 

As they finally settled in class, Sophie scanned around to get any sign of Mia, but her red, curly haired friend was nowhere to be seen.

 

When the classes got over, Sofie asked Sam, “Hey, did you by any chance see Mia in class? or what about Jack, are they both hanging out together?”

 

Sam stopped short and said, “I don’t really know, who were they again?”

Sofie’s heart dropped. No, this couldn’t be happening, as Jenny and Sam looked at her with confused expressions.

 

Sofie said, “Okay guys, you can stop it now. It's not funny okay, tell them both to come out here, because your prank just got busted.”

 

Jenny came closer to her and spoke softly, “Sophie this is not a joke. Sam and I really don’t know any Jack and Mia. Maybe you hung out with them somewhere else.”

 

“No, we were a perfect group of 5 and if you don’t want to stop this silly prank right now, then I am leaving.”

 

Saying so, Sophie stormed off with her frustration building up. Back in her room, she tossed her bag on her table.

 

She saw another piece break off the necklace. “Yeah fall away, see if I care,” she shouted.

 

Soon, Jenny was knocking on the door and Sofie let her in. But she kept her back to her. Jenny said, “Um, okay, I get it you are giving me the silent treatment, but how about we find this Mia friend of yours?” 

“Yours? Mia is our friend, how can she just disappear? We were all hanging out together yesterday at the park.”

Mia tried to reason, “No, Sofie it was just the two of us.” She then went on to show pictures on her phone in which all of them were present but now there were only the both of them. 

Sofie said, “But, Sam was there with us, you know him right, he sat with us in class.”

Now, for the first time Sofie saw genuine concern on Jenny’s face, “Sofie I guess you are unwell, like seriously maybe it's flu or something, the entire day you have kept naming people who don’t even exist.”

 

Tears started to spring up in Sofie’s eyes, it couldn’t be happening. Sam was just there with them, 15 minutes ago.

Jenny was trying to console her but Sofie was shaking uncontrollably. That's when her eyes fell on the necklace.

5 petals, 5 friends. She looked at the necklace only holding 2 petals now. Her blood drained from her face.

She rushed over to it, “No, no, this can’t be true, I need to fix this.” As she frantically searched for some glue to piece it back together, Jenny came over and said, “Hey, calm down Sofie, forget about this necklace, I will buy you a new one.”

Jenny tried to take it away from her but Sofie held on and a tiny tug was enough for another petal to fall.

It was as if time slowed down, as Sofie saw the petal fall and her best friend fade away.

She sat on her bed and stared at the wall ahead, then she threw her necklace on the wall, because she can’t bear the thought of being all alone anymore.

She waited to turn into nothingness but she still remained there. 

She exited the room and bumped into another girl, “Ouch, watch where you are going.”

So, she was still alive, maybe they all will come back now that the necklace was destroyed. 

But she still couldn’t hold back the feeling of dread spreading through her body. 

So, she dialed up her mom, her last resort. 

Her mother didn’t answer and panic gripped her as Sophie redailed the number. Still no answer.

Seeing no hope she called her father, a number she rarely dialed as he was always so busy. 

But today, he picked it up and Sofie asked him urgently, “Dad, is mom okay?” 

Her dad gave a tired sigh, “Sofie, how are you?”

“Dad, where is mom? I need to know whether she is okay or not. I can’t be without her.” her knees buckled as she fell back on the ground and poured out the entire story to her father.

The next day, Sophie and her father were sitting in front of the physiatrist.

Maladaptive Daydreaming that’s what Sofie was diagnosed with.

The therapist kept rolling off on how this condition began when her mother died, when she was just 5.

The therapist was stating some remedies but Sofie had already zoned out from the conversation.

Her perfect life was broken petal by petal.

But on a positive side, her college life had just started and she was going to make a lot of friends.