Sunday, April 7, 2013

Liberation.

        I knew he was kind. And nice. He had been the quiet one always. And now he was talking to me. No he was chatting with me on Facebook.
       'Ummm hi,' was the first line.
       'Hiiiiiiiiiiii,' I replied happy to have met him online after four years.
        'You look absolutely hot.'
       'Ahh you have got to tell me something I don't know!'
       'You have changed a lot. Where is that uncouth little girl I knew?'
      'Argh trust me I just have changed my appearance but deep inside I am still the same old person.'
       'Oh!....'
       'I suppose I am talking to you now because I didn't have anything to say. I suppose I am talking to you now because your hotness is acting like a catalyst.' he added.
       'Oh.' I was a little disappointed. Thank god he was miles away from me and what my face bore he would never know.
       'Life is unpredictable. You would think I was totally crazy if I had told you that 8 years ago that I would be chatting with you all night.'
       'Why?' Now I was clueless.
       'I had always wanted to talk to you.But I never thought we would.'
      'We talked! You are confusing me. I mean we shared the same desk for nearly six months and we were in the same class for 2 years and to add we studied in the same school for many years!'
       'All we talked about was aeroplanes and missiles.'
       I grinned to it. He had a profound understanding in aeronautics and things that blasted. We would design on the desk and then he would always find flaws to my designs and correct it. It didn't make any sense to me but I was thoroughly impressed by it that one day I went to the library to find some books on aeroplanes but to no avail because the Thimphu library was in destitute paucity of such books. That always made me wonder how did he acquire all that in his head. I googled and then gave up and always relied on him to design planes and black birds as he called them.
        When I didn't reply, he asked me a question which I thought no one would ever ask me.
        'Why did you hate me so much?'
        I didn't hate him. I hated them. He was one of them. But I didn't hate him. Not to be too obscure or too obvious to answer I thought for a while and typed this, 'Your group was despicable.'
       'You are generalizing. I want to know why you hated me?'
        The question was uncalled for and I cringed. 'I didn't hate you.' I admitted.
       A blankness followed. I should not use the word silent for when one is chatting on the laptop one is generally silent. No words spoken. Only typed.
        'I always thought you had some issues.' he said after a while. I was on another page reading about Lockheed. I knew he would already know about what I was just reading.
       My face bore a wariness.  I had talked about my issues to everybody else after I had long graduated from high school. In fact I had talked about my issues to people I barely knew because it made me feel better. It made me heroic. I was that little person who grew up to be noticed by everybody and then I decided to open up. And I talked about it to everybody. How I conquered the world despite being troubled back in school. And gradually my stories seemed to exaggerate until it passed into mawkish sentimentality. By then it was too late. I had talked about it to most of the people I knew and I knew then I had to stop it immediately. Probably everyone now assumed I was a mendacious personality.
       Now I didn't know if I should proceed. My fingers gave in. 'I am not a lesbian in case if you are wondering.'
       'OK.' He replied in caps. I presumed he was terrified.
       'I was sick of all the taunting you guys put me through regarding my tomboy status and assuming that I slept with girls. It was the same everyday and I was so bored. I was fed up of the same old same old jokes about me'.  I didn't want to admit I was affected. I was not bored. I was hurt. It affected me a lot.
      'I know. I tried to stop them.'
       'You did?'
      'Yeah I know they went over board. It was terrible the everyday teasing and the fights. It was not even squabbles. I have always admired your will to stand up to them.'
      It caught me off guard. My mind went back to some seven or eight years ago. The memory still afresh in my head. He was next to me in our dark red uniform and we are drawing aeroplanes. And then the derogation came from the group of boys who sat behind me. The back benchers! It is a blessing to be taller than most of your classmates but it also made you prone to being placed at the back. My class teacher made me sit at the very back because I was the tall girl in my class. And that is when he and I had been desk mates. He was kind I knew the very first day he sat next to me. He was very popular. I had known about him ever since we were in lower school. But I never pictured him joining them. He was one of them. A part of their group who never took part in their groupism. It hit me then that he had never bullied me.
       'I didn't suffer from any inferiority complex but coming to school knowing it would be the same taunting all over was very depressing.' I wrote.
       'I am sorry you had to go through all that!'
It was real. It was genuine. I wanted to see his face then. A small smile crept on my lips and I sighed as soon as it had appeared because he would never know his apology made me happy.  All that I had grudged towards and waited for vengeance disappeared. And the troubling thing was he wasn't the culprit. It was his friends. So why did his apology mean so much?
       I made smiley faces and sent it to him. It appeared too loud. My smile at the moment was a silent one.
       'I am through with these issues now.' I told him.
       He sent me a smile.
       'I wish I had stood upto them. I wish I had noticed you more. You are so beautiful now. BUt you had always been cute and sweet even if my friends told you were downright ugly.'
       I smiled actually. And laughed. That was very candid. And I decided to be mean.
      'You didn't because you didn't want to condescend your popular boy image standing up for a lesbian like me.'
      'Ouch. Hot girls are mean girls.' he wrote.
      'I am not mean.'
      'I am glad how you turned out to be. You fought well and you won your battle.'
      'I still have plenty of battles to conquer. And as we speak of I battles I will have to conquer my books for now. I am sorry I have to leave now.'
      'Ok. Goodbye. And I would have still talked to you even if you were the same old little girl.'
       I closed all the tabs and switched off my laptop and headed towards the library with a large book smiling as I swung it from side to side. I felt free. Light as the lightest bird, probably a humming bird. I know then that I would stop talking about my stupid issues to others and that I would grow up without grudges.

                                                        dr. Diksha.

5 comments:

Langa Tenzin said...

That was a nice story, Diksha. True. Sometimes being a part of a group doesn't necessarily mean we endorse to everything the group or our friends do. :) Enjoyed reading it. Keep writing.

Tshewang Dorji said...

Interesting!...this takes me to my own time as a young boy with silent crush!..:-)..

Diksha Chhetri said...

Thanks Tenzin. I shall be writing more. :)

Diksha Chhetri said...

Haha Tshewang, I hope you have opened up about your silent crush. It's better you let her know.

Anonymous said...

Ah the high school. Good story.