My eyes met hers when I was coming back from the class. She, all dressed in blue with her blue bag and blue cycle, was rushing for her class towards the institute building. I hadn’t seen her, the blue lover, the joker, the clumsy girl, for quite a while in the hostel or outside, so I got a little awkward. I didn’t know how to react when she saw me and all came on my face was an embarrassed smile. Why was I embarrassed, I don’t know.
Suddenly, some memories of my school days flashed before me. There used to be a girl in my class. An intelligent, master in English, a high class elite kind of girl for that small town. I was always among the top three in my class but even so, I envied her, her knowledge. She may not have been the most successful student academically, but she was intelligent, the kind of intelligence, I may not have achieved at that time however much hard work I might put, given the limitations of surroundings.
She had transferred to our school from a big faraway city. More than anything, I envied that experience she had. I was also born in a bigger city. Why did I get to live in this town then? The endless prospects of a big city had always attracted me. Had I not been rotting here, I would have joined dance classes, martial arts classes, guitar classes and what not. Why was I here?
But the good student I was, I didn’t do anything, nor I had any intention to. What could have I done to her anyway? Better make friends with her. May be some of her experience helps me too. Who knows? I will be able to learn from her something after all. As the years passed by, we grew apart and got busy in ourselves. She changed too and I changed too, in many ways. She got adapted to the environment. She was not in THE group of my friends any way. She was in different section and we used to meet in one combined class only, for one year, so that was that.
Our paths crossed once again after four years, when she shifted to our class. Was she always there? Or had she gone to some other place and come back again? No idea. My reserved nature was coming out. I was growing quieter and quieter. I didn’t have anything to do with the world, people around me, though I was still talking to them. I wanted to talk to everyone, be everyone’s friend, but I was awkward again, not knowing what to do. I left it at that, with just the people I was comfortable with. Just Hi to others and that’s it.
Her grades had dropped down a lot after shifting to the class in which I was studying. Around the same time, a lot of weird things started happening in the class, like thefts, especially lunch boxes. She used to sleep in the class, something, Indian classrooms don’t get to see often. In my fourteen years of educational life, she was the first one to do that. After a lot of speculations, everybody came to the conclusion that it was her doing. Why we were so bent on that idea, I don’t know. But at that time, it looked the only plausible explanation of what was going on. Things weren’t well in her family side too probably. People stopped talking to her. And after that, things stopped happening too.
She tried to convince us. But we didn’t listen. And the good student I was, I didn’t want to associate myself with such kind of people. I never tried to know her side of story. Many of us didn’t. We totally isolated her. I don’t know how she endured everything for two years. Then she left the school.
At that time, it was just a small thing. Now I am here, looking at another girl, who was being mocked for her choices. I haven’t had any proper conversation with her. But the things I’ve heard are enough to see what people think of her. This girl is good with the art of baking. When anybody wants her help, they don’t even hesitate slightly to ask for her help. And the same day, they might be bitching about her.
She made a place in people’s heart by her talent. May be not all, but at least people look up to her when they need help. But she resembles that girl from six years ago too much. That girl couldn’t even do that. I was part of that too, bullying someone. Just that, the realisation hadn’t come till now.
We do so many things to hurt people with or without knowing. These kind of things make me disappointed in myself. Though I was one among the best, considered very intelligent, I wasn’t mature enough. The whole lot of eduction and titles don’t work. When I see myself as the person I was back then, all I can see is a black heart, a monster. Can’t say it’s better now, since I’ve met a whole lot of people and their mentality affects mine as happens with everybody. The set has changed, the scene has changed and the audience has changed too. Bullies have become bullied and vice versa has also happened. Some have left that kind of path and some have chosen the same after all those years. And where am I? I don’t know.
Where did that feeling that I’m good, so I must remain with good people come from? Who was I to judge people who was good and who was not. What was my definition of good – studious people, people who come in first ten in the class? I’m so ashamed of myself now. Will these criterion matter anyhow now? I’ve made a lot of people cry after all. And people say that I’m kind. I may have an attitude problem after all. And I try to justify it with my shyness when I hear something like this about me.
I can’t even apologize. And even if I do, it won’t give that girl, her two years back. All I know is, I don’t want to do anything like that ever again in my life, knowingly or unknowingly.
Was this a confession? Kind of. Was it true? A whole lot of it, yes but not all. What made me write it? I don’t know. Ah! So many unanswered questions…….
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