A Decade Later #2


A lot has changed in the last ten years. The confident and domineering Priya is lost somewhere behind the drooping shoulders and pale eyes.


We have hugged many times before, but something was definitely different about the way Priya hugged me today. It wasn’t a I’ve-missed-you-so-much hug, but a I-need-you-Shruti hug. So, after the obvious, hey! Ssup, how’s life, I couldn’t stop myself from asking what was really going on. And thus began the story.

The problem with us teenagers—or rather adolescents—is that we base our notions of life on books and films. I am sorry to say, but that’s not possible. Everything that’s pretty cannot be nice—just so you know, I too learnt this lesson the hard way. And so did Priya.

Finding herself among a happening bunch of kids in the new school, Priya had a hard time fitting in. She became conscious of her looks and the way she talked. The thing was that she had gained a lot of weight in the last two years of school. Thanks to that, she always thought of herself as ugly.

Sometimes it hurts me to see how we are so bothered about the way the world thinks. I mean why… who are they to decide how you look and what you should wear. It wouldn’t be wrong to say that all of us have been through a phase where we have tried to fit in and become the person that society wants us to be. Many of us still do, and my advice to all of you—that I am going to give Priya as well—is f*** the world. But it’s easier said than done.

I could see the pain in Priya’s eyes. It was as if they were calling out to me for help. And I really wanted to, but there was more to the story.

Priya had somehow managed to survive the two years of high school after which she decided to change her situation. She started exercising and was all fit to go as she entered a new phase of her life—college. But her problems didn’t end there. With college came the problem called love.

The thought of being in love sounds beautiful and exciting till the moment your relationship becomes the cause of your disappointment.

“We accept the love we think we deserve,” but who decides what we deserve.


A Viewspaper Fan

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