Posted: 17 October 2009 at 12:40pm | IP Logged
This is my first ever proper writing experience. I wrote it in the last hour so forgive all the enormous errors here.
By Chance or By Choice
Ashlesha gaped as she felt violated all over again at what she was experiencing. The feeling never ceased. It was there within her as far as she can go back in her history without mixing dreams and reality or making up stuff. She recounted her options – if she could walk over to talk to her Momma and told her Meera completed her sentence and made her look like a fool, her Ma was going to tell her what a drama queen she was. Well, that was not new to Ashlesha and she did not need any third person to tell her that. She is a drama queen and she is proud of it. SO she walked back to her garden and started talking to her favourite fig tree. The fig tree never answered her when she spoke complained to it about but she knew somewhere it understood her and probably even felt bad for her. She was imagining things again but, oh well, it did not call her a silly fool and she was happy with it. She smiled feeling rejeuvenated and walked back home.
She walked into her room and picked her least favourite book. It pleased her immensely to pick the book she hated the most and wander into her dreamworld. She did not want to do any sort of injustice about books she liked. She liked to wander into her little fairy tales of how everything had a soul. She would not want to hurt the soul of her favourite book. She picked up her least favorite book and slowly started to think of when she meet Meera. Ashlesha knew she was not the kind of a girl who was "born with a silver spoon". She was happy with her own wooden spatula and her dreams of guardian angels making sure she got the best things in life. Even when she did not have the best things right now, she was sure they are on her way.
It was not like Aslesha hated Meera. Meera had crawled into Ashlesha's life when their mothers who were classmates in their highschool met after a long time. Later on Meera had moved into the next house. Since their mothers were classmates, the two families became more than neighbours. Meera and Ashlesha were not antithesis to each other. Ashlesha loved the pressure(even if she vehemently denied it) of doing things when it was needed the most and never before. She knew it was an utterly bad habit but she could not help it. She occasionally cribs about it and makes an attempt to change. One day she probably will change and show the world she can be the most awesome planner in the world too. Her friends loved her and would laugh at her when she fumbles but being destiny's darling kid and a surprising favourite always had help. She also planned on repaying it in quantity and quality. She was grateful for the help but they were suffocating her. Meera on the other hand was an only kid who started taking care of the house when her dad passed away. She was "THE MAN" of the house whose voice held the greatest power one would ever want. People's attitudes cannot be bound to circles and Ashlesha and Meera grew up and so did their life. Due to their proximity of their houses, Meera did spend a lot of time in Ashlesha's house too. Once when they were 12, Ash walked up to her on Mother's day and gave a beautiful peacock based origami. It was an act of love. Meera examined the little peacock and quipped at the lack of clarity and color that could have added more life. Ash was not okay with the criticism. She did it out of love and did not want to be scrutinized. She knew Meera was right in what she said but not the way it was put forward. She walked slowly and at a steady pace till she reached her backdoor and then ran all the way to her fig tree and poured her heart out. Love was not a competition. Love was never perfect. Ash knew Meera was different and had a heart of gold inspite of whatever karat it might be. She remembered her fun times with Meera when they both did their dance recitals together as kids. She told the fig tree and herself that good times were more precious and bad dreams were for their trash can. She wiped her tears away, washed her face and came back home. At night, she would laugh over the silly reason she cried for. Ash's silly questions just to bring life into a house were met with certainly appropriate answers from Meera. It always seemed to Ash that she was being censured. Meera and Ash's mom were surprised with Ash and her excessive time with her fig true. Meera having the curiosity of her age as well once decided to go to the fig tree as well and overhear. According to her, she was trying to Ash out of her weird behaviour by eavesdropping on her and finding the issues. Meera listened to all the complaints about her thrown to the fig tree. It was a peculiar turn of the phrase that "kewl" people try to use "I don't care a fig about you". Well this fig tree was important.
Meera wanting to do the right thing confronted Ash about the issues. She genuinely felt bad about having disturbed Ash's way of life and feelings. She promised Ash she would never try to judge her or overlook her. They hugged and promised each other immense self respect and private and public space. To Ash, it seemed that her guardian angel who resided on top of the fig tree helped her through the mess she had. She hopped skipped and jumped all the way to her room, hugged her mom on her way joyously and ran to bed. That was a deep and wonderful dream she had in ages.
Meera and Ash were now 16. Ash was truly amazed how less annoying Meera was ever since she came back from her month –long trip to Goa's Portuguese landscapes. Ash missed the annoying presence around but it was in a happy way. She was happy that Meera was not annoying her but she missed the mere presence.
As she sat with her new canvas and palette, Ash pondered over her next painting. It was a new hobby after seeing some princess find her prince through her paintings. She was dreaming a silly dream which took her to this form of expression. She wanted to paint her dreams. She started off as her mind took her. It was a hero. She wanted to paint Wolverine. Ash was 20 minutes into this image when Meera walked in and called it in several unpleasant synonyms of ugly, untained and silly. Ash was flummoxed. Well she didn't paint it for a competition. It was for herself and it was from a dream. She just felt a punch to her gut but then her gut was already a punching bag for quite some time. The pain was hardly there. She walked back to her fig tree but decided to talk without words. After all, angels don't need words.
Ash thought to herself "People don't change at all. They repeat the same stuff they promised not to repeat when given an opportunity. They can't help it. It is not by choice by which people change, it is because of a lack of chance".
She walked away back to her room to her princess diaries to her happy thoughts.
Life goes on.
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