I have always been great friends with her. Right since she joined my school and after waltzing around the groups, settled in with mine. Ever since she spoke and, as she says, found a connect in my words, and all I remember, we have been friends since then. That is, until now.
We were shuffled into different classes last year. A fair balance if you think about it, two years together, two apart. So I guess it changed last year. I guess the difference in sections and floors brought with it a mist. From cordial talks that required little effort to continue, we have come to “And? …And?….And?” From ecstatic telephone conversations, and endless laughs at meaningless jokes, we have come to cocking eyebrows and stares. From tightly gathered ponytails and run-loving legs we have, sigh, come to gossip too, yes, gossip.
And the comfort in sitting and talking is itching. The easy-ness in sharing is rough. And the excitement in hearing is slowly, and still slowly, breaking into routine. And all the cause behind the change is not un-willingness, not un-eagerness, not new friends…. but time. And the change it has brought in me, and her, and how i painfully seek something from her and can’t ask for it. (What, do I go to her and tell her what to say to me?) In response to the unmerciful awkwardness, I ask, and get asked, if there is something wrong, at home or somewhere, I am dying to blame this atrocious hurt on an external cause.
But it’s nothing I know. Just change. Old, grave change.
And what do I do? What ‘take’ must I adopt? Anger? Hostility? Irritation? Maybe they’ll work with her, the past’s closeness keeping the bond still fast…. but, it’s like a crack in the mirror. So- Ignorance? Outside help? Or the culprit, Time, itself? I don’t really know…
But what about him? He, also my friend? What about this frustration I set off today, in a moment of tension? What with him- Anger? Hostility? Irritation? …..Ignorance? Outside help? Time? ….. or maybe now, the Knife?
Since this is my first post on WordPress, or on a blog in fact, I want to start with a flashback motion picture of getting here. No, you don’t have to sit through a lesson of ‘My History’ and I sincerely don’t intend to make it like that, this is just a story! A story of what caused a school-girl to set up a blog and start writing out to the wide world, for no reason, and with no aim.
When you are in tenth grade, no-one reminds you that Fridays call for the special, white uniform, and the excuse “I didn’t remember” is just as if you didn’t speak at all. Because before you realise it, they are calling you sophomores, and you may not be ready to act the part, but you do go around boasting the sheer fact that you’re senior to one more class this year. When half the year has gone by, you’ll realise you might just have boasted about breathing.
So, with a new academic session rolling in, I had new choices to make. No, not those resolutions they force us into at the assemblies, but choices literally, as in what art subject I wanted to opt for and so on. Half of the decisions depend on what I want to do, and the remaining on the number of people who will give company. With that, the focus on friends comes in. Who is doing what and why? And can I join?
So, okay, there’s lots going on, but why blog? And since there is so much ‘on’ already, really, WHY blog?
Because sometimes, in the flurry, I want to be heard, as a girl who’s expressing. Now with so much to control in the first month, I can’t get authorities to relish the change with me, and by the time one’s in senior school, children are already deciding their careers and all, and they just can’t listen to idle discussion in the first week. So, however ardently may I write, I don’t get an audience to share the butterflies! (Not that blogging promises that, but at least I am out and available!)
With my loyal orange-back notebook in my bag, I went to school for two whole weeks and adapted to the early morning rise, after the oh-so-good end-of-term vacation. I kept on writing the first few days, but into the end of the week, we knew it wasn’t too much a rush to not talk, so the notebook slipped back in the bag more often. And people started listening, because we really didn’t care it was tenth, we were still buddies!
Yet, I am writing.
Because I realised you don’t need to be alone to need a blog! You only need to be free enough. I don’t need to have those standing-alone-on-a-New-York-street-while-the-crowd-pushes-away kind of nightmares to want to blog, WordPress would go crazy if it was so!
So, I am blogging, and hope to do regularly, because I want to write out! And I suggest anyone with a comment just drop it down there because, hey, I appreciate it!