No Title.

It’s been a while, and two more scrolls of college acceptances have been received. It really feels great that a college out there wants you out of so many of their applicants, and I can’t help but feel absolutely honored. But with March rolling in, with scrolls that matter even more about to be delivered, my insecurity is rolling yet at another peak. But then I remind myself, that even in the worst of worst situations of what may come this next month, I still have Chapel Hill to run to – which is truly a dream come true.

And because I started off with talking about college, this is going to start extremely hypocritical – but I have ready my justification for what is to be argued. You see, I’m sick of people talking about college – comparatively. Don’t worry about where he’s going or she’s going or where that kid in the other block is going. Don’t get mad because you have a few higher points in the SAT, yet you got rejected over him. Don’t justify your rejection by saying you applied for a “harder major”. When you do get a letter that’s not in your favor, don’t blame the college or your counsellor or someone else; it was you. It was either fate, or you weren’t good enough. And I’m tired of hearing how people think they didn’t get something they “deserved” because they worked hard “enough”. How do you know how much is enough, and how do you know what you truly deserve? There’s probably thousands of kids out there working nights and beyond, while I’m watching television. Now, don’t get me wrong – I’m not saying don’t feel the freedom to have fun. All I’m trying to say is that, don’t give yourself your own measure of what you deserve. Because I may tell myself that I worked hard enough to get to College X, but when someone else who’s worked 10x harder or has a special talent that I may not have looks at me, they’ll know the reason. Because trust me, it’s either just your fate/luck or more likely, you just didn’t have something that the university was looking for. That’s not a bad thing mind you, it’s just it wasn’t your home. So stop claiming a place is your home, when clearly you haven’t ever lived there. Now, coming back to the hypocritical justification of mine. I think everyone is pledged to feel that sense of worry or that intimidation of whether or not you’re going to get into a school. But stop comparing! Don’t look at your numbers against hers; don’t peek into his transcript and feel a sense of authority or panic. It’s not all in the numbers; I’ve seen it first-hand. Think of your dreams, your path in the long-run. And now, feel that feeling again.

And hey, don’t make it all about college. College, like I said before, is only our next home for 4 years. It’s not our forever and it’s not going to rank me as a person. And please, stop making all our conversations about college. I mean sure, it’s the biggest thing of senior talk, but the only thing?

And hey Bob, this is probably one of the so many thing that make me feel drifted.

It hasn’t been the same for a while. I don’t feel the magic, I don’t feel the passion. I don’t know if I’m in it for the past, or because I don’t want to wreck the future. I don’t know if I’m in it for it, or because I’m dependent now. I don’t agree with the things you do. Compromises are only getting more and more. It doesn’t feel any different when we don’t converse for a long time. I don’t have any answers; I think I do, but I think I’m too scared to acknowledge them. Because as much as I don’t know, I know I still feel. But are these feelings strong enough to keep going, I don’t know.

Oh on another note, haven’t done much this weekend (I don’t really have anything to do anyways except some citations in my assignments), except go to Starbucks twice with family, hit the mall, watch movies with parents, have dinner to celebrate the arrival of a scroll, a family get-together at home, watch Cricket with family and be experienced to my Dad throwing club soda in my hair because I called him a bad-luck charm. So you know what? I guess I have done much. Because at the end of the day, family will always be greater than anything to come. I think my list of priorities is set to family, and then work, and then come in the friends. Which is why I don’t really go out much in general, and my procrastination levels have gone down to an all-time low. And I haven’t been more proud than ever.

I’m sorry this post is off of the typical blog style, and sort of all over. Just a few things ringing straight off on top of my cerebrum.

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The Scroll

Tell us about something that happened to you in real life last week — but write it in the style of a fairy tale.

Once upon a time lived a rather, ordinary looking princess with dark brown hair and matching eyes, which looked at the world through a different window everyday. She was a dreamer and a deep thinker who would stand by the castle windows and look at all the people passing by. She would make up stories for all the people passing by and live in her other world of fantasy.

School was surprisingly one of the Princesss’ favorite places to go to. Mostly because she’d stand in the clothes of her alter ego – the happy one who was constantly smiling, the one who’d laugh at her own jokes, the one who’s life seemed to be tailor-made and perfect.

But she’d walk back to the castle halls, to shed her clothes and slip back into her true self. The one who felt insecure, the one who felt ugly, the one who lived in constant fear of imperfection.

She never believed what the other princes, princesses and the royal family used to tell her. That she was going to be perfectly fine in her endeavor, that she was going to end up to be a beautiful Queen – she never believed.

Her insecurity began to grow, with all her friends back in School receiving scrolls of acceptance to more and more universities. She knew patience was the key and that her scrolls were yet to deliver – one any time now and a couple in March. She sighed, the scroll she was going to receive now was probably going to be a rejection anyways.

With every passing day, she grew impatient; it was drowning her. She was taking everything too hard, too seriously upon herself. One day, the scroll finally arrived during one of her classes.

Her hands began to tremble, her eyes began to blink rapidly, her voice began to shake. Her favorite prince seemed to already predict the fate of the letter and wanted me to tear it open quick; one of her other favorite princesses stood by her side and told her to open it when she was ready. So, the princess sat for 2 whole hours, in apprehension and preparing herself for what may come.

It was time for the next class. She thought she was going to go back to the Castle and open it with the King and Queen. But her heart wouldn’t let her wait. Patience may have been always virtue, but at this point, she was seconds away from figuring out an answer.

With the princess’s soul-sister on one side, an approval from the King to go ahead and open the scroll when she was ready, the clock had just ticked 11:11. She closed her eyes, made one final wish and tore open the letter

She processed every letter in a rush. She didn’t read the first paragraph properly; she rushed to the last sentence of it. But she didn’t understand it…or did she? Was the scroll for real? She read the first sentence one more time – this time, slightly slower.

The princess squealed and held her friends’ arm. She was accepted. They squealed yet again. But then, the princess had her doubts. Did she really read the letter right? Together, they read the letter again. No doubt, the princess was really accepted.

The scroll wasn’t a rejection from college, it was an acceptance.

For a good while, her alter ego had seemed to shed away, replaced by her positive one. It was over a week and it was the same. Because she began to believe that miracles did really exist. She began to believe that there was more to come, especially to those who wait. She began to truly believe what she always wanted to believe – that karma existed.

The princess skipped back to the Castle, still in her clothes of her truly happy self.

Because she thought she deserved it.

The End.

Dear Little Sister,

It’s been six years.

Six long years, and I’ve seen you grow in front of me.

I remember the first time I went to the kennels, just about the time when I was still very scared of dogs. We looked at a few cute puppies that were let out of their cages, and they ran all about. I didn’t admit it back then, but I was freaking out. Did I really want a dog? These puppies seemed way too scary, maybe I shouldn’t get one? But then, you came.

You wouldn’t look up at any of us around you; you tried to hide into this little corner to the back of the motorcycle and dig yourself back into hiding. But Janaki Ramulu picked you up against your two arms, and yet, you wouldn’t look at him or into my eyes right next to him. You just kept looking at the ground, shaking your tail in fear. You seemed to be more scared than I was, and that was clearly saying a thing. But Nicky, that innocence, that naiveness, I knew I made the right choice by adamantly not wanting to see any other puppies and get you.

I looked at amma and nana with huge eyes and clasped my hands together about to beg to get you. But you hit all three of our hearts at once, you little monster. So, as random as it may have sounded back then, that casual visit to the kennels was the best decision in my entire life.

We signed a few, quick papers, paid the money and gave a quick visit to your parents’ cage. I’m so sorry you weren’t able to meet them, but I swear to you, they were the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen to date. But of course, you have the genes of beauty all in you – your parents and grandparents all champions of dog shows. No wonder the way you sway reminds everyone of a cat-walk.

And then they passed you on into my arms. The moment I’ll never forget.

I remember our car ride back home, and how hot your body was, how scared you seemed to be. We got you back home, and gave you that carpet, the food bowls and the toy. All you did was walk to the sofa, and try to hide behind it.

What were you back then, Nicky thali?

But yes, that shower Dad gave you seemed to do it. You seemed to feel so much more comfortable. And the next day after that? The same thing. With every passing day, you became a deeper part into the family.

But I’m not going to lie. The first 3 months after we got you home were probably my biggest regrets. Nicky, I was so scared of you! I’d run away from you, remember? I’d get all those lectures from Daddy asking me why I even wanted a dog in the first place. Why was I scared of a little, naïve, dumb dog like you, I will never know. I think it was the teething stage. Because hey, that’s actually slightly scary.

But I’m glad that didn’t last too long. The fear passed away with time, and you began to become a part of me.

We moved houses and you had to move from living inside the house to outside, because of the marble. I don’t know how you got used to the change, but I’m so proud of you for doing so.

It’s been 4 years since the change. But the change seemed to change tracks for a while. I’d see you less often, you weren’t there to watch television with us intently when grandma was watching her lame Telugu serials, you wouldn’t run into dad’s room because of the cooler air temperature – it was different.

And hey Nicky? I mean this from the bottom of my absolute heart. I’m sorry if along the way, I’ve seemed to come off as loving you less. I know there have been so many times when I felt too lazy to walk you around, or not sit out because of the mosquitoes. But I hope you know how much I wish I translated the same love to you. Biggest regret.

It’s true. I really wish you’d understand how much you mean to me. I really wish I could time-travel and have a re-start. But I know I can’t. But if I could, I would’ve made sure I cut that time on Facebook or watching television, by spending a full hour with you, instead of a rushed 15 minute walk. Because you deserve it baby girl, you really do.

Words cannot describe how much you mean to me and how much you’ve taught me, you little monster.

The way you wag your tail and come running to me everyday after school. The way your face lights up and you run all around in circles when we’re about to take you for that brisk 15 minute walk. The way you look deep into my eyes when I spend those rare, long stretches to just sit next to you – you put your paws and half your body on me, scared that I might leave or sometimes, even when you’re really sleepy, you make sure you don’t close your eyes completely, because I might leave just about again.

My little baby, you’re the kind of person I want to be one day. Strong, patient, forgiving, smart, beautifully majestic both inside and out and someone who loves more than her heart can contain.

Nicky, again, I’m so sorry I haven’t been there the way I promised to be there for you. I have about 6 months left here in India, before I leave to college. I promise to you there will be a change. I’ll fight for it, if it doesn’t happen. I’ll make sure I spend more time with you, I’ll make sure we have future days you can come into the house (we can figure out your marble problem later), I’ll make sure I’ll be able to show you how much you really mean to me kanna.

And after I leave too, I’ll make sure Sai takes on the same responsibility. Because we all love you the same.

It’s just, along the way, we’ve forgotten the things that really matter the most, and got lost in our own, other words of play and tension. We forgot that there’s the 5th member of our family, waiting for us to give her a little pat.

Nicky, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Don’t you ever think you’re different from the rest of family; you’re a part of us.

I love you so much, thanks for everything Nicky.

Watching you grow from the tiny, little 2-month puppy you were to the fierce, and strong girl you are today, was a privilege.

Happy 6th birthday little sister <3

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