My bags were packed and so I left Madras with a heavy heart. I was completely unsure about everything. In my first month I tried to adjust to my “new” life in Bangalore. Being with my p…
BANGALORE: I was home…but only for a bit
My bags were packed and so I left Madras with a heavy heart. I was completely unsure about everything. In my first month I tried to adjust to my “new” life in Bangalore. Being with my parents was great. I had missed them so much. I left home when I was a preteen and came home as an adult. They missed my teenage years. I cannot imagine what they must have gone through. They too had to adjust to me now and I knew it was not going to be easy for either of us.
The surroundings were familiar, some friends were still there, but it wasn’t the same as it was when we were kids. Everyone seemed to have grown up too…..duh! Why did I think that people would be the same? But some things remained unchanged. The narrow mindedness of the community remained the same and having a direct personality did not help me re-assimilate. They couldn’t understand why I couldn’t be more girlish (whatever that meant). So I kept away from the community, which seemed to work for all parties involved.
Mom helped me with my admission into school and we finally settled on an all girls college. Now there is something you should know about me. Most of my friends while growing up were guys, and I was never one of the “girly-girls” I was always one of the guys. So for me, this was going to be an interesting experience. Since I had moved back, I was not interested in anything, and was becoming anti-social which was new for me. I couldn’t understand what was going on with me. Thus started my “rebellious” phase.
Life at home had its moments and, just like most families, we got along most days. We also had our share of “not so nice days”. I had several outbursts at home, causing my mom and me to constantly butt heads. My outbursts stemmed from not being able to study what I wanted, not being able to be with my friends, and then finding out that he may have found someone else. Mom had this notion that I blamed her for sending me to Madras. I never did and I couldn’t convince her otherwise. She and dad had their reasons and I didn’t want to know why. I was exactly like my mother, and yet different. She was more emotional than me, and I was more aggressive than her, but she was my everything. She was more forgiving of people, I was not. One of my character flaws(which I am still working on)-I don’t usually give second chances to anyone-family or friends.
Why did it seem like life was about to get more complicated? Maybe I was wrong….bring on college life.
Late 80’s/Early 90’s: Part 2 End of school life
So the early 90’s and pretty much the rest of the decade was a mixed bag of emotions. The nightmares were back in full force, my gender played against me, my first kiss and then I had to move cities again…How did I survive?
The Nightmares:
Waking up screaming for my mother became a very common thing in the early 90’s with me. The suppressed memories from my early childhood days, revived the worst kind of nightmares, right around when I was trying to figure out my way in this world. I needed a support system more than ever. There was no one to turn to, no one to talk to about my fears, and no one to advice me at all. The only way I could control these fears, was by immersing myself completely in my sports, music and friends. But even my closest of friends had no clue about what I was going through, as I never wanted to burden anyone.
School: Old and New
There was so much going on at school. We had a school strike-I don’t remember exactly why, but it was when I was fearless and defied the seniors who stormed into our class while we had a test.
I moved to a new school (9th & 10th grade), and made more new friends, who were just as fun as the old lot. Cake fights, crazy dandiya nights, movies, were just some of the fun things we did at this new school. At the new school, there was a little boy, who would end up being a huge motivating force in my present life. I would still go back to Asan to see my old classmates, and that is when I noticed him. What was his name? He was my neighbor! I used to see him leave for school every morning, and return in the evening. I don’t remember how we started talking, but when we did and I realized we both were mental cases, equally possessive, and both crazy about each other. When I did move back to my old school, he was one year my senior. He was the first one I slow danced with, and the first boy I kissed. I remember one occasion, where he had to be locked in his classroom because he was mad at me, probably something that I did to annoy him. I won’t go into any more detail about him, as my parents read this too . But he introduced me to one of my favorite genres of music and I absolutely love him for that. He did eventually ask me to marry him but I couldn’t, because I loved his parents a lot, and I knew exactly what his mom wanted for him, so I had to let go.
My final year of school was lovely-our class got suspended for a week, because someone decided to set off fire crackers in the closet of our classroom. How and who did it, I still have no clue. But it was in the middle of our accounting class, and boy was the professor pissed off. The principal accused me, saying since I come early to school to practice, it could have been me. What a crazy year, and I loved every bit of it. I won two regattas, got the best outgoing sportswoman of the year and passed my 12th grade.
I had some very close friends by the time I finished school. One silly one lived around the block, and his home was my second home. So I had parents away from my own, who loved and adored me. I also learnt how to drive-the Ambassador was my favorite. I used to drive down Mount Road extremely fast-some of my friends still shudder at those memories. There were a lot of hospital visits, as my grandparents were in and out of them. My two sweethearts would sometimes bring food to the hospital, and keep me company. I hated the smell of hospitals. On my last day of school, my grandpa was shocked that I was done. He had no clue as to which grade I was in. So he said the next thing was for me to get married. I didn’t know how to react and just said no, I wanted to study.
We graduated high school, and were ready for the crazy world of college. I thought I would continue my studies in Madras, but other plans were being made. I got into the Hotel Management program, and even secured a scholarship to go to Switzerland for a month, but I was informed I couldn’t because I was a girl. I didn’t know that my gender would play against me. That was not how I was raised. What a low blow to my self-esteem.
So this was the end of my time in Madras, before I left back for my hometown. Uncertain of what I was going to do, as I wanted to do my management, but settled for Arts, and I knew that I was wasting my time doing it. I left heartbroken, and with a lot of pain. I felt at that time that I was unwanted, and didn’t want to leave my amazing friends behind. They had been my everything for the last eight years, and the one who had taken my heart, how was life going to be without him. More adventure awaited me, as I prepared for my new life with my parents. Gosh I had missed them so much and was looking forward to living with them again, but I was going to miss living with my grandparents too.
Late 80’s/Early 90’s-part one
Okay…you guys rock. Thank you for the overwhelming support, encouragement and tips. It means the world to me. Though I think, you all are just being really kind to me, I am not that good at writing my thoughts very well. It is a work in progress. Okay, so here goes…the mid to late 80’s.
After spending the first half of my awesome childhood in Bangalore with my parents, I moved to Madras (now Chennai), to live with my grandparents. I loved my grandparents, and didn’t think much of the move. So I had a new school, new friends, new environment…you get the gist.
My life without my parents:
I enjoyed being in Madras, but not being able to share any of my achievements with my parents gnawed at me. I felt alone a lot of the times, but luckily I had some awesome friends that kept me sane. I used to find solace in music too-I loved to dance, and much to the dismay of my neighbors, who had to put up with the loud music. There were trees and walls to climb, places to just run around and be a kid. But not being able to share my day with anyone was a little depressing. And I was not really a “kid” anymore. I was growing up, and fast. The values my parents had instilled in me at a very young age were never shaken without them. I continued being honest with my grandparents, and could never break that trust. So I immersed myself in sports, studies, music and my friends. Without my friends, I would have probably gone completely mental.
School was a lot of fun. My classmates were a crazy, fun bunch and most of us still keep in touch after all these years(yay for FB). There were so many new experiences- from my first crush to my first heartbreak, my best friend leaving and also quickly learning that some people are born with an evil streak.
I was so naive and silly back then(not much has changed), but they were simpler fun times. I still remember one of my sweetest friends(you know who you are) waiting for me at the school gate every morning, with Neem flowers in his hand, because I loved them. He was my first crush, and boy did we fight, but he is still the perfect sweetheart even today. It was also the time when I was at my fittest. I was on the track team, volleyball, kho-kho, and I used to row. I also got to sing with one of the sweetest guys in my class, who sadly passed away, leaving us shocked. That was when I first realized, we were not invincible-Life was too darn short. I wanted to do so much with my life, but little did I know about the obstacles I was going to face.
This was the period when suppressed memories were also brought back, like a slap on my face. Damn, the monster and nightmares were back.
America by Default
First of all, I am not a writer, I just suffer from verbal diarrhea.
The reason for my title is actually quite simple. It is not related to the economy or anything like that. I never had America in my life plan. There was no intention to ever move here. However, “life happened”, it became my home and after almost 20 years of being here, I do still call it home, but there is something that is nagging at me. Something I need to figure out. So let’s start this story from as far back as I can remember.
A brief history: I was born in India to two amazing soulmates. I was their “love child”. They were married, but even then, there was drama. My paternal grandparents were upset their son was marrying a Sunni woman…blah, blah, blah! But after I was born they were more accepting. My mother was on the darker side so she had to deal with racism in the family, and so did my brother. I was raised to be very independent, honest, respectful and empathetic.
I am going to write this in different parts and it may be haphazard. I make no apologies for that as this is straight from my heart.
This is my therapy 😉
Coming up next: Late 80’s/Early 90’s
americabydefault 