Dear Prince Charming

Dear Prince Charming,

I saw you walk down our favourite lane, hand-in-hand with the girl next door everyone speaks about.
Scarlet dress, blue eyes, supple skin, brave heels.
I notice how you take your steps with her, examining and thinking, mapping and wondering, either to put your heel down before your toe or otherwise, just so that your shoe makes a louder noise.
You hold her hip, like you practiced with me, rounded around her waist so perfectly.
And she melts over you like chocolate sauce on my sundae, merging together the disastrous imperfections.
Both of you fail to notice me walk down the same street, struggling my way into the house with bags of bonbons for my younger sister and groceries for my nagging mother.
I observe how slowly your lips break into a smile and she laughs throwing her head back and turning to you.
I wonder which joke you had told her, was it the one about the shop we used to buy racquets from? Or about how your father dealt with the police complaint?
Dear Prince Charming, I know you so well that I understand how limited your sense of humour is. But repetition makes it funnier and our jokes never get old.
I can still remember the night your hand melted into mine and you held me through the night, just in comfortable silence.
And how you held two cups of coffee in your hand for two whole hours outside the interview hall, expecting me to walk out in need of it..
I heard from the redhead neighbour we usually hang out with, that you asked her to the summer dance. It surprised me. Our rhythmic practices for three odd months is wasted upon a girl we used to make fun of?
She wears short skirts, red lipstick, stunning mascara and phony personality. She stood you up, the night we first spoke and you choose to take her to the dance we've practiced for together.
She could never belong to anybody and here I am, giving all I have to just bring you back to me.
But I cross my heart in pregnant pain and realize that, Dear Prince Charming, you're settling for less than a Princess and I'm positive that this is your loss.

Metamorphosis

"Smells, like music, hold memories. She breathed deep, and bottled it up for posterity."
-The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy

People evolve, some grow out and adapt to the society and others, they grow in and find solace within the confines of their rooms. The latter is like a butterfly not wanting to fly, as it misses being a caterpillar, no one had told her (the butterfly) that she needn't revert back in order to keep what she had.
I walked down the lane I used to love,today. The smell of the greenery transported me back to the days I cycled down the same streets. I watched a few kids ride across me, they might have been a few years younger than me and it hit me, the fact that the desperation of being social had got to me so deep, that I forgot the joy of being left alone,just to myself. And I remembered this journey, this metamorphosis, this growth, this cycle of life that is and will always continue to define you as a person. The transformation from silent walks down a few streets, alone, humming to myself, to cycling with another friend whom I never spoke to, to riding shotgun in my car and looking at these streets as if they deserved nothing but pollution; from green trees to their expressive autumns, to the shade during the summer, to their disappearance and non existence; from a girl whose silence spoke volumes, whose gestures were just adorable, to a blunt, lost, depressed, lonely teenager. The revelation of this transformation just beat the conscious in me that told me I have had a good time as an extrovert.

"Change is one thing. Acceptance is another."
-The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy

I never realised when my life started to revolve around people, their expectations, the society, my family, I just never knew how things flipped over for me. From the silent, keep-to-myself, I just broke out of the shell and started finding comfort in other people's words and beliefs. And unknowingly, my life diverted onto a track that was meant to be mine but was never going to stay too long. The stuff that once made me enjoy life, defined happiness for me were no longer a part of life. There were people, too many people, to even know if it was actually a dream. The joy of privacy never excited me, it always had to be shared, people always had to know. In fact, the little things like drizzles on a Saturday afternoon or hot Maggi couldn't make me happy anymore. To be able to adjust, to be able to understand, to be able to fit in were the primary keys of life and I learnt the art of impressing and yes, dominating. But things that are not meant to be don't stay along with you forever, they fade away, as simply as they came in. They're flashy, momentary excitements which sends chills down your spine by their very existence but they are never definitions of life, never who you are ought to be.

"Human beings are creatures of habit, and it is amazing what kind of things they can get used to."
-The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy

The butterfly cannot become a caterpillar again, but Hope that her counterparts will reach her soon, keeps her going, keeps her alive. But it changes her forever. Because hope is never concrete, just its presence in the abstract sense can help you survive, but can never help you become happy.
Depression knocks on my door every now and then, and it is unexplainable, the pain. It just comes and goes on its own. But finding pieces of yourself and putting them back together, walking down the same old roads, loving the movies you regret missing, reading and rereading your favourite poems, cycling down with a stranger whose presence doesn't disturb you, will keep you away from the world filled with people. With material satisfaction, with expectations, with promises, with futures.

It's a cycle. Life always is, there is no escape from the past. One can never escape one's own roots, no matter how much we try to let go. We still belong here, within the confines of our own rooms and we are answerable only to ourselves because the only guarantee of a future you have, is you.

 "Anything is possible in Human Nature. Love. Madness. Hope. Infinite Joy. Of the four things that were Possible in Human Nature, Rahel thought that Infinnate Joy sounded the saddest."
-The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy