Monday, September 12, 2011

Pondering Upon Fiasco

Once I was this irritating young girl, who lived like her business was to poke nose into other people’s lives. I always wanted to know who talked about what? What was new in everybody’s life? In short, I wanted to know all about everyone. I am pretty sure people used to make fun of me behind my back, for the way I behaved; that never stopped me from trying again and again or even following the ‘cool’ girls around. What they failed to understand was that how lonesome I was; all I ever wanted was to blend in, look as smart as the toppers of the class, be as pretty as those girls in my class, appear as cool as those who came to school in their own cars showing off a shiny new gadget every other day. As much as I craved to be one of them, many a times I hesitated while speaking, hardly gave my true opinion on anything. What scared me was that if I spoke much, everybody would start laughing at me rather than listening to me; for I had a poor English, my uniform shirt was full sleeved, my hair were oiled and platted not hanging loose like theirs, and I traveled through school transport.
The days of my misery did not come to an end with the arrival of my visa for USA; from one metropolis to another I migrated, but nothing about me changed. For a year or more I was the stupidest girl on campus again: stupid enough to wear jumpsuit to school. My classmates laughed at me, mocked my name (for it was a different one) and all I could think was why did I come here. Even in my wildest dream I could have never imagined that I would find such great friends as I have found today over a period my three year stay. They vanity in my character astray as I met the right crowd to blend in; I who was a complete fiasco became this sturdy person who happens to be friends with half the school.
We were visiting Pakistan after three years; I was nothing like what I used to be. My friends upon discovering of my visit through Facebook started making all kinds of plans to meet up. Naturally, excited as I was, agreed to all the plans not having in mind the kind of person I have become. Now I am the kind of girl who’d be considered laudable in the eyes of those who rejected me back then, for I have lived abroad someplace they only dream about residing, for I speak fluent English (better than them), for I have all the fashion sense I need (that too better than them by the way). Soon came the day of our meet, I got nervous thinking what would we even

talk about? For we have nothing left in common. Things worked out better than my imagination again, I was the one doing all the talking and they were the eager listeners; they were the same pettish people I left years ago and I was a step ahead of them. In their eyes I saw prejudice for they had never imagined that a fiasco like me could ever become someone upon whom they would ponder.

NOTE: Somewhat imagination, somewhat reality based personification.

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