S H E : Almost Oxygen.

After a sleepless night of extreme sadness and envy of some sort, the next morning, my text read- “ Girl, I’m sad. I wish I could meet you up. But your exams.”

It didn’t take her a minute to reply back- “Screw exams. Coming up, bitch.”

That’s, well, proudly HER.

The girl I shared my school seat with, my Tiffin- break laughs with, my exam answers, my sadness, my audacity, my madness, long walks, and all the sins.

And then one day she fell in love, with my brother.

“Bitch, I’m in love. Mind making me your sister-in-law for future?”

I couldn’t come up with anything except “I love you, my future sister-in-law.”

Obviously, the story didn’t go like the happy endings they show in movies. But extreme tragedy. The after effects are something like our families gave away with the tight relation they had.

Result- No meeting each other for the next two years. Class 11 and 12, all we did was, text each other up, saying,

“Have you turned fat? 

“Send me a picture.”

“Come online, ass.”

“When can I see you up? :’( ”

“Give me a call when your parents are not around.”

And sadness followed consolations like,

 “Bitch, Karma’s gonna be good to us. Chill. ”

“THIS TOO SHALL PASS.”

Aah, YES!

Now when we sit through the summer heat somewhere, all we do is consider us lucky, proudly. And yes, we are mad. We touch wood at almost every good thing we say about us.

Two best friends can never stay sane, when they are together.

HAhahahha!!

But she is some extreme level of craziness, and so are her friends.

When I couldn’t make a friend for myself in college, what she did was, she made me meet up her equally mad friends.

‘My friends, your friends.’ She said, smiling.

I am not writing this because I want to pamper her or something. Obviously, the first thing, she’s going to say, when she sees this will be, ‘Bitch, I love you.’

I am writing this, because I love writing, and I love her, so basically writing about her gives a high, and loads of peace, right now!

(Ignore the gibberish logic, if you don’t understand the emotion and love hidden in it.)

STATUTORY  WARNING :

People who believe ‘Girls can never be best friends’,

 PLEASE STAY OUT.

I have a very small list of people in the world who have my acclamation of owning me.

She almost tops the list.


* Touch wood*, Dear Bitch.

Election. The backstage drama!

11 May, 9.50pm.

I was taking a stroll around, with my dog.

Suddenly my phone blinked.

‘One new Whatsapp message.’

There is this group we have there, ‘Jobless a**h*les’ (asterisks to make it look less offensive).

Vicky- man, one of my maternal uncles is hospitalised. These people have hit him up real bad. I am super tensed.

Hem- sh*t. The same party people have threatened my dad as well, and then when we turned up to vote, they hit me up, too. You already know.

Arpita- these guys are despo to win the election already. There is this clash going on near my house as well.

Weird! They give us the right to vote and then take us through this hell-isque path of where They Want Us To Vote.

These above mentioned people are like me, of my age.

First Voters. And they already know what dirt it is in politics.

Vicky’s uncle, Hem’s dad was bitten up.

Reason- they don’t support the party that is recently taking pride in being on the newspapers for beating people up, hospitalising some, and killing many.

And then today, 12^th may, I DID vote. I mean, after these three months of going through the trouble of visiting the District Magistrate office with my voter card that spells my name TOTALLY wrong and then being returned saying ‘come after the elections get over’, I did vote.

Weird! And they talk big of taking care of the gen-Y people.

LOL! They can’t even spell our name correctly, let alone rectify that, pre-election.

Right now, I sit here with this blue mark on my finger that calls me a ‘Responsible citizen’. I would take much pride in calling myself, not one. Obviously the one I voted for, if that party wins, will surely change to the stereotype politician. I mean that’s what the pessimistic and the realistic me predicts and states.

And they say, ‘We create our government.’

Ignorant people!

 *   *   *   *   *

Totally out of the topic, but I would like to share.

Months back I visited this seminar. There, a prominent lady told me, "Tapatrisha, you should join politics. India needs young people to bring in change."

I still remember my answer," Ma’am, my family would never want me to join politics. To them, politics means ONLY throwing chairs and tables and often pepper spray at each other, in the parliament."

She just smiled, and left.