When he said “You’re weird…

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Trajectory

Seven years change a lot. For starters I’m not fourteen anymore.

‘Sweet fourteen’!!

(Oh yes it has changed …sixteen has passed down her crown)

And I do not have the privilege to throw those ‘no-one-understands-me’ tantrums anymore. They have known me for long enough to have understood my behavior pattern and are convinced that I would not commit suicide at a metro-station the morning after a brawl because I wouldn’t waste the remaining 27 rides.

I’m no longer aspiring to become the Head Girl, trying to pull my act together. I’m on the other side of it. I know it’s still a patriarchal society where the Head Boy carries the School flag, and the insignificant counterpart balances the banner, antagonizing a headstrong wind at Rabindra Sarobar Stadium. (Add to that he also gets to decide the menu on significant occasions. Not that I care about the food anyway)

I no longer believe men can be won or lost. They can only be understood or misunderstood. They can only be tormented in physical proximity or be preserved in silence.

I no longer fret over the general idea of humanities pursuant’s being considered as being equivalent to dumb blondes. It’s no myth. (I know I’m being poor man’s Chetan Bhagat with this attempt at kindling controversy. Consolation being only I read my blog and a few others because Facebook keeps promoting all sorts of shit in the name of Live feeds)

I know too well results mean nothing.

Review results are all that counts.

I know marks cannot earn you a spot at a desired university, for some of us we literally need to earn to get there before hypermetropia loses out to presbyopia .

It feels good to be a topper but its "no great matter/I’ve seen the moment of my greatness flicker".

And all in these seven years.

A toast to you Seven Years for being such a wonderful friend.

…to be continued

P.S- I've quoted people, poets and songs..and if you want to know who all...go google or go figure!

(N.B- while writing this post Microsoft Word has been bugging me too often with “Fragment. Consider revising”. Don’t know if this is a joke or a tragedy but seems like I’m misunderstood by humans and androids {strictly, my office assistant, an Einstein of two centimeters} alike)