There are tales that only matter to
me full of those minimal and insignificant anecdotes. But, for some weird
reason I had wanting to jot them down in my own little ways as a testimony to
that moment, that day and the emotion I felt.
It’s a weird trait. But, for those of them that matter, I end up
reserving my thoughts in the ‘Notes’ of my office laptop so that I don’t forget
and share it on their birthdays as messages and posts. For some reason, as much
as I would be delighted to have someday achieved all those milestones and
dreams I imagine, I am a woman of little things. It includes creating those
white sheet cards like an eight year old even in the beginning of my 20s.
This year, these funny-looking birthday cards became my thing.
It all began with that monochrome attempt at a minion trio that seemed to bring
about the true vibe of our little girl gang. I couldn’t realise it then but
that day it had my hard work but not my heart. It was not an attempt to make
her smile with my best but partly acting in a rush on a thought that came mechanically
as over the years I had learnt she liked hand-made things better. However, I
weirdly felt jealous and hurt as I saw that other people had taken over the
place I had held an year back and I failed to get the response I was always so
used to.
However, as the time went by, I
realised, I was just being extremely childish and the fact was it was nice but
not my best. All those previous years, I had been worse but my then best. It
encouraged me to take my chances and colour my monochrome and further pour my heart into the piece of paper I would eventually be giving to her. I didn’t want her to know how I had felt so I
just sneaked into her room to place it within her reach, only to see once I was
gone. Thankfully, much to my relief she was glad to receive. The very next day as she posted ‘Love was felt’ it was felt equally on the
other side of the WhatsApp status too.
In the upcoming months, I would go
back to a minion in a batman suit to convey my appreciation and fondness for my
mentor cum best friend at my place of work. Moreover, as I found myself alone
without my bestie preparing the card, when her own birthday knocked, my roomies would laugh at the heart and all the love that the card hold, mistaking it for
my college crush they had recently gotten to know. However, I ended up sleeping
over as she eagerly waited for our midnight calls. But, the same card managed to bring her a little smile and would help me
apologise and make up for the missed call. I was immensely delighted to know
she liked it and we both looked forward for the day I could personally pass it
on.
However, much to the dismay of most
came the coronavirus and also the birthday of our fav. person from the
department currently in his final sem.
Vicky and I would discuss for hours what could we do
to bring a smile on his face as we were all stuck in our homes. We would settle
for collages, long messages and WhatsApp statuses from him. While I would
happily settle for the front page of a simplistic card and a long reserved
message wishing him the best for his dreams. While I don’t really like the fact
I have to keep it since I can’t hand it over, I find solace in the fact it at least served its purpose well.
Yet, in another instance, a not so
perfect sketch of Buddha came back my way. One I hadn’t really made out of love
and pure affection but yet with unquestionable efforts and much dedication in
my attempt to be nicer and offer support for old times’ sake. I had drawn it
with the help of a common friend who happens to be far better at art than I’ll
probably ever be.
However, as we fought (a fight I admit I had single-handedly picked
out of my growing frustration over the months) she returned the sketch as I turned
cold and refused to talk. I went back to the same friend whose help I had
seeked in drawing the same. She went on to correctly point out I was no less
(if not more) in my approach as I had turned cold. I took it back, and
savouring my ego placed it with other pages on my own cupboard.
Over the weeks,
we would reconcile but I always knew despite it all something inside me had
already broke. The pampered child of her family and little girl gang failed to
take well the fact she could be deserted and somebody else could be prioritised
over by her new group she had almost began treating like her own. In hindsight,
none of them were wrong yet the hurt I felt stayed for long killing the very
thing I had, in my naivety, attempted to protect. Though I try my best not to
hold any grudges but I also learnt several important lessons in the days to
come. One being “be careful with the gifts you make with your very own hands.”
PS - Even as I write it all down, I
known its silly yet I hope to someday find an old soul who would for some weird
reason be interested in all my nonsense including stories like these. Even if
it never comes to that, someday I will probably open my tabs to go again through these
pieces to smile, and laugh while unintentionally looking at all the words and
sentences that could have changed.
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