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A short story with an unexpected ending, 'The Other Girl' is a tale about love, jealousy and confrontation.
I knew it the first time our eyes met. It was love at first sight, for you as well as for me!
You were the first man I fell in love with, but to you I was not the first; it did not matter, for you might have pronounced deepest affection for a million women before you met me but the feelings you had for them are nothing as compared to what you have for me! I knew this from the start, maybe it’s this knowledge that made me arrogant, I do not know. It nevertheless felt good to have you smitten over me. And I was extremely possessive too, if you remember I wouldn’t allow anybody to interrupt us when we were spending time together. I considered the moments with you in the initial days to be the most precious moments ever.
I still remember how when others tried to warn you about me, when they said I will only spell trouble for you, when they even tried to counsel you to not be so deeply affectionate toward me, you dismissed them all off with a graceful wave of your hand. All their “advice” fell on deaf ears; our relationship, you told them, was way too special for laymen to make sense of. Your love for me never diminished, it just went on to increase exponentially day after day. I was your queen, you remarked at multiple occasions and when I was around, others took a back seat, quiet literally!
Everything was going well until she came into your life! I had always dreaded that moment since the day I heard about her, but I did not expect the situation to go this awry. I noticed how your face glowed with happiness whenever you were with her. You were delirious with joy and all of a sudden I blurred into the background, which was when I told you “she might have managed to make you fall in love all over again, but she ain’t as special to you as I once was!”
She is “just another,” I told myself, as an attempt to console myself! I never once wanted to share you with anyone but when she came into picture I had no other choice, except to silently watch you being taken away from me. I was not your queen anymore as she snatched away my crown in no time!
She is “just another,” I told myself, as an attempt to console myself! I never once wanted to share you with anyone but when she came into picture I had no other choice.
That day I wanted to run away from you, make you feel the pain of missing me, but I could not, my love for you stopped me from doing that! I came to you when you were with her, “Come meet her, you will like her”, you said, but instead of coming closer I stood at a distance and asked you “Do you think she is more beautiful than me”? I obviously saw her as my competition and you laughing at me did not help my bruised ego. I ran away from that place with tears streaming down my cheeks. You called out multiple times, yet I ran without looking back, angering you for the first time in my life.
How could she do this to me, I wondered aghast! I have never hated anyone as much as I hated her at that moment. I was so angry that I was flinging things all over the place and when finally my anger subsided and the tears stopped its endless flow, I returned. It was late in the night by then, I sneaked out to meet her and to my surprise she was wide awake. Braving myself, I edged closer to her, little by little, until she noticed me. She flashed that brilliant smile at me but I was not moved. I was watching her with cold eyes, which was when she stroked my cheek and laughed gleefully as though in mockery! I stood there shell shocked, not knowing what to do and suddenly I realized you were standing by the door, watching us. Not sure how long you were there, but it looked like you were not angry with me anymore. I looked at you, then at her; she was still smiling at me and so were you. At that moment, my heart wrenched in deepest regret that I have ever felt – the regret for wasting the last 5 months in bitterness, in hatred and in not getting to know her. When she finally let go of my cheek I caressed her soft hair and she beamed wider at my touch. It was then I came to the realization that she is indeed more beautiful than me – my little sister!
Dad was wrong. I don’t like her. No!
I love her!
Image via Shutterstock.
I am fascinated by the quote "Known is a drop, unknown is an ocean". Having said that, I am a budding writer, artist, runner and speaker who is trying to explore new drops in the read more...
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Neena was the sole caregiver of Amma and though one would think that Amma was dependent on her, Neena felt otherwise.
Neena inhaled the aroma that emanated from the pan and took a deep breath. The aroma of cumin interspersed with butter transported her back to the modest kitchen in her native village. She could picture her father standing in the kitchen wearing his white crisp kurta as he made delectable concoctions for his only daughter.
Neena grew up in a home where both her parents worked together in tandem to keep the house up and running. She had a blissful childhood in her modest two-room house. The house was small but every nook and cranny gave her memories of a lifetime. Neena’s young heart imagined that her life would follow the same cheerful course. But how wrong she was!
When she was sixteen, the catastrophic clutches of destiny snatched away her parents. They passed away in a road accident and Neena was devastated. Relatives thronged her now gloomy house and soon it was decided that she should be married off.
Being a writer, Nivedita Louis recognises the struggles of a first-time woman writer and helps many articulate their voice with development, content edits as a publisher.
“I usually write during night”, says author Nivedita Louis during our conversation. Chuckling she continues,” It’s easier then to focus solely on writing. Nivedita Louis is a writer, with varied interests and one of the founders of Her Stories, a feminist publishing house, based in Chennai.
In a candid conversation she shared her journey from small-town Tamil Nadu to becoming a history buff, an award-winning author and now a publisher.
Nivedita was born and raised in a small town in Tamil Nadu. It was for schooling that she first arrived in Chennai. Then known as Madras, she recalls being awed by the city. Her love-story with the city, its people and thus began which continues till date. She credits her perseverance and passion to make a difference to her days as a vocational student among the elite sections of Madras.
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