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"I still don’t know what led us to grow apart." Some relationships end inexplicably. If you have one of those stories, you'll so relate to this one!
“I still don’t know what led us to grow apart.” Some relationships end inexplicably. If you have one of those stories, you’ll so relate to this one!
Dear V,
I know this letter may seem strange considering we haven’t spoken to each other in two years. I have been meaning to write to you for a long time, but I was never able to translate the weight of my feelings into words.
Last week, I was passing by Langford town and it reminded me of the time we rented that five-hundred-square-feet crooked house beside the Cyprus tree. That neighborhood hasn’t changed much after we left. Do you remember how every once in a while I’d panic about the house collapsing? You’d drag me outside to an elevated patch of barren land from where we could see the entire street. You’d explain that the house was on a slanting street and that was why it looked crooked. And when I’d nod unconvinced, you’d tickle me till I shrieked.
That house sure was small, wasn’t it? We’d spend all our time together sleeping late till Sunday mornings and rainy afternoons, flipping omelets in that rectangular blue-walled kitchen, watching the neighborhood stray dogs run havoc at twilight and reading Rimbaud and Rumi to each other until dark skies were swallowed by the sun.
I remember us being immensely happy although at the time, we didn’t know it. We assumed what we were experiencing was something we’d feel for the rest of our lives, without having to try. Sometimes, the two of us from that time seem like faint memories of someone we once knew, but lost touch with. I still don’t know what led us to grow apart. Maybe, it was because we met at a time when we weren’t geared for a lifetime of togetherness.
Omi told me you’ve met someone wonderful and that you both live in a house tucked in the hills bordering Bakloh. Very animatedly, she also went on to tell me that your fiancé has eyes that sparkle every time she sees you and a smile that can make a cloudy day blow away. She of course seemed regretful after blurting this out and grasping my hands, apologized profusely for being insensitive. You know how she is—she doesn’t mean harm.
I know that by the time this letter reaches you, it’ll be the end of summer and you’ll be married. Lately, I often find my mind wandering around thoughts of you and her. But I don’t want to think about your new life in the hills of Bakloh. I’d rather think of you at the terrace of our crooked house with the wind in our face, my head leaning against your shoulder, us staring into open skies with Springsteen’s voice in our ears.
(Once) yours, P
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UP Boards Topper Prachi Nigam was trolled on social media for her facial hair; our obsession with appearance is harsh on young minds.
Prachi Nigam’s photo has been doing the rounds on social media for the right reasons. Well, scratch that- I wish the above statement were true. This 15-year-old girl should ideally be revelling in her spectacular achievement of scoring a whopping 98.05% and topping her tenth-grade boards. But oddly enough, along with her marks, it’s something else that garners more attention – her facial hair.
While the trolls are driving themselves giddy by mocking this girl who hasn’t even completed her school yet, the ones who are taking her side are going one step ahead – they are sharing her photoshopped pictures, sans the facial hair, looking nothing less than a celebrity with captions saying – “Prachi Nigam, ten years later”.
Doctors have already diagnosed her with PCOD in their comments, based on photographic evidence. While we have names for people shamed for their weight – body shaming, for their skin colour- racism, for their age- age shaming, for being a female- sexism, this category of shaming where one faces criticism for their appearance has no name. With that, it also has zero shame attached to it.
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