THE STRANGE GIRL!

                                                                                                   Unsplash

I was aware of people staring at me, sometimes sniggering behind my back. As I walked on, my head down, tears lodged at the back of my eyes as the whispers continued like the buzzing of bees. I was not surprised… I would have been surprised if they had not laughed at me. I knew the reason why. The mirror told me the unflattering truth every single day.

From very early in life, I knew I was different. I had big eyes, silky hair, a pert nose and rosebud lips. However, my features sat crudely on my flat face. My eyes stayed blank because I could not comprehend much of what others conveyed to me.

Did my parents rue the day I was born? Not really, because I was a beautiful bouncing baby! Passers by would pause and coo over my ringlets. My adorable toothless smile! 

                                                                                                    Vecteezy

My parents would look on with pride, glancing at each other through the corner of their eyes.

Back home, my mother would draw a big black spot behind my ear.

“Let me ward away all the evil, evil eyes!” she would chuckle, giving me a sloppy kiss which I would instantly wipe away when I was older.

The black dots stopped when the compliments did. By the time I was around six, my features had spread themselves out over my face unbecomingly. No longer did people stop to cluck over me. I saw the trepidation, and sometimes even the revulsion on their faces when they gazed on me, only I did not know these terms then. I would run to familiar faces to hug them with all the affection I was capable of, and there was a wellspring of emotions that ran so deep within my heart that no one could see them. Probably because my eyes did not convey the same emotions. They remained beautiful, but blank, making people uncomfortable. They would turn their gazes away, pretending to be busy on their phones so that they would not have to talk to me.

The older I grew, the more difficult it became to socialise with others. I turned into a surly teenager who sat at the window, watching other girls act coy and flaunt their looks. They would toss their hair and smile at their admirers. Occasionally, one of them would glance up at me, ensconced by the window, and with a subtle gesture, make the others aware of my looming presence. There would be titters and giggles, and as suddenly they would lose interest and go back to what they were doing earlier.

My parents gave up on me early in life. My sister, who was born three years after me, was the apple of their eye. I remained the stye, the one whose presence rankled in their hearts. Diya, my sister, was aptly named. She sparkled from the moment she was born, and she was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. I loved her, and when she was a baby, I would grab her and hug her till she was breathless. My mother would always keep a watchful eye on us. I am sure she was worried that my love would suffocate the little one.

Even when Diya’s friends came over, I would sit in a corner of the room and watch them play. Often, they would look at me, and whisper, “Diya, how did you get a sister like Maya? She looks like a storm cloud.”

Yes, I was Maya, named after my mother’s favourite poet, Maya Angelou, with a hope that I would also be a wizard with words. Unfortunately, my vocabulary was limited and would always remain so. As limited as my friend circle!

It was then that Marie came into my life. She was a new girl in our colony, and she was as radiant as the sun. Her eyes twinkled as she spoke, and her long curly hair moved as if it had a life of its own. Diya brought her home one day after school. My parents loved her. Words tumbled out of her mouth without cessation, and I watched her, rapt. How could someone talk so effortlessly, and so much. I sat in my corner, listening to the music in her voice. Suddenly, the voice fell silent, and I sensed her gaze on me. She smiled at me and asked me from across the room, “What’s your name?”

“Oh, that’s my sister, Maya!” Diya answered. Marie rose and came towards me.

“Why are you sitting in that corner?”

She held her hand out to me, and I shrank away from her, uncomfortable at the thought of someone actually talking to me. By then I had lost the willingness to converse with anyone.

Marie came nearer and looked closely at my face.

“You have beautiful eyes, Maya!”

There was a sudden singing in my soul. No one had ever said anything so personal to me. I took her outstretched hand and smiled warily  at her. My muscles felt taut. I had got out of the habit of smiling as well.

My parents watched in silence. Diya called out to Marie.

“Hey, shall we go out and play? I want to introduce you to all my friends.”

Marie held on to my hand, as she nodded. As she moved towards Diya, she gave my hand a gentle tug.

“Come on, Maya. Let’s go out and meet your friends.”

“I have no friends!” My voice sounded raspy.

Diya added her pennyworth.

“That’s true. Maya has no friends. Everyone thinks she is strange.”

Marie shook her head, and her hair swung over her face, partially covering it.

“Now she has a friend. Me!” she said solemnly. “She will make more friends as well.”
I drew away from her in alarm. I was not used to anyone holding my hand or even talking to me.

“No one wants to be friends with me,” I said to Marie, who flashed her beautiful smile at me.

“I want to be your friend. Come with me.”

She glanced at Diya and my parents who were all looking shocked.

“You must be wondering why I am behaving like this, aren’t you?” They nodded in silence.

“I have an older brother who is twenty years old. However, his mental age is about eight. All my life, I have had to be his older sibling even though he is six years older than me. I love him very much because he has a heart filled with love and innocence.” She paused, and then she went on, “When I saw Maya sitting in that corner, it reminded me of my brother. He is wary of people because they react in different ways to him. All Maya needs is to be treated like a human being. She is not asking for anything more, I am sure.”

Marie’s voice sounded even more like music to my parched heart. I did not understand her emotion, but I saw the warmth in her eyes. My parents had tears in their eyes, but I did not know why. Diya took my other hand and for the first time, I saw a flash of understanding in her eyes as well.

The sun was shining down from a cloudless blue sky as I walked along with Marie and Diya towards where Diya’s friends stood, waiting. For the first time ever, I felt unafraid as I walked. My head was high, and my heart was easy. As the bright sun shone down on us, the cloudless blue sky seemed to nestle within my heart as well.

  This post is a part of 'Currents of Kindness Blog Hop' hosted by Manali Desai and Sukaina Majeed under #EveryConversationMatters.