Delhi Diaries-Part 1/4

Walking down the hills, there was a feeling of dizziness that was never experienced in these seventeen years of my life, many unexplored destinations were calling me, each step taken forward made my heart sink a bit more as if something crucial will be left behind. For sure it was not the lofty mountains, lakes, incredible landscape, instead it was my home that was left far behind.

The piercing sound of train horns bought me back to my surroundings from my nostalgic thoughts and we all were standing at Haldwani railway station, Haldwani is a city in Kumaon region of Uttrakhand and as well as my hometown.

The train was to arrive at platform number two.

“This is a small station but Delhi is not like this, it will be crowded and huge as well”, I could sense my father’s concern.

While my mother just hugged and kissed my forehead, there were tears welling up in her eyes and she suddenly hid them in her veil.

Stepping onto the life journey carrying the load of expectations, hopes and definitely lots of food, a sobbing girl, gazing through the window in her imaginations those were still naïve to let them flow, thus was holding them as tight as purse in her lap.

It was six in the morning, still the hustle and bustle at New Delhi railway station was no lesser than a bright afternoon. Though the metropolitan cities are full of conveniences, but its Air sucks all of them. Delhi is going to be a big deal, where even token vending machine doesn’t comply as per your needs.

After spending two hours on a forty five minute way I could finally reach my college, it was a red building in South part of Delhi having equivalent trees and plants to that of a village in Kumaon. The air over here wasn’t sucking anymore. Entering through the main gate with my two bags of luggage, I heard someone shouted, “Pink top”.

The very moment of realisation figuring myself from the eyes of a girl wearing just a plain white shirt and a bright pink bra, my eyes were glued to her naked legs making myself more uncomfortable than her, as she shouted again.

“Pink top, Blue Jeans, What is your name?”

“Ashima Rauthan, first year Economics Honours.’’ Tried to change my identity for her from pink top blue jeans but it seems she doesn’t even care.

“Your room no 211 is on third floor.” she replied authoritatively.

The only wonderful thing about this room 211 full of furniture making it even hard to move around, made me met my first best friend Deeksha, who struggled every night with her 5’8” to fit into the baby bed while it felt like a blessing for a short heighted like me.

Beyond height we were two different individuals as well. A sports girl who believed those bra straps are a fashion statement and meant to flaunt whereas my artless bras were meant to be hidden from the world.

She had explored all the places to have a few drags in a smoke free campus, as well to make perfect vodka shots whereas my struggle to fit my books, eatables, and my glasses at night was still going on.

Though we shared the title of best friends, my insecurities were lying just next to her, in my body, glasses, complexion and clothes where nothing was even 3/4th for my legs while her day used to begin in shorts and ends on a short dress with a bright lipstick that was either left on the coffee mugs or on cigarettes filters.

Every Evening we used to meet a group of boys in the backyard lawns, house parties and pubs who belonged to different teams of different colleges, except the classroom there was no time to feel that we were a part of a Women College.

The only sustainable reason for me to join a college in Delhi. Hugging, pecks, spanking thighs were all a mutual game, in which I could never involve myself.

As my unconscious wasn’t allowing me to let myself go and my mother’s advice to protect myself was following me in my purse where all my imaginations were held as well.

This day Deeksha threw my purse and gave me a clutch and her short red dress as for her it is necessary to compliment your best friend on her Birthday, my bare legs and lipstick vanished my all insecurities as if they all were lying in my wardrobe. With a new clutch in hand, checking out guys from the corner and relishing my fantasies was something I could attain, it felt my longings were fulfilled.

My perceptions were making a shift, a girl who held dreams for her career, opportunities, and ambitions in her eyes were taken over by those glossy nights, push-up bras and stilettos. Dancing on the floor madly I met the worst nightmare, as my dress strap broke off unveiling my artless bra to the crowd as if the new world has rejected me and presented the ugliness of my body, the crowd showed disgust towards me and left me all alone in the middle.

I woke up from the horrified dream, everything around was as subtle as it should be finding my place intact I slept with a peaceful mind with a resolution to not let the glorious world take away my ambitions.

The next morning I returned all her stuff back and picked up the books and left for the classes in my pink top and blue jeans working back on my ambitions and goals throughout the day, on the way back to room I found our upcoming fest theme of “twining.”

I found a blue dress lying on my bed with a note, “Will you be my twining partner for this fest season? Deeksha.”

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