25TH August 2005
Dear stranger,
I don't know who you are but I am writing to you because I need to know somewhere out there, someone is listening to me. Someone cares enough to read my letters. Regardless to whether someone does receive this or not, I'll be glad to get rid of my burdens. I'm writing to a stranger because sometimes an unknown person just understands you better. They don't judge and if they do, it won't hurt as much. I'm not the best at penning down my feelings but I need to, I want to relieve my grievance.
There is no return address, I wish to be anonymous. I don't want you to find me or try to look for me. I hope you respect my decision, not often do I get to make them. My brother once told me that girls aren't allowed to think for themselves, I questioned him why but he dismissed me. I was a young girl then, I remember that day vividly as if it was yesterday. It was 9 years ago, on my 6th birthday. I was wearing a pink dress; I memorize not wanting to wear it. I threw a tantrum, I wailed till my eyes dried out and my throat hurt. But my mom had consoled me. She had told me it would be okay. She lied.
"Well I don't care what you want. You're just a girl, and not to forget a little one. I am in charge here not you." He was towering over her with his intimidating presence.
She timidly sat on the edge of her bed fiddling with the edge of her dress. It was her big day- her birthday. Her family, which only consisted of her brother, mom and aunt, had thrown her a grand party. It was their little girl's birthday, how could they not? She was the pride of the family. She was a show piece, a beautiful trophy. Finley polished and gleaming brightly. The winner of all 'Little miss' pageants in the state. And last month she was pronounced Little Miss.America. She has won one of the most prestigious titles in the pageant world.
"But..."
"No buts. I pay thousands of dollars to enter you in these contests. I pay thousands of dollars to groom you. And you don't appreciate anything at all. I spent over $5000 to throw you this party. Not mention elite modelling agencies are coming over here! This is an opportunity for you to shine so you dare ruin this for us. Didn't you like winning the contest last month? As far as I remember you were ecstatic."
"I did enjoy winning...and everyone giving me attention"
"Well that's it then! I'm sending Ms.Cielo to get you ready. No more questions"
She just lowered her gaze and muttered an inaudible 'hmm'
***
After 10 minutes, the chubby Ms.Cielo arrived. The young Geet was very fond of her because she smelt of cookies, chocolate and love. Misses C as Geet fondly called her, was a rosy old lady in her mid 50's. A retired beautician- the best of the best. She was assigned to make Geet fit for the thrown, and boy did she know her job well! With no children of her own, she devoted herself looking after Geet ever since she was a little baby. She pampered her and treated her as her own. Everyday she would tuck her into bed and sing foreign lullabies that Geet could not understand yet loved whole heartedly.
Geet ran to her Misses C and hugged her waist tightly. She hid her face in her bosom and wailed incessantly. "Brijj brother doesn't care about me, he doesn't care for what I want" she complained. "It's okay carino*, I'm here now. Your Mami* is here now" She kissed her head and smoothed Geet's unruly curls. Ms.Cielo didn't want to give Geet any false hopes, she didn't want to crush the girls fragile heart.
After 20 minutes she was ready to head to the party. She was dressed in that pink dress, it irritated her skin, yet she had no alternative; She had to do what she was asked. It was all a facade- the make-up, the wig, the clothes. A concealment of her true self from the world. Because in this world, all that mattered was perfection. And there was no place for flaws.
She walked over to the window by her bed. Her stubby legs climbed upon the cot and she crawled to the window. The clouds had obscured the full moon, leaving the world in the shadows of the night. She placed her chubby hands on the cool window pane, squinting to see if she could spot a star. Ms.Ceilo once told her that if she spotted the brightest sky, her mother was looking over her. But the star was nowhere to be seen. The sky was a dark abyss, void of any sources of illumination.
"What are you looking for baby girl?" She heard a feminine, placid voice call out to her. She turned to see a slender woman with long voluptuous hair, and captivating ice blue eyes the compelled her to stare into them. Her skin was pale, paler than she had ever seen. As pale as a single white rose on a black canvas. The woman had a small gentle smile forming on her lips. The dark bags under her eyes and the wrinkles forming around her mouth made the woman look much older than she was. The woman lifted her right hand and reached out to caress her face. Her fingers were long and her touch lingered on her skin sending electrical vibes down the little girls body. Geet closed her eyes in content. "Were you searching for me?" The young girl nodded. "I'm right here baby girl, right next to you" Geet opened her eyes and she jumped into the woman's warm embrace. Finally the girl felt safe, content. She let out tears of both joy and sorrow. "It'll be okay baby girl, one day I'll return and we'll be together and happy again." The woman stroked the girl's hair and kissed the top of her head.
A knock on the door interrupted the moment of complete solitude and bliss. "Aye aye aye! Cario you have spoilt your make-up"
Sorry, I forgot to tell you my name. I've decided to conceal my real name. It's not that I don't trust you, I promise I do. I guess it's just paranoia. I don't know why I don't want to tell you, thousands of people across the globe have the same name as I and the chance of you finding me is exceptional. Maybe because ones name is connected to their personality or how they behave. I don't want you to know me, because I don't want you to judge. Not many people like me very much, but I really want you to like me. I really do.
Ushas. Meaning Dawn in Sanskrit, a Vedic deity. You must be wondering why I chose her. The dawn is the first ray of light that illuminates the dark night sky. The first ray that wakes the world from a deep slumber. The first ray of hope after a dark consuming night. I have always enjoyed watching the sun rise, one of the glorious gifts of nature. The warm hue of the sky is a pleasant sight that makes my insides tingle and leaves a fuzzy feeling. I guess it also gives me some hope and will power to continue, and to live one more day. And my optimism is the only thing that gets me through the day.
I'm not a fan of history though, the subject confuses me. How do we know what we are studying is true? We weren't there to see it. The subject is based on assumptions supported by artefacts. People say never to believe unless you see it with your own eye. What's in the past should stay there, it doesn't concern us. We are always told to never look back so why do we? My friend Maan tells me it's so we know how the world has developed, we get a notion of culture and it's good to know the foundation of this present world. In some ways we he isn't completely incorrect. Maan never is.
He is the cleverest person I know, nobody can ever point out his mistakes. He's flawless. I don't know why he likes me; he says it's because I'm naive and innocent. I don't like it when he calls me naive, I don't want to be. I want to be like the other girls that Maan pays attention to, in the other way. Naive is just a euphemism for dumb, or inexperienced.
In sociology our teacher told us to not take in regard what others feel about us, what's important is how we feel about ourselves. But how does one completely turn a blind eye to society's outlook and perspective about oneself? I feel Maan only puts up with me because we knew each other since we were little babies. And our mommies were friends. Maan was the one who would change my nappies, and he would play with me everyday. I don't remember though, my mom was the one who told me and Maan also confirmed. I can't ever imagine Maan changing me, it makes my face go red and my body sweat. Maan chuckles about it, he says it doesn't matter as I was only a child. However that does not make me cringe any less. I remember he would read to me though, everyday. Although he was also an amateur reader so he would make up the words along the way.
Reading has always been my favourite past time. It's the only way I can escape into a world of pure fiction and fantasy. A world where nobody can harm you, and were good always triumphs. I love to expand my knowledge. Knowledge has always been God's greatest gift, that's what Maan says. But I don't understand how knowledge can be a gift and that too sent by God.
You can't wrap it or even hand it over to a person for that matter. So how would God gift it to us? I've never really understood the whole concept of God. How can something know all and see all? Not even Maan can do that. Whenever I question Maan he just laughs at me and tells me I'm so naive.
I have to go now; my Aunt is calling me down for dinner. But before I leave I have one last question;
Will you be my friend?
Love from,
Ushas, Your friend.
Gloassary:
Mami- a term used for mother or mom in Spanish
Carino- a term of endearment e.g Dear, Honey, Darling in Spanish
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