EVOLUTION

Most people I know are convinced. And also determined, to make me admit that I am rebellious at all times. That hostility and resistance are what primarily characterise me. I don't argue with them or try to make them see the truth about how they're completely wrong about me. Maybe I should. Somehow I don't feel the need to.

Today is one of those days I felt I should do some justice to myself and set the record straight with the world just for the sake of doing it. And, since 'for the sake of it" is the key phrase here, I chose this insignificant blogspace.

I am small. Undoubtedly, unmistakably. That's the 1st thing you would notice about me. I look like a teenager and as a teenager I looked like a child. This, I have been reminded of all through my growing years by my friends, my peers and almost anyone I interacted with. Sometimes it was because they felt affection owing to my miniature size, sometimes out of sheer surprise..like an exclamation, "Oh, you're such a tiny li'l thing". But a lot of times, reminders were just cruel jibes.

Of the many schools I have been in, the one that supposedly educated me in my 3rd grade had to be the most horrifying and significant, both at the same time. It was there that I was bullied to no end. Every moment was replete with absolute submission and humiliation by these 3 girls who were my classmates. The ring leader was a gargantuan daughter of an obscure teacher, where the latter had no dealings whatsoever with the 3rd grade. But the fact that she was a teacher was enough to instill absolute fear and demand complete allegiance to the next of kin. We shall refer to the bully queen as the G- Woman as an ode to her "gargantuan" size. And no, G-Woman wasnt just seemingly massive in relation to me. She was larger than life by any reasonable standard of measurement. She took advantage of my pixie proportions and made me do everything from picking up her left over crumbs to cleaning her muddy shoes with my hankerchief to always making me the thief in every game who everyone else chases to pound. No, it wasn't even remotely amusing then, though it is now. The slightest hint of resistance would promptly earn me a tight slap or have me go home with a completey ripped shirt. As you would have gathered, on more occassions than one, I would go back in tears, narrating my tales of woe to my mother and grandmother, whose house we were living in at that time.

At first, my tears were met with oodles of sympathy and lots of cajoling. After a few days, my mother couldn't take it any longer. She threatened me. This is what I was offered:

A. I was to sort out my fights at school itself. I was to stand up to G-Woman and fight back and take no more nonsense.

B. If I failed at option A, then I was to dry my tears before I returned home and never whine again. If I ever came back home and cried about being pickled by G-Woman and her gangstas, I would be awarded double the inflictions at home by my mother.

Wow, that had to be the most cruel thing a wee girl could possibly hear from her own mother. At that time it crushed me. But in due course, it achieved what my mother had intended. It changed my life. No, I didn't turn into spiderkid or one of the power puff girls the next day who went back and wham bammed G-Woman and the Monsters. I was still tiny and still very vulnerable. I continued gettin bullied and and would wipe my tears before getting back home. But in a while, I taught myself to be smarter and elusive and stay out of G-Woman's sight till I reached a point where I could just refuse to listen to her. Ha! No, I didnt reach a point where I could actually give her a flat big NO. We got posted out and changed schools again before that dramatic, historical moment could grace the 3rd grade. When I reached my new school, I had changed. I was always on my guard. I bullied the bullies before they could bully me. And I soon learnt and saw the wonderful truth that size had nothing to do with power or intimidation. With the passing years, I went from active aggressive to being Robin Hood of the bullied, downtrodden lot. Do you get the picture? I was the crusader who would protect and stand up for the losers in school. The evolution kept getting more and more pronounced till one fine day at 15 I stopped and said, No More. I was tired. But more than that, I didn't need all that anymore. It really was one fine day. Just like that. I was sure that I was secure and fully functional and deep inside I wasnt too fond of company. Maybe that's what got me into trouble in the 1st place. My size and the fact that I was aloof is what increased my vulnerability as that 3rd grader. I realised it after 8 years. But now, I was fine. I had arrived and I was happy and at peace. I went back to my pre 3rd grade self. Loving my own company and restricting my sociability to being an aqcuaintance to most people.

I had evolved into being what I was always meant to be. A recluse. No, I'm not a rebel and neither am I hostile. I just love to be on my own. I don't want the limelight. The so called crusader or rebellious monster in me awakens only when the world tries to tinker with me and tries to tell me what I ought to be doing. I have no complaints if I'm a mere shadow, a silhouette in my immediate universe. All I have ever wanted is to be just left alone. And I have had to change myself completely in those 8 years to just achieve that. Its such a paradox. To be alone, I've had to take on the world. Those small, local worlds which are, to us, the whole of this planet. I have come a long way since then.

Most of you must be quite disappointed at the seeming incoherence of this tale. Perhaps it is. Incoherent, frivolous and just plain bland.

But to me, its my evolution and my identity.

Just to let you know, conditions DO apply here to me being a recluse. Whenever fingered or disturbed, the Loch Ness Monster will most certainly emerge.

This was suppossed to be an entire chapter in my imaginary book which, I would like to believe, will be a reality some day. Damn, I shouldn't have written this blog.