The itch to write

26, January 2001 [Republic Day]  Place: Baroda, Gujarat                                  As usual I was struggling to write an essay in Gujarati. I despised attending tuition classes on holidays but I was left with no choice. My low marks in gujarati brought me here every morning at 8. This day was no different than the other days till…. … ......……..Till I felt someone pushing my chair back and forth. I instantly turned around.  No one was there.                                                I calmed my thoughts and told myself that I must have imagined that. But the look on my teacher’s face who was sitting opposite to me made me realise that it was no imagination. I saw her looking behind her chair with uncertainty. Before I could tell her what I felt, we heard a loud thump from the kitchen. We both hurried off to the kitchen to find the kitchen shelves shaking heavily and vessels flying down one by one. We looked around the house with an insecure min

                                         It was another day at middle school. I still had not made any friends. Well , the truth is I really tried but no one  wanted to be my friend. It was lunch time and I was looking for a place to sit in the cafeteria. This is one thing I dread the most. Everyone had a group of friends of their own. The popular group sat in the corner. They were the cheerleaders, basketball players, kids with good looks (most of them wore makeup so cannot really tell if they were really good looking) and then there were the rich kids who only wore only branded clothes , shoes.  I certainly did not belong there because I didn’t have the skinny body type which those cheerleaders had. Forget sports. I cannot even do ten push-ups straight. I wore clothes which I got on sale from JCpenny and not Armani, Gucci or Nike. When it came to looks neither did i  wear fake lashes nor did I have hair extensions.  I did not have a tongue piercing, ta