Where It All Began
Do you remember that day?
The day you finally met them,
and for the first time,
you felt like maybe everything was going to be okay.
You were walking happily beside them,
holding their hand,
your tiny fingers tightly wrapped around a five-rupee coin —
as if you were holding a small piece of happiness.
When they introduced you to their friends,
your heart filled with quiet hope.
You really believed that now
no one would leave you alone anymore.
You thought,
“Maybe this is it.
Maybe now everyone will be my friend.”
For a moment,
you felt included.
Chosen.
Like you finally belonged somewhere.You were so little.
Just a child in LKG.
It was the first time you were seeing a world outside home.
The classroom looked small, almost overwhelming to your tiny eyes.
You were wearing that uniform —
the same one you had argued with your mother about.
You didn’t think you looked pretty in it.
You had even fought with her, insisting you didn’t want to wear it.
But in the end, she convinced you.
She always did.
Your hair was long — longer than most girls your age.
Your teachers used to braid it neatly,
making two tight plaits that rested on your shoulders.
You were scared.
Quiet.
A little lost.
You didn’t talk to anyone.
You just watched.
Observed.
Tried to understand this new world.
And then, during the morning prayer,
the teacher scolded you
for wearing coloured ribbons instead of the proper ones.
You loved little beautiful things even back then.
You always had a taste for colours,
for details,
for standing out — even if it was just through a ribbon.
But that morning,
you lowered your eyes.
And something inside you became a little quieter.
