The Diary of a Usually Unusual Teenager

19. Got you into ballet classes? You have flat feet!

 Have been bashing my head in trying to study Psychology (never thought that day'd come). Also having to attend college for only my pass classes. By the way, who's excited about 'The Beauty and The Beast'? I'm listening to the song as I'm writing this and boy, am I super excited!

Anyway, here's a new chapter! Happy reading, folks!

                                                             Rupanjali

                                       19.  Got you into ballet classes? You have flat feet!

Thursday,

October 10,

11:31 pm.

                     Today is Shashthi (more like was since today's pretty much ended). Which is supposedly the sixth day in the fortnight-long event that is Durga Puja.

Went to my aunt's place as we customarily do on Shashthi.

 Here's the thing - every year the people (the proper term would be, erm, residents, I suppose) living, in the housing complex that my aunt lives, in organise a variety program on Shashthi and my cousin participates every year and that's reason enough for Granddad to go scooting to their place on Shashthi and of course, if Granddad goes, we have to as well. 

Who on earth would let an eighty-year-old person travel unaccompanied from the extreme north to the extreme south of a city? Not us, that's for sure. 

This year my cousin was going to be dancing to Bollywood songs (unlike all the previous years when she danced to Bengali songs or rhymes) and had to borrow my blouse as her costume if you can call it that. I wasn't exactly too keen about this lending my blouse thing because -

a) It's my blouse, first of all.

b) Couldn't she just buy one? I mean, they're pretty better off than we are (evidence: they own three flats, a car and go for holidays twice or thrice a year) so, is it really so hard for them to buy a bloody blouse, for Pete's sake? (Also, who is Pete, honestly and why are we always doing things for sake?)

c) I'm sure some alterations or the other will be made to said blouse which will effectively make it ghastly, I'm sure.

d) She kind of borrowed my copy of The Deathly Hallows permanently so, blame me for being a bit apprehensive with regard to her borrowing my blouse and it suffering the same fate.

When I told Mum I didn't want to give my blouse away (even if it was temporarily) and supported my statement with the aid of the aforementioned reasons, she laughed at me and then, got really cross with me because it was just a blouse which ironically enough, I hated like crazy when my uncle chose it in Shopper's Stop almost four years ago and now, for some odd reason, refuse to part with it. She ended her speech (I'm sure if you ask my mother whether she and I get into arguments or disagree with each other, she'll tell you, "We don't get into arguments and shout. We have civilised debates." which is basically the same thing) with saying that the blouse was going to become a rag or pochha in the next year or so.

'Which, needless to say, disheartened me all the more but that's pretty much the lifespan of any kind of clothes in our house. Like Shakespeare's Seven Ages of Man, from As You Like It (which we, unfortunate souls, have to study. I'm saying unfortunate because I find it far too silly for liking; others find the language far too difficult a.k.a archaic to sink their teeth in. However, our English teacher has made it ridiculously enjoyable, though) you also have the Seven Ages of Any Item of Clothing In The Average Indian Middle Class Household which goes as follows -