"I want my love story to be as pure as fresh grass, those little pink and white flowers, that fresh wind blowing through my hair, like the innocent animal voices, akin to a child's happy smile during summer holidays, or that baby girl with a white and light blue checkered dress playing in the sand. All my life, I keep dreaming and searching until I find that, no matter what, I won't settle for anything less."
Hey you! You must be at your PG enjoying yourself after tiresome office work, or sipping coffee in your home, or perhaps even stalking your ex or having fun on your weekend vacation with your friends.
My name is Priya from Andhra Pradesh, India. This is my diary, which I named "Northern Lights." I will explain the reason for this name later.
Before you continue reading, I want to warn you. This diary contains my life's biggest secrets. I don't trust you, and I fear you might share them with others. Additionally, I admit that I haven't always made the best decisions in life. Would you still believe me?
If you choose to read further, please do so at your own risk.
April 23 2018,
The rain has just taken a pause; raindrops are clearly visible on streetlights and on the maple trees lining the road. Maple leaves are scattered all over the place. I'm wearing a white dress with yellow floral patterns and light brown flats. My hair is left loose with side braids. I am walking on the road, although the way isn't clearly visible due to the fog. All I can see is a man walking towards me, his long hair falling onto his forehead. He is wearing a black jacket, black jeans, and black shoes, although I couldn't see his face. We're about to run into each other, both excited to see one another.
All of a sudden, I hear my name shouted, followed by a burst of laughter, and then someone abruptly moves me. I open my eyes, and everyone is laughing at me. My maths teacher gives me a serious look, indicating, 'I will see you when the results are out.' My friend, Ravisha, comes closer and says, 'Don't tell me you're lost in the same dream again.' I nod my head up and down. 'Seriously, Priya?' she says.
But all the college students are very happy today as our summer holidays are about to begin. And I am even happier because we have this tradition in my home that every summer we go to our beach house in Goa. Next to our house, there is this Anglo-Indian family.
More than just neighbors, they became family friends. Aunt Jane, with her sweet nature and modern views, was a breath of fresh air compared to my mom's more traditional outlook. She championed women's freedom and encouraged them to follow their hearts. All summer, they'd be inseparable, talking for hours on end, a constant buzz of thoughts and laughter.
Meanwhile, Uncle Jack and my dad would bond over fishing trips and business ventures. And the best part? My grandparents and the Anglo-Indian grandparents formed their own inseparable squad, aptly named "Rock 'n Roll." Their summer fun led to the creation of this senior citizen's club, proving that age is just a number when it comes to having fun.
The secret I'm hiding is three summers deep, my heart's been stuck on Tristan, Aunt Jane and Jack's older son. He's like sunshine and secrets, his laugh makes my stomach flip. I ache to tell him everything, how his name dances in my head, how his smile lights up my day. But fear's a bully, whispering doubts and "what ifs?" What if he laughs? What if he says no?
He's tall, like a tree, with skin kissed by the same sun that warms my dreams. Those lips, like perfect rosebuds, hold stories I long to hear. He's smart too, a star in the classroom, while I stumble through life, feeling small and unsure. Maybe it's me, my own whispers of doubt holding me back.
But even with the fear, the flame inside me burns bright. This summer, maybe, I'll find the courage to let it flicker out, hoping it finds a spark in Tristan's eyes.
Ben, Aunt Jane and Jack's younger son, and I are a team. But being the same age, he and my younger sister clash constantly.
The last day of college arrived quietly, like the whisper of a summer breeze. The four of us—Ravisha, Mayank, Arinjay, and I—stood at the threshold of parting for our summer holidays, our journey having begun in the cocoon of our cozy neighborhood. Our houses, snugly aligned side by side, bore witness to the evolution of a friendship rooted in the innocence of childhood. Ravisha, Mayank, Arinjay, and I weren't just comrades; we were like a family. Despite the occasional disagreements, our bond, much like the stories whispered by the rustling leaves, remained untarnished and enduring.
Ravisha, the kindest soul among us, held an enigmatic grudge against men, a sentiment that often amused us. Mayank, recovering from a recent painful breakup, carried the weight of his emotions in his quiet demeanor. Arinjay, the pragmatic and logical one in our group, always came to the rescue when any of us faced challenges, displaying his exceptional knack for untangling problems.
With summer holidays looming and the inevitable separation ahead, we decided to throw a memorable party at Arinjay's house. His parents conveniently being away for the night set the perfect stage for our farewell bash. Ravisha and I took charge of the culinary delights, creating a feast of burgers and fries.
The night took an unexpected turn when Mayank discovered a bottle of vodka in the fridge. Spontaneously, we all teamed up to create a delightful pomegranate margarita using the mixer. Laughter and joy filled Arinjay's house as we danced to music, while Mayank and Arinjay engaged in a friendly video game showdown.
Amidst the laughter and celebration, my thoughts, like the meandering stream in the hills, found their way to Tristan. The very thought of tomorrow, when our paths would finally converge, set my pulse racing. Even in the midst of the party, my mind dwelled on the moments we had shared, each one etched with a sense of connection that fueled my excitement. It was as if the universe, in its quiet magic, was orchestrating the perfect stage for the unfolding of something enchanting between Tristan and me. A gentle hope, a shy expectation of something special that might bloom between us in the warmth of these summer months. In the innocent air, where every emotion carries a hint of magic, my heart fluttered with the sweet uncertainty of what the summer rendezvous with Tristan might bring.
As the night progressed, Ravisha, absorbed in her vlogging notifications, stumbled upon a disturbing comment. A stranger had posted derogatory remarks, prompting Ravisha to vent her frustrations about the misogyny women often face. She passionately declared that women should persist despite such challenges, letting their success be the ultimate response.
Suddenly, Ravisha turned to me, questioning my laughter. She asserted that true love didn't exist, only lust and men's deceptive actions. She likened men to prawns used by fishermen, suggesting that they employed tactics to capture women. Her disillusionment with love and relationships was evident.
In an unexpected turn, Ravisha succumbed to the effects of the pomegranate margarita and collapsed. Mayank and Arinjay, now focused on ensuring her safety, helped me carry Ravisha home. We gently settled her into my room, where she would sleep off the effects of the intoxicating drink.
I never took offense when Ravisha dismissed my feelings as naive or silly. I understood the wounds she carried, rooted in the loss of a friend to suicide caused by a man's betrayal. Her mistrust and aversion to love were products of deep-seated pain.
As I watched her sleep, I couldn't help but hope that someone would come into her life, challenging her beliefs and proving that love could indeed be pure and genuine. Ravisha's fear of love, a fear I believed she should not succumb to, was a hurdle that needed to be crossed. Life, I thought, should be experienced in all its facets, even the painful ones.
The morning sun peeked through the curtains, and my excitement fizzed like a cool, bubbly drink. First things first, I whipped up something yummy for Ravisha, my partner in all things fun (or crime, if you're into that!). Then, I picked my favorite top - a lavender one with butterflies and flowers that Mom expertly knitted with love. I adore knitted clothes, especially those made with care, so knit tops are always my go-to. Bright white jeans completed the outfit for a perfect sweet-and-summery vibe. I let my hair loose and put on a sparkly moon and stars bracelet. It made clinky sounds as I moved, like little bells cheering me on! Oh, and those "lavender half shoes"? They're actually ballerinas, my special pair that magically changes colors, like little chameleons from faraway lands. Pretty cool, right? With the sun shining and my outfit on point, I was ready to make this day bright and colorful!
Arinjay, Mayank, and Ravisha came to see me off at the airport. Don't worry, it's not a tearful goodbye—we see each other every third week of summer at our villa, and it's always a blast! We promised to stay updated these two weeks no matter what. We tied friendship bracelets for all four of us and started playing silly games in the airport. An old lady watched us with a smile, perhaps reminiscing about her own friends and good times. Lucky are those surrounded by good friends.
After the announcement, we sat on the plane. Both my sister and I wanted window seats to avoid a fight, so my parents gave one to each of us. My dad sat beside me, and my mom sat with my sister. That's how parents are, right?
As the clock ticks down, I can't help but feel a swirl of emotions. In just 3 hours and 45 minutes, I'll find myself in Goa, a mere 3-hour road trip away from seeing Tristan. My heart is doing this crazy dance – it's like a mix of excitement and nervousness.
To drown out the buzz of the journey, I turn to music, and "Champagne Kisses" starts playing. The lyrics hit differently: "Whose fault is this, that I'm crazy about you? You are in every single dream, and I'm thinking about you." It's as if someone took the words right from my mind, pointing directly at Tristan.
So here I am, lost in thoughts, thinking about everything. The result? Laughter. I'm laughing so much that my cheeks hurt. It's this weird mix of emotions – the sheer joy of finally seeing him, and at the same time, this nervous feeling in my stomach. You know, that kind of nervousness that makes you fidget and giggle at the same time.
And then there's this thing about Tristan – his influence on me or the pull he has over me. It's like this invisible force that I can't quite escape, and honestly, sometimes I wish I could. It's that mix of loving it and hating it, all tangled up in one.
My dad interrupted my thoughts and asked, "What's gotten into you? You've been smiling for no reason for three days. Even your mom noticed! You keep making excuses—Ravisha, Mayank, Arinjay—but I know you're lost in thought." I barely escaped by saying, "The lyrics are just funny!"
In simple words, it's like riding a roller coaster of feelings – the anticipation, the thrill, and the butterflies in the stomach. So, here's to hoping these mixed feelings settle into a perfect moment when I finally see Tristan.