Horn is blown; To arms

Horn is blown; To arms

A nervous face, tension filled black eyes and lips bitten and chewed with a pondering grimace is what meets me when I looked at the wardrobe mirror. A face that is not particularly remarkable in any manner, not ugly just not something which warrants a second glance, height on the shorter side around 5 feet 3 inches with thick black hair a little more than shoulder length pulled back in a ponytail. With clothes I had pulled out of the closet all around me I stood there in the middle of the room staring at the mirror.

The hair I should search on the internet for some nice hairstyles and I should definitely wear makeup lipstick, eyeliner and the whole nine yards I thought pacing around the room. Maybe I should ditch the glasses and clothes I should absolutely wear something trendy and nice, that’s right heels, those high heels I should check and fix those to wear, I must look absolutely stunning and glamorous at the peak of my life I decided my fighting spirit aroused.

 I exhale out loud, a puff of breath sending my hair that fell on my face flying, sitting on the edge of the bed I stare at my reflection. A scrawny looking girl gazes back at me; short, dark skinned, spectacled, average figure not slim or thin not chubby or fat in short and absolutely contrary to my wishes not glamorous in any manner not even a bit by accident a plain Jane through and through.

I sigh out aloud flopping onto my bed staring at the ceiling. A phone call from one my friends from school, actually the only person from that place I have maintained contact with, was the reason behind my messy room and jumbled thoughts. “It is the 50th anniversary of our school and all the old students are being invited for the Annual Day celebrations in the morning, the combined old students meet by the Alumni association in the afternoon and during the evening the batch wise reunion; come on it will be fun don’t you want to know where everybody else is and how people look like after almost 5- 6 years” cajoled Ashley during his call. “ Show some interest, I am sure there would be many surprised faces if you turn up, you nearly literally dropped off the face of earth no contact details with anyone, no social media accounts and no one from school got into the same University as you too even I had to contact you through your parents workplace. Come and show them what you got girl” his words seems to still echo in my ears. I had totally cut off all contact with my school life, classmates, those acquaintance friends and teachers, I sometimes wish I could just forget and delete that entire period out of my life. I was sick of that place, of the people there who only thought of me when they needed me for something. Sick of the teachers who praised me to heavens when they wanted me to design up events and competitions for them and then conveniently forget about me when the time for receiving the credit for it arrives, of the fair weather friends who want me to listen to them, console them and stand up for them when they are in trouble put never remember me when it was time to find partners for trips and events. “You have put all that behind you Rachel and you are stronger now, you have grown up and this will never happen to you again” I whispered to myself trying to pull myself out of my thoughts.

I rolled around on the bed I still haven’t decided what dress to wear, my hairstyle, my shoes, my makeup if at all any and most importantly I still haven’t decided whether to go for the reunion or not. I clutched at my hair frustrated (my hair now looking as if a bird had nested in it) I never understood people who claimed that school life especially high school to be the best years of their life for me those 14 or so years was my personal hell, one from which I had no escape. People who say that children are little angels so innocent and pure, uncorrupted by the world well the only thing I want to say to them “my foot they have clearly never been on the receiving end of school bullying.” I had never been physically bullied, no kicking and slapping in insolated corners of the school or being splashed at the toilets or locked up in cupboards as portrayed in books and movies, nothing so crude but that was probably because even though I used to be the tiny kid who sat in the corner reading, I was physically strong and few powerful shoves when things attempted to get physical meant that I was safe from that style. But now thinking back I kind of wish that something like that happened so that I could go to the teachers and show them what was happening to force them to understand, to do something anything. Verbal and mental bullying they never leave wounds or scars at least not visible ones that you can show others and say see this this is the proof. The bullying I faced was subtle and to say in my current professions language it left no traces nor does any evidence of the event ever happening and in such a scenario the culprit walk away scot-free. The social exclusion, not being invited out for the birthday party of classmates when everyone else is invited, being the last one to be picked for any event even those that I am really good at, the attitude tone and manner in which they speak to me; you know those small teeny weeny things which seem so insignificant to the third person, things at which the teacher rolls their eye when you complain. Being called names and made fun of that just ended up in many wasted to the staffroom where it all boiled down to my word and their word and since there was no other witness or evidence, bang of the gravel, case dismissed due to lack of evidence or at the most a slap on the wrist.

To go or not to go this was the thought that plagued me the entire evening, I nearly worn down the floor with my pacing around in the room. To go meant to return back to that place which nearly (yes Rachel just nearly) left me mentally broken. I had convinced myself after all this while that I had but all those depressing memories behind me. That I will never ever be affected by people like them but in my heart I knew that I was not completely over with it that there was a small part of me that still sought their validation.

Suddenly something just clicked in me I jumped and faced the mirror “Rachel” I solemnly said to my reflection “you should go there is nothing left for you to prove you had already proved yourself by the time you graduated from high school, remember the time when that photographer said in front of everyone send that dark kid to the back line why is she in right in front she is ruining the photo and nobody told him to shut up didn’t that same photographer have to take your photo meant for the front page of the school magazine when you went up on stage to as you received the medal for subject topper and high scorer in the final national level exam from the same teacher who used to belittle you saying you are an idiot and you will never make it far because you are not academically inclined with all those who bully you in the audience as witness. That is the best revenge face slap but now you need to go for the reunion not for anyone else but for yourself you never went for the previous reunions but for this you must go and completely let go of that one last knot in your heart”. Just saying that aloud made such a difference I felt as if I was tons lighter.

My sister poked her head into the bedroom “So have you decided?” she asked. Yes I replied “I am going to go for the reunion tomorrow” I smiled. “So what are you going to wear? If you need my help to arrange your hair you better come to me early” she said walking into the room. “About that” I said turning around to face her “I decided to take a leaf out of the book of Elle from legally blonde movie I am going to own who I am and give everyone a good dose of the ever awesome Rachel.” I gave my signature smirk as I continued “that white formal shirt and blue jeans with those thigh boots and a high pony tail it is. Good old moisturizer with may be a dash of lip balm and eyeliner that’s all I need” I pumped my clenched fist in the air saying “you rock girl show them what you got Fighting!” I decided to turn in for the night so get my beauty sleep I would need all my fight spirit ready for tomorrow as I confront my worst nightmares head-on. Tomorrow… that is one battle that I cannot lose. Tomorrow … I will face all my fears and defeat them. Tomorrow… I must win.