From Silence to Storytelling: Visiting a Reserved Student’s Diary

Somewhere between the threshold of curiosity and entering society, I joined a mediocre English Medium school, and then and there started my journey of being a fear-stricken, anxious toddler-middle schooler-teenager and gradually the youth who masked all of this, climbing one or multiple steps a time to the “DREAM LIFE”.

This resonates with the experiences of a significant number of Asian youths.

Blaming society, family and relatives was the story of the past. Now that we are aware- that perhaps they themselves haven’t fully comprehended their actions. Breaking free from it and revisiting the buried longing for freedom to just do what makes them happy is governed by the excuse of hurting others' feelings and they are simply chained by their own rusted beliefs.

Standing up for ourselves? Saying NO to people who are close to us? Having to always please others?

Those were my reasons for having to forcefully eat the amaranth stir-fry of my then best friend during lunch, because her mother would beat her if she brought it back, or the teachers would beat her if found wasting. Best friend? No, we were following the pre-conditioned way of our seniors and what was taught to us.

I devour a good stir-fried amaranth now.

I had to switch my new box of crayons for the used crayon box of my “best friend” before I could even use it,
Making me pluck the yellow flower from the school garden despite the clear rule against it, saying NO to that would mean informing the PE teacher about my 2nd-grade crush.

Years of being a “reserved” student gave rise to two outcomes:

One- being that kid in school who is the absolute ‘paavam’ or the one who is always well-behaved.
And the other, an accumulated bitterness over the years. The inevitable deed of favoritism by some teachers to the studious kid and to their colleague’s child did nothing but add fuel to my resentment.

Was it an attempt to win the hearts of those teachers? Or did it serve to affirm my own self-worth? What motivated me to burn the midnight oil for the sake of achieving high grades?

Reflecting on those days gave nothing but the same feelings of fear, humiliation, and anxiety only less intense.

This is just one of the many stories that we sustained and me being one of the many kids who has similar, yet different stories. We do pass that stage and gain confidence, self-love, and courage later on, but the child in us remembers all these trivial details wide and awake.

Grief is essential to grow and glow. But it fades away in the tenure of time, only to realize that they either liberate us or continue nudging us.