It was time to be selfish ... First Place, What a Character |
It was supposed to be a compliment. Coming from her best friend, she had no doubt .. it was supposed to be a compliment. Rationally, that is. Rationally, she had no doubt about it being a compliment. Emotionally, on the other hand ... Her insides seethed every time she recalled her friend's giggling face. Usually, she enjoyed hearing Boo-Boo giggle -- it was one of the reasons they were best friends, they loved laughing together. She had first heard that giggle forty years before, when they had been in Kindergarten together. She had giggled along, and that was it -- a friendship was born, a friendship that had seen them through four decades of ups and downs. Boo-Boo had comforted Sanvi when her engagement broke, knowing exactly what to say and do to make her feel better. "That guy was crazy, not knowing the gem he had," she stated, over and over, while supplying Sanvi with ice-cream and face-tissues. Sanvi, in turn, had helped with Boo-Boo's Mom's illness and subsequent passing, which had affected Boo-Boo's elder son, then aged 9, badly. It had been Boo-Boo's turn to help Sanvi and her Dad through grief, when Sanvi's Mom died suddenly a little over a year later. They had seen each other through the good times, too. Each one was official photographer at any occasion in the other's life -- birthday, Boo-Boo's wedding, children's naming-ceremony, award-functions (Boo-Boo being an ace architect), workshops, quizzes (conducted by Sanvi). Each was the sister the other had never had. How, then, could a compliment have changed things so completely between them? Or, rather, not between them, not yet anyway. Boo-Boo wasn't even aware of the change yet. It was still a simmering bubble churning in Sanvi's gut, threatening to burst in a haze of hate. Try as she could, Sanvi could not stop the broiling monster from infecting her thoughts. "She meant it as a compliment," she reminded herself, over and over again. "A compliment." But her words had no effect on the churning in her gut. They had been getting haircuts together, on adjoining chairs, in the beauty-parlour they'd been going to since it didn't even have two chairs. Shared haircuts meant shared conversations -- with each other, and with Verity and Marietta, who clipped away as they chatted. The four of them must've had dozens of such conversations, over the years. It was the first time that Sanvi had felt she was the odd one out. She was the only single woman among them, the other three being happily married with children. It had never made a difference before. Somehow, that day, it did. The other three were talking about how they would feel if their husbands had affairs. Would they cry? Yell? Forgive all? Listen? Talk? Pretend nothing was happening? Call the other woman to hurl abuses at her? Yell some more? Cry some more? "Sanvi's quiet," Verity had observed, suddenly. "Yeah. I don't have a husband, remember? I can't join a conversation that revolves around what-if a husband does something." "Sorry," Marietta had replied. "We were leaving you out." "It's okay. Maybe I'll be the other woman someday, anyway, and need these tips," Sanvi had quipped. "Hey -- it wasn't THAT funny, no need to cry with laughter, you three." "It's not that," Boo-Boo had hiccuped, trying to stop giggling. "It's just -- just -- you!" She had dissolved into laughter again. "You, being the other woman?" "Yeah, I just said, if I'm the other woman someday, I'll know how the wife feels ..." "You!" It had taken a while for them to stop laughing, but finally Boo-Boo had explained. She trusted Sanvi never to be the other woman. Even if Sanvi and Boo-Boo's husband Andy were locked in a room together and the key lost, or even if they were, just the two of them, on a tiny island together with no sign of rescue, she knew nothing would 'happen' between them. Verity had stopped clipping Sanvi's hair for enough time to pinch her plump cheeks and exclaim, "How could anyone even think of this cute little thing being the other woman!?" How, indeed? The bubble churned dangerously in Sanvi's gut. Cute little plump woman who could never attract a man, was she? She had attracted a man once, only it had broken off ... maybe they were right ... maybe plump, cute, trustworthy women couldn't be the other woman, even in a locked room or on a lonely island with no sign of rescue ... Maybe plump, cute, trustworthy women couldn't dream of being the woman ... that's why her fiance had backed out ... The bubble churned ... It was time to stop being plump, cute and trustworthy. The first step was a gym membership. She had expected another fit of giggles from Boo-Boo, but it hadn't come. Instead, Boo-Boo had signed up for the gym, too, saying that two heads -- or in this case, two bodies, were better than one. "We won't let each other worm out of going to the gym," she stated. Then, Sanvi had started watching what Boo-Boo wore, particularly on those evenings when she had a date-night with Andy and Sanvi was babysitter for the kids. Funny how she had never noticed before that Boo-Boo wore mostly pastel chiffon sarees when she was going to be with Andy for any length of time. She let her hair loose, too, over her shoulders. And she wore some sort of perfume ... "Which brand is that?" she asked Boo-Boo, once while they waited for Andy to bring the car round, to take Boo-Boo dancing. "Which brand is what?" "Your perfume." "My goodness -- I've been wearing the same brand since the day I got married and you've never asked before! How come you noticed suddenly?" "I dunno. Which brand is it?" "Fragrance of the Valley. It's Andy's favourite. It was his first gift to me, out of his first salary. I still have that one intact, I've been buying more to use." "Andy loves it, does he?" "Yes." "And he loves pale chiffon sarees, too." "Listen, what's with you? You never noticed all these things before. You always said clothes and perfumes and stuff don't matter." "Maybe they do ..." "And what's with the gym and all? You used to be happy with yourself -- you always said the politically-correct term 'pleasantly endowed' suited you ..." "Maybe I've decided to be -- hey, are those high-heel shoes?" "Yep." Boo-Boo's eyes had a naughty twinkle. "All the better to dance with him, all the better to kiss him, if I'm nearer his lips ... bye now ...!" Boo-Boo walked daintily to the car and climbed in. Sanvi turned and went to the house, thinking, scheming. ********* Sanvi had reduced three dress-sizes in three months. She received a gift from the gym -- a kurta to celebrate her new slimness. Boo-Boo proudly clicked away on the camera, as Sanvi ascended the stage to collect her prize. In the audience, Andy applauded loudly, and whistled through his fingers. From the stage, Sanvi noticed that whistle and smirked to herself. The first part of her plan seemed to be working. She had never shopped for sarees before, but it wasn't difficult since she knew exactly what she wanted. "Chiffon, please, pastel colours," she asked the saleslady. It took her only ten minutes to pick two suitable sarees. The perfume was available at a couple of stores she knew, and she actually remembered to buy some fluffing-mousse for her hair, if she was going to be wearing it loose. The high-heels proved to be tougher. She was completely uncomfortable in them, having donned high-heels only once before, for a college play. How did women walk in these -- and dance -- and -- and kiss? Didn't the fear of toppling over obscure every other thought in their heads? Maybe she could topple into his arms, if she was lucky ... "Ma'am?" the cashier was waiting for her to hand over her credit card. Blushing, she paid for her new shoes and, holding the package tightly, ran from the shop. ********* Boo-Boo and Andy's next date-night rolled around. She had to get there a bit earlier than usual. "Sanvi?" She had hoped he wouldn't hear her. She had managed to talk herself into the rest of her plan, but somehow, she didn't want her Dad to see her -- he had always taught her to be trustworthy, and now ... "Plump, cute and trustworthy don't get you the man ..." the broiling bubble in her was rising again. "Is that you, Sanvi? I thought I heard the front door. Why are you going out without saying bye? Where -- SANVI -- LOOK at you!" "Dad." "My goodness -- is this my little girl? I've never seen you in -- come into the light -- Sanvi! Look at you! Saree, high heels, your hair! Are you wearing perfume? My little girl!" There were tears in her Dad's eyes. He was looking at her, his face alight with pride and joy. "You are so beautiful!" he sighed, as he hugged her. Finally, he released her. "Where are you going, dressed like that? Is my special girl going somewhere special? And why was she sneaking out without telling me?" "I -- I -- wasn't sneaking out, Dad. I just -- I mean -- actually, I knew you liked Mom to wear flowers in her hair, so I was going to the garden to put a flower in my hair, so that I could show you the complete picture!" "You remembered about flowers in Mom's hair! My beautiful girl! You've always, always been my beautiful girl ..." She couldn't bear to face him. Plump and cute or not, she had always been his beautiful girl, and she had been planning to ... "Garden," she mumbled, pulling away from him and running out through the front door. Outside, she breathed the fresh air deeply. She looked down at herself. She wasn't plump any more. Had she lost 'cute' too? She wasn't sure. She didn't want to lose 'cute', actually. And she had been about to throw away 'trustworthy'. As she reached out for the champa-flowers her mother used to wear in her hair, she felt the tears pricking against her eyelids, and by the time she had got the flowers on and run back to her Dad's arms, she was sobbing. "I know, I know, I miss your mother, too," he said, holding her tightly. "Those champa-flowers bring back such memories! And you look so much like her, in that chiffon saree. Why did you ..." "There's a party coming up in the Quiz Association next month, Dad. They said we have to wear ethnic clothes. So I decided to lose weight, to get into Mom's blouses, and wear a saree. I just wanted to try the look out on you, today." "Your Mom is looking down at you now, my sweetie. She loves you. I love you. You'll be the best girl at your party." "Thanks. Dad! And now I better get changed into my jeans and t-shirt. I have to babysit for Boo-Boo and Andy tonight." "Say hello to Boo-Boo from me. I remember her this high, and now her kids are higher than that!" "I'll do that." She rushed upstairs. Luckily, she had time for a quick shower, to wash the perfume off. She donned a pair of jeans and a Donald Duck t-shirt and thankfully pushed her feet into a pair of comfortable sandals. She hesitated at her dressing table. The almost-unused bottle of Fragrance of the Valley stood there, next to her hairbrush. You couldn't tell, actually, that it wasn't completely new. Quickly, she picked it up, groped in her desk-drawer for a colourful envelope, and dropped the bottle in it. "To Boo-Boo, with love" she wrote on top of the envelope. Tucking Boo-Boo's gift carefully into her purse, she ran back downstairs, kissed her Dad goodbye, and made her way to where her scooter was parked. She wasn't plump anymore, she was healthy now. And that was the only thing that was going to change. All Words: 1995 "What A Character - April 2014 Winners!" First Place - "No More Miss Nice Girl" Prompt for April 2014: Put your character into a situation that changes his/her life in a significant way. Show the reader through your story that this event is a pivotal moment for the character. |