Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Help Me Please (Chapter-2)
I never was a reserved one. I always wanted to be the prankster. I loved experimenting in my life.
By the time I was 11 I had joined numerous hobby classes. I tried dancing, singing etc. But I couldn't keep my feet firm in either of those classes. After the initial excitement I always ended up feeling bored of the same old monotonous routine.
I was very famous in school. I was a scholar. At that time I looked a little geeky but with time I learnt how to woo boys and charm them around me. I became the damsel which every other girl was jealous of.
I was filthy rich. My dad had a huge business empire. He was a cement exporter and importer. We had a lot of factories in and around
India. My mom
was a high profile neurologist. It was a love story for my mom and dad. It all
started on a bad note with few verbal exchanges in a party and then it
transformed in to apology sessions from both sides and finally culminating in
to love and marriage.
My dad was a Bengali and my mom a Punjabi. It was never easy to get the both sides on the same page. The culture shock couldn't be handled well by my nana & nani and dada & dadi too. They all shook their head in disagreement when they heard about the blossoming love story.
Both were respectable families and hell bent on diving my parent’s love and tearing it down to bits and pieces. But it didn't work. My mom and dad were so much in to each other that they took vows if they won’t be together they’ll commit suicide.
When their parents heard of it they got furious and scared. Finally after a long ordeal my parents got married. It was a classic tale. Even the marriage day was marred by some serious accusations. My mom’s family came from a long line of doctors and they had a huge reputation in
New Delhi. My dad was no less in Kolkata. But
due to his business he used to travel a lot.
My mom understood my dad’s line of work completely. She never interfered in his life. My dad was a loyal husband too. They enjoyed each other’s company and the end result of their love is me i.e Tanisha Roy.
I am half Bengali half Punjabi girl. I speak both the languages well. I dress up like any modern day girl and I didn't like eating fish. I was more of a gol-gappa girl. Gradually my dad shifted his base to
New Delhi and my mom
though reluctant at first to leave her in laws behind gradually agreed.
My grandparents too agreed to move out to a new place for the sake of business. I was brought up in an orthodox environment. What my mom and dad did no one in my family including relatives wanted to ever happen again.
Though it happened twice after that but in my case everyone was bit extra possessive. I was the only daughter and the only child. I was welcomed with open arms in the family.
The day I was born my dad ended up with a multi-crore contracts for his company and I became the lucky mascot of the family. I was the girl with a silver spoon. Chauffeur driven cars, loads of servants, plush bungalow and n no. of houses all over
India. It was an ideal set up to spoil anybody. But I was not bothered about all these technicalities of my parents. I was the girl who hated going to school, spoiled and soiled
her uniform each and everyday was aware of the term make up by the time I was
13 and had friends irrespective of class and background.
Though my parents advised me against it but there was little they could do to stop me. I was a well pampered mannered girl.
By the time I was 15 I had numerous flings and n number of boys fighting among themselves for me. I was a perfectionist in each and every way. I was arrogant but I knew how and when to use it as a weapon against people who never liked the filthy rich and arrogant status of mine.
I never fell in love as for me it was a non-sense concept. Love and I were poles apart from each other.
But I think my destiny was planned otherwise. I too fell in love.
He was the one I could drool for. He was the one who was in every sense perfect for me. He was class apart from every other boy I ever had fling or went on a short term date.
He was uber cool. He was classy. He was none other than Manav Thakur. He was the boy of my dreams. My love, my everything and probably a boy with whom I could spend my rest of lifetime.
But he is not part of my present? Where is he now? I miss you Manav. I really do. Please come back to me.
(To Be Continued)