Free The Girl I Last Loved by Smita Kaushik Page B

seen her sit during a session. Well there is a first time for everything. She breathed in and closed her eyes.
    “When I was in college, for me life was all about achievements, grades, extracurricular, opportunities, volunteering, some of which I enjoyed and some I didn’t,” she moved her hands in a haphazard manner.
    “What it wasn’t about were Friday night - outs, sleeping on Sunday afternoons, group lunch, lazy-evening lying down with friends, being invited to birthday parties, etc.” She folded her hands and continued.
    “I was doing something I really wanted and they were doing something they really wanted to, but maybe some random evenings while struggling with my bag overstuffed with books, I took a corner glance at those who were sitting around the ‘coffee bug’, ,chatting, humming… those smiles which I was never a part of…
    “Or maybe some random afternoon when results were out over the notice-board. I was the one jumping out and they were sitting in a distant corner worrying about their life,” as she finished, she regained her smile.
    “Maybe sometimes I wanted to be at their place and sometimes they wanted to be at mine.
    “Still we chose to be the way we were ‘because that was what we wanted and there was nothing wrong about it,” she folded her hands, which she normally did when concluding.
    “I traded up fun and friends for grade. They traded up grades for friends. Maybe we were right or maybe we were wrong, but trading was never wrong. It’s never wrong to trade. You can’t have everything so decide what you want more and let go of the rest. ”
    “Let me tell you something specific.” There she went again.
    “There was a girl in my college, who was pretty, intelligent, one of the toppers actually. She had a boyfriend and was a bit nasty, yet she seemed to be someone with a bright future. Suddenly round the third year, she got married to a rich business man. Went to New Zealand for honeymoon; she came back only for the exams, gave a shit to grades and most of all she was talking money. We didn’t even know those brands existed until we spotted them on her. Initially I pitied her life. Married at the age of twenty, mother at twenty - three – that was something I would have never liked for myself. But still I won’t call her wrong,” she straightened her back.
    “One day I was telling this story to a faculty member and she was constantly impressing on the fact that later one day my ‘now rich classmate’ may regret what she traded for and she might miss a self - made life like mine.
    “Then there I said it, ‘Maybe one day I might like to step in her shoes. Simple life devoid of struggle, everything down to her knees whenever she wanted.’
    “However, I clearly didn’t intend to get ‘hitched to a rich businessman’. Moral of the story: you may get attracted to another’s life, still you live your own because that’s how you have paved it.”
    There were few scattered claps. She signalled to everyone to keep it down.
    “You can only decide who the winner is if they are running the same race. For some, success is about doing well in life, while others find joy in making good friends. Someone excels as a daughter; some hit it as an entrepreneur; some find their love.”
    She was interrupted with suppressed giggles. She mocked a smile.
    “You can never compare a good engineer with a good cook and they shouldn’t even be compared. In a country like ours everything comes down to ‘how much you are earning’. That’s why we forget to respect what others are good at and sometimes what we are good at too.”
    She got up and moved around the crowd. I noticed she normally did so when she was just about to close the session.
    “Figure out what you really want. Prioritise them and never fear to trade, though stay careful whether you are trading up or down.”
    Everyone cheered and clapped as she closed the session. I noticed she was sporting a bright purple nail colour. I