M for Mediocrity #AtoZChallenge

source: Dreamstime

There are two kinds of people in this world. The ones who have their lives sorted out, and the ones who have no idea what they're doing. If you're among the latter, welcome to the mediocre club. We have been rowing our way ahead with no sense of direction. We have let ourselves be guided by the flow rather than our choices. We have successfully made that majority which goes unnoticed.

You see, we have been building the podium for that minority who succeed. We're the reason they're on the top. We keep trying to climb ahead only to end up tumbling over ourselves, not realizing that we make the very mountain that the winners climb over. The joke's on us if we continue to try, because either way, we'll remain to be the muddle in the middle.

In the name of happiness

Dear happiness,

Back when we were kids, we didn't think much about you. You were around most of the time, so we took you for granted. It was during teenage that you started playing peekaboo. We were only beginning to meet your counterparts. The blood-boiling rage, the envy, the clouds of frustration, the yearning, and the blend of it all that we couldn't put a name to. We did manage to hunt you down in the midst of the mess. It was still possible. But now I'm twenty-one, and you've conveniently settled in a land I am unable to step on.

Choices

Source: worlartsme

"Are you sure?" He asked the six-year-old. Here it was again, the crossroad of choices. The tiny mind was plagued with the fear of picking the wrong choice. She looked up at her mom desperately for hints, as if answering this question depended on life itself.

To her relief, mom nodded encouragingly. It was one of those lucky times when there was someone else by her side to give the green signal. Having gotten the approval, she turned to the salesman holding up the cute pink dress from across the counter. "Yes I'm sure." she chirped confidently.

The Vagabond

Source: Viewspaper

The engine roared to a start. The passengers were shuffling in their seats.

" I heard the roads are bumpy. " mumbled one to the other.

"Aye." came the reply, " Plenty o' curves 'n' heights. Best be prepared eh?" he said,
popping his pill. His neighbor rummaged through his bag for mufflers. The biting wind shouldn't get the better of him now should it?

The Race

 Source: brothersoft

Faster! Faster! the voices screamed. His lungs were ready to burst, his head throbbed as if a hammer was breaking through from within. Every inch of his body ached, yet he kept running. Faster! They bellowed still. He knew he couldn't go any faster than that. Or maybe he could, but he just didn't want to. What was the point after all? he thought. To trudge his way till the end where he'd win some badge like everybody else, a badge he didn't even want...

His train of thought was cut short by another who'd just overtaken him in the tracks. It was no more surprising to find people casually jog past him while he struggled to drag himself forward. You're not trying enough! the voices screamed into his ears again. There's still time. Work harder! He clenched his teeth as he tried to ignore his aching muscles, mustering the mettle despite the hurt. Not until yet another one had crossed him with ease did he notice that he had hardly been moving ahead. His efforts had been in vain. I can't. he spluttered, staggering to a halt.

Introversion

Mirror Balls & Confetti:  We are the quiet ones

They sat in the same table like good old friends with so much to catch up on.

She stood in the corner with her cup, watching them.

Two choices lay before her. Awkward fake courtesies, or comfortable solitude.

First Year Troubles #MondayMusings

Source: Lesson 695

So we're just back from classes and chilling in our hostel rooms, swiping through whatsapp messages when we suddenly hear rushing footsteps in the corridor. The next moment, our door bangs open to reveal a panting girl ready to explode. I could've sworn she was going to say "Troll in the dungeons!", but then all she said was - "They're coming!" That was enough though.

Richer than the Rich

"Why do you look upset dear?" the voice was heavy with concern. The little girl in rags looked up at the tall lady standing before her. She had tight jeans and a sleeveless tee on with a pair of sunglasses that matched with her outfit. A beaded bag with a slightly torn zipper hung over her shoulder. "What's the matter?" she asked again.

The little girl took a few steps back, clutching a poker in her hand. She couldn't understand why this strange lady was talking to her. "Do you need something fixed?" she asked the lady, shooting furtive glances behind her at the same time. It was only then that the lady noticed the few torn shoes and bags at her feet along with some repairing tools. Fumbling through her beaded bag, she dished out some cash and handed it out to her, only to find the little girl shaking her head. "Do you need something fixed?" she repeated, still with worried glances across the road.

The lady stared at this shabby kid who must be all of eight years old, living in the roadside, and refusing money. "Are you expecting someone?" she asked her, following her anxious glances. The girl looked suddenly frightened as her eyes darted back to the stranger.
"A-are you here to take me too??" she stammered. The lady found this reaction to be quite strange. She knelt down and touched her hand, "I'm here to help."

The girl sprang back in horror. No stranger had ever come close to her, much less touch her! "What do you want?" she cried, "Dada's missing! They took him! I know they did! I won't let you take me too!" The lady knew now that she needed help. "Who took your Dada?" she asked patiently, " We'll find him together." The little girl  only looked on with great suspicion.

Then, quite hesitantly, she began to speak up, "They came here the other day, telling us not to work anymore. They told us to beg instead. They said, that way, they'd make us rich!"

The lady was surprised to find a look of disgust on her face, "Don't you want to be rich?" she asked. The girl shook her head, "Never! I know how rich people are. Dada told me about them. They are cruel people. They like money more than their dadas, I would never be like them!"

"Did your Dada go with them then?" asked the lady. "No way! Dada would never beg! He refused, and they started fighting. Dada went away today morning and hasn't returned yet! They must have taken him!"

 The lady went closer to her, trying to reassure the lost soul. The sun was beginning to vanish, and she wished she had a pack of biscuits to give this girl - for she probably hadn't eaten all day. Just as she was contemplating to take the girl to the nearest shop, there was a quick, fierce movement behind her. And before she knew it, a young boy had yanked the little girl away from the woman. He looked barely sixteen, and was as shabbily dressed as the girl was.

"Dada!" squealed the little girl with a tone mixed with joy and relief. But the boy did not seem pleased. "I told you to stay away from such people didn't I?" he scolded. His sister was shaking her head, "No Dada. Don't worry. She isn't rich, she was very kind to me." The boy eyed the well-dressed, posh woman with some caution. His scrutiny was disturbed by a tug of his shirt, "Did they hit you Dada? What happened?!" He turned away from the intruder and gave the little girl a huge smile. "Nobody hit me Munni! Dada found a job! And soon you will go back to school!" Little Munni was jubilant as she leaped over to hug her brother.

The woman watched the celebration in silence, holding the few currency notes that had failed to soothe the little girl. Her own life hadn't treated her well, and she wished she could trade her money for someone who genuinely cared for her like Dada did his sister.

He'd noticed that the lady hadn't left. "Can I help you?" he asked. She felt guilty for not being the one asking the same to them.  Taking out the beaded bag with the torn zipper, she said "I need this fixed."  The boy nodded and took the bag.

As he set to work, his sister sat down next to him, smiling as if she was the happiest person on earth. The woman looked at her beaded bag that cost more than what the kids earned in a day. Yet, the smiles on their faces was something she was unable to buy for herself. She knew then, that they were truly richer than the rich.

Source: Deviantart.com

Linking with #MondayMusings

Perks of having a Gorgeous Bestie

Source: pinterest

Evening time. Intolerable heat. A hefty middle aged man paced up and down before an exhausted classroom. It was five minutes to bell. Must he continue? Or take a much needed break himself? His eyes darted from the all-time-conscious first-benchers to the sleepy heads at the rear. Heaving a sigh, he decided to make use of the last few minutes. Bad choice.

The class moaned in unison when he raised his voice. And as if in answer to their moans, the bell rang early. He made no effort to hide his relief as he left the boiling classroom. I perched myself on the desk, facing the boys row.
"So is it true?" I asked the one before me.
"I only told you what he told me. Make of it what you wish." he replied.
My eyes shifted to the row farther away. The guy in black was gesturing to me to meet him outside.
"See? I'm leaving anyway. Tell me what happens later." the boy in front of me picked his bag up and left.

I went out myself and bumped into a gang of boys. Oh not just any gang, the gang. The back-benchers gang with wierdo hairstyles. The gang that never missed a day in meeting up with me. Or to be precise, never missed a day in asking me about her.
"Two hundred and something" said the smaller one among them.
"What?" I said blankly.
"That's gonna be my rank for the entrance."
"Oh?"
"I'll get into Medical College."
I still wasn't sure where this was going, "You mean you'll study hard. "
He ignored my remark. "In five years, " he continued, "I'll be a doctor...and by then she'll be an engineer right?" he was now looking at me.
I stared right back at him, amused. One week of classes, with not even a hello to her, and he had their future planned? Gosh, guys can be so crazy.

The middle aged professor intervened, so the little guy had to leave his story unfinished. When stepping away, someone tapped my shoulder. I turned to face another classmate. "Let's go to the mall, its the weekend." he said. His intentions obvious well without his next line, "Take her along. And uh, the others too if you want."

"We'll see." I replied politely, stepping away again, and looking for that someone who summoned me out.
"Psst." There he was round the corner, the boy in black from the other row. He approached me, looking all nervous.
"So did you tell her yet? Do you think she'll like me?" his eyes were so full of hope. I bit my lip, wondering how to tell him that she wasn't looking for anyone right now. Ah well, a small lie wouldn't harm now would it?
"I'm sorry." I said with the humblest expression possible, "But she's taken."
That was the easiest way.  And before he could ask who that 'lucky' guy was, I walked away.

So much for having a pretty bestie! First the guy who likes your friend befriends you, and then all his other friends come and tell you why he befriended you. Eventually the beans are spilt and you're expected to play the wingman. You instead become only a sincere messenger. Never mind the outcome, for in the long run you end up with plenty of fun time and a whole new set of friends. Lost in thought, I rejoined my girl gang, only to find all of them staring at me.

"How?!" exclaimed one of them, "Just how?!"
"How what?"
"How are you close with everybody in here? It's only been a week!"
I grinned, turning to her. She stood there in all the elegance and gorgeousness of her demeanor, but with the same simple confused look as any other in our group. Pointing at my dear old friend, I said  "She is the secret."

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This post is linked up with #MondayMusings at EverydayGyaan