Get Inspired: Writing Contest Entry

Hey guys! I am back for good, after a brief hiatus.

First of all, that short break did me a lot of good. Not only was I able to come up with a bunch of amazing ideas for blog posts, but I was also able to focus on my entry for the writing contest and come up with something I am very proud of!

Speaking of the writing contest, I would like to thank Bryan Hutchinson from PositiveWriter for this great opportunity. It’s such a good way to get people involved and give them a platform to share their work. Also, it is incredibly generous of him to hand out such fantastic prizes. He’s a great guy. You should totally check out his blog by clicking here.

Just so that we’re clear, I am participating in the ‘You Deserve To Be Inspired’ writing contest, organised by Bryan Hutchinson from PositiveWriter.com

Here’s my entry 🙂

 Positive Writer Writing Contest Entry

The greatest tragedy mankind has ever known, affects artists of every kind. It’s when guitarists don’t have a tune to strum. It’s when chefs don’t have a dish to cook. It’s when writers don’t have an idea to put on paper.

It’s a lack of inspiration.

Maybe, just maybe, I can help with that.

Five years ago, in June of 2012, my world changed when I moved from Sydney, Australia to Pune, India.

Suddenly, where there used to be Darling Harbour, there was a pani-puri stall. Where there used to be Coles and Woolworths, there was now a delivery guy bringing us milk at seven in the morning. Where ‘The Daily Telegraph’ used to be in our mailbox every day, there was now ‘The Times of India’ lying on our doormat at 6:30 am.

It was like somebody switched stations on the radio without a warning. I went from Selena Gomez to Mikka Singh in a heartbeat.

Let’s continue.

My society is a small one. Three buildings overlooking a central field, with the works, swimming pool, tennis court, basketball court and whole bunch of other cool stuff.

The real charm, was in the people. Mostly, in the kids. Every evening, a bunch of kids would gather in the ground to play football. I watched them from my balcony, everyone from 3rd graders to 12th graders, laughing, teasing, having fun. Saturday mornings, they would go swimming. They were always at each other’s house, the whole gang. It was wonderful.

For them, not for me.

They were so tight-knit, like a real family.

And I was scared. Really, crazy scared.

For starters, we didn’t have anything like this in Sydney. No one came to play outdoors. None of the kids walked into their friends’ house anytime, not without the moms arranging a suitable time and place at least a week before the ‘playdate’. Nobody even lived in societies.

Then there was my history with friends. Australia was amazing, but it offered me little in terms of friendship. There was the bullying. I reported it before it got too out of hand, but it’s not something you can just forget. Even without the bullying, I had always felt like a tag-along in our group.

Time passed, things changed. I went down every day, learning the rules of football and the technicalities of badminton. I was new, and you could tell, but I was making progress.

But if it was that easy, it wouldn’t have been real.

This is where the problem arose. You know the nasty girl in every story, who hates everyone for no reason and makes it her life’s mission to be pretentiously sweet, but super bitter in reality? Well, the one in my tale came with a side order of extra-mega-nasty. One fine day, she yelled at me for no reason, in front of everyone, for something I didn’t even do. She lost her marbles, and never really got them back. It was hard, and humiliating, and she didn’t stop. I think she knew how horrible she was being to me.

But for some people, throwing blame around is an easier route to take than acceptance.

She made my life very difficult. Everybody suddenly hated me. I retreated into the safety of my house for three whole months.

The phone would ring. I would lose myself in my books. Kids would play football downstairs. I would write stories until my hands begged for mercy. People would say things behind my back. I would put on my fake smile and play along at home.

But I was never content with my own company. I hated being alone. I have always lived for friendship, and at that time, I had none.

So, one day, I decided to fix that. I got up, I walked out, and I decided that wallowing in my misery was not going to win me any friends.

It was that simple.

Now, five years later, my society friends have become as much a part of me as my brain, or my legs, or my novels. They are my family, and I cannot even begin to imagine what I will do when I have to leave this place.

They are some of the best people I have EVER known 😊.

When I can’t go down, my friend calls me up the next day and we gossip over the phone in hushed whispers. When we’re playing hide and seek, and we have to stay quiet, I make the ugliest faces possible until my friends start snorting from laughter and eventually we all get caught.

There is nothing quite like friendship.

Take it from a fifteen year old girl.

Here’s what I learned along the way.

  1. We must remember our past, not live in it.

My past with friends, darkened with the scars of bullying and the blemishes of fake friends, was stopping me from opening up to new people. I was scared that I might end up getting pushed away or picked on again. But, I was never going to find out if I didn’t try. Sometimes, risks don’t pay off. But when they do, it’s great, so you just have to go for it.

  1. We should learn to give our absence to those who don’t appreciate our presence.

One girl made everybody hate me. I didn’t want to give her that power. Negativity is a serious no-no. Especially when I wasn’t at fault, I didn’t need to force my presence on anyone. Giving people space can heal wounds just as well as a band-aid.

  1. We were born to stand out, not fit in.

I tried my best to blend in with everyone in the beginning, but that was my mistake. I retort if someone is mean unnecessarily. I stand up for myself and my friends. I was, and still am not, the same as them. I’m an amazing person, and so are they, and you, and if I must change to make people like me, then they’re not worth it. I am unique. I chose to embrace it.

It’s not the most touching story, or the most heart-breaking, or the most beautifully written.

But it sure is my story. And if you’ve ever moved to a new house and had initial adjustment issues, it was probably yours once too.

So get some tape, and fix those broken friendships. Or put on a smile and some confidence, and build new ones.

Friendship is kinda crazy.

But we would go crazy without it.

Total Word Count: exactly 999 words

Writing the word count was an awesome habit that I picked up while learning  IGCSE English. Not only does it mark the end of the piece that has to be assessed, but it also makes life a whole lot easier for the examiner (in this case, our pal Bryan 🙂 )

Well, that’s it you guys.

I really, truly hope you liked it.

I will be posting again tomorrow, as per the usual schedule 🙂 .

Thank you for reading!

ThePastryPoet, signing off.

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