This was perhaps my first attempt at expressing myself through fictional characters - not in the form of fiction but as an expression of emotion felt very deeply. This in itself is a very important step, and I do not mind that it came off as very passive aggressive. What do you guys think?
There was once a boy called Bheja. He was forever upset that he didn't have many friends. Only eight, he started getting picked for being small, and this caused him to lash out angrily at his oppressors. However his bold approach was not well taken by his teachers who soon branded him loud, rash and brash. The name stuck, the image stuck, and world temporarily forgot the little boy. But the boy didn’t forget the world. He observed the working of the social strata, and soon started aspiring for one he had never tasted, the trust and love of a peer group. He went and asked his father, professor fry, how he could make friends. “Be nice to them, help them, stick with them. Give them your trust and they will give you theirs.” And so Bheja fry started making new friends. Any one was new to the school, he would be the first to talk to them, the first to make them comfortable, show them around. But he forgot he had a name, and image that keeled him. So he lost friends left and right once they heard about him from others. Bheja grew sadder, when everywhere he looked, the reaction was the same: Bheja Fry is so weird and chipkoo.
On the other front, his name and image grew far and wide because of such aforementioned exploits, and soon everyone knew of the loud and brash and rash Bheja Fry who was a weird and chipkoo. He met Kill and Roy, and decided to try one last time. He opened up to them immediately, told them all his secrets, told them of his image so they would not hear of him from elsewhere. So deep was his fear of desertion and loneliness. Wonders of wonders, they stayed. This confirmed to Bheja that he could win friendship and love, only by opening himself to people and take the plunge of trust into the unknown.
By now, the boy Bheja had become the Man Fry, 16, full of hormones, and a heart thumping for love. He fell head over heels over Roy, but thought thus: “What if she doesn't say yes?” And in his incessant fear of being deserted or rejected, he did not tell her. Shit happened, and Roy found out. Surprises of surprises, She said No. The one word pierced through Bheja's heart, that fry jumped off into moving traffic to end the pain. But one’s life is not controlled by him. He survived. But a changed person. He decided never to feel such a horrendous pain again, and went through the tortuous procedure of distancing himself from the only two who had accepted him as he was, in order to get over her. In the process, he realised, or conjectured that Love was a feeling. After all, the pain hit only when he got rejected. So, the safest way would be not to love.
The heart listened not to Bheja, and it started throbbing again, this time for a new woman. And so, Bheja broke his rule, and befriended her, knowing well that his method of befriending was bound to freak her out. It did, but she stayed, even if at a distance. Bheja didn't know whether to rejoice or to weep. He knew she would remain a friend, but his gut told him she would reject him if he asked. So he chose the next safest way out. He decided he would be with her always, even if in the periphery, but never ask her, so he wouldn't feel the pain. So what if he couldn't get the entire joy of love. He would remain satisfied in the little begging that he got as an acquaintance, and penance his way through life, celibate and pure. After all, wasn't he the weird and loud and brash bheja, who was chipkoo? What better could he ask for?
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