In Born Confused, Tanuja Desai Hidier intoxicates her readers in a story about culture, relationships, and the discovery of oneself. The story helped me on a lot of things, it made me want to reconnect with my own culture and learn more about it. Dimple Lala had always been unsure to which culture she belonged; and I could understand why, in a time when the ideal girl was skinny, blonde haired and blue eyed, no wonder she felt so awkward. Then there was her Indian family, whom she thought she was never good enough for, but then again, I thought she never gave them the chance. She so quickly assumed that she wasn’t good enough for either culture that she never saw that she really was. In her relationships, Dimple made some bad choices. She thought her family didn’t understand her when they actually did, and she thought her best friend Gwyn was trying to steal her identity when she was merely trying to fit in and be a part of her life, just like Dimple was trying to fit in. Karsh, a ‘suitable boy’ that her parents tried setting her up with, really liked her but Dimple, thinking that he liked Gwyn and that she could never match up to Gwyn’s beauty and personality Dimple stepped out of the picture. I was happy when all the misunderstanding were solved and Gwyn and Dimple’s relationship was renewed and when Karsh and Dimple finally got together. I mean, you can’t just throw away years of friendship like that. Throughout the story, Dimple grows in many ways and through photography she finds herself. Her pictures tell a story, her story. They tell who she really is, and that she’s perfect just the way she is. Not only that but because of those very pictures it strengthened the bond between her family, and friends.
“It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.”
Chapter 2: Winnie’s Dead
Peter’s hand slammed across the girl’s mouth, cutting off her scream. “Sssh! Are you trying to wake up the whole neighborhood?” He didn’t recognize her, he had come back to look for Winnie and see how she was doing. After Hook had cursed Winnie, he swore to stay away from the Darling girls, but he couldn’t any longer. He was stricken with guilt- none of the darlings had ever come back home harmed before, and he failed himself when he allowed Hook to hurt Winnie. The girl grabbed Peter’s arm and dragged him into the room. She didn’t realize that Peter was a fifteen year old boy weighing just a little over 100 pounds. She soon toppled over but was able to reposition herself so that Peter was beneath her, straddled between her thighs. Her hand enclosed around his neck.
This was definitely not Winnie. Winnie was kind and gentle- this girl acted more like an animal!
“It’s you!” She growled. Her hazel eyes narrowed into slits. It seemed like she was aiming to hurt him. Out of his breast pocket, Peters small little fairy friend fluttered out. She shined as bright as the sun blinding the girl.
“Tink!” Peter smiled in relief as the girl released Peter to cover her eyes. Peter then shot up into the air and flew outside once again to safety. He crossed his arms and laughed in triumph.
“You fiend!” The girl just wouldn’t stop yelling. It made Peter wonder just what she could have thought Peter had done to make her so angry with him. On the other hand he had come for someone else not her, and her eminent anger towards him was not his first priority.
“Where’s Winnie?” He asked. “I came to see Winnie Darling.”
The girl who now appeared to be crying grabbed another book and aimed it for Peter’s face. He floated a little higher and grabbed it with his feet. He couldn’t help but give her a smug smile. She threw another book at him, which he caught with his bare hands. Peter began to get annoyed. Just what was her problem?
“Look. I just need to find Winnie. Do you know where she is?”
“Look below.” Her voice cracked, defeated. Maybe Winnie could explain to him later who the girl was. Right now, Peter decided to float down to where the girl had directed him. He stopped just a few feet above the small grave.
Here lies Winnie Darling: Wife, Sister, and Mother.
“And now I sleep, forever dreaming of Neverland.”
“No, no, no, no!” Peter fell to his knees and began weeping. Winnie couldn’t be dead. She was barely passed forty! This is why Peter hated growing up, it was nothing but a trap and all those who decide to grow experienced nothing but pain. “Winnie, no.” He cried. He didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye. Suddenly, the pieces began to make sense and he realized just how that girl knew. Those rosy cheeks, the honey suckle blonde hair; it was all just like Winnie’s. The only thing that was different was her fierce hazel green eyes. Still, she was almost a perfect match to Winnie. He looked at the books the girl had just thrown at him. They were all about him. They held almost all of their adventures, even the ones all the way up to Wendy.
Tink swirled around the grave and then placed a lily upon the small raggedy stone. Her bells rang the sad tune of mourning and Peter could faintly here her crying.
“I know Tink.” Peter whispered. “Unbelievable.”
About: Willow Darling, unlike the rest of the her Darling ancestors, hates Peter Pan. Her whole entire life, his adventures with her mother in the past have caused her and her family nothing but pain. And it’s those very adventures that lead to her mother’s ultimate death. So when Peter shows up by her window Willow is furious. Until she comes up with the ultimate plan, to make Peter Pan finally grow up-thus never allowing him to ever enter Neverland again.
“You know that place between sleep and awake;
That place where you still remember dreaming?
That’s where I will always love you.
That’s where I’ll be waiting.”
Willow sadly looked out her window into the crystallized night sky. It was nights like these where her mother would read her fables of the past about a boy who never grew up. But not tonight, nor will her mother ever be able to read to her any other night. Today was a day of mourning. Today was Willow’s mother, Winnie Darling’s, funeral. Willow’s eyes gazed down to the patch of dirt where her mother lay just beneath her window.
They couldn’t even afford a proper grave. It was the twentieth century for Christ’s sake, one would think that Willow’s Uncle Martin would have the decency to supply proper burial grounds. But no one cared about the crazy woman who spoke of another world where the things of a child’s dreams existed. No one cared about the complete and utter trauma that a child, of just fifteen years of age might be going through after watching her mother cruelly die in her arms. To the world, Willow would always be the ‘crazy lady’s daughter’. Nothing more, and nothing less.
Apparently, according to the doctors, her mother had something called Schizophrenia, some new mental illness where you saw things that didn’t exist. Willow never cried when the news of her mother’s death reached her, she never cried at her mother’s funeral, and she wasn’t about to cry now. In her opinion, her mom should have just kept her mouth shut. Then they wouldn’t have taken her away and sent Willow to Uncle Martin’s house. She would have had a normal childhood like everyone else, instead of one in isolation. But her mother was gone now and there was no changing that. All that was left were the many books she used to read to her, books about the boy who never grew up.
Willow scoffed at the thought. Who wouldn’t want to grow up? Growing up for Willow meant finally being able to do whatever she wants, and getting far, far, away from England and all the bitter memories. Willow gently rubbed her finger over one of her mother’s many books. On the cover was a younger version of her mom and a boy, flying off into the stars. Sometimes, if Willow was feeling deeply cynical, she would start thinking of bad things. She would think that her mother resented her life with her daughter and when her father was still around, him as well. Whenever Willow would catch her mother looking out this very window, when she ‘thought’ Willow was asleep, she could almost feel the yearning in her mother’s body. And if she looked closely in her mother’s eyes, there was always a hint of regret.
Maybe this is why Willow hated the very idea of Neverland, because without it even existing, it had stolen the rest of her mother’s love from her. It had stolen her sanity and happiness. Willow grabbed a pen and began to scratch out the boy’s face on the cover. She hated him. She hated him for taking her mother; she hated him for making her go crazy. The tears slowly began to form, but she bit her lip and held them back. She refused to give the boy on the cover the satisfaction that he had effectively hurt her. The satisfaction that he had finally gained all of her mother.
Willow whipped her head to the window and screamed in terror as she saw the very boy, whose face she had just violently scratched out on the cover of her book floating outside in the midnight sky. There was no mistaking him. His hair was a light shade of brown -as her mother had described many times- with second tones of copper and gold, if he was in the right light. He wore an outfit of all green and his eyes were many different kinds of blue. Mother was right when she said it was impossible to truly discover what the exact shade of blue was before you got lost in the deep sea of his eyes. But what mother had said wasn’t what truly mattered to Willow. What had mattered was that the boy floating outside her window, with his arms crossed and fury in his eyes- was the very boy of her mother’s tales. Peter Pan.
The boy who never grew up, existed.
So yea, this is a new story I’ve been working on, if you want to read more just go here: http://www.wattpad.com/13621337-grow-up-peter-pan#.UZA88bWTiSp
Service is the act of helping others. From when I was a little girl my mom has been teaching me- instilling in me- the act of service. To never take anything for granted and to help everyone in need. As Christians, it is our duty to help others who do not have the strength to help themselves. When someone is at their lowest point in their life, there is nothing better than to know that there is someone willing to lend a helping hand. I know what it’s like to need someone to help you, to want someone to just be there for you. I don’t ever want anyone to think they are alone. It’s very easy to help others; sometimes all they need is a smile or comforting words in a time of despair.
I remember a few years ago I was told a story about a man who once said that he always felt alone in life, that no one really cared about him and that he was going to jump off the golden gate bridge. Before he left, he said that if he received any act of kindness, even something as small as a smile, he wouldn’t jump. In the end, he ended up jumping- not a single person looked at him and smiled. I realized how often people take others for granted. You can never know what others might be going through. I try and help others by contributing to change drives, giving things that I might not need to others who do, and even doing something as simple as smiling at people on the street. A smile can be refreshing reliefs to others who are have a somewhat tiresome day.
I also like to look to Christ as an example; he came down to earth and served us. He washed the disciple’s feet, fed thousands of people, and healed many others. Then to top it off he died for our sins. There is no greater act of service than that. By servicing others I hope to influence and encourage people to do the same and simultaneously in the process spread the faith through christian love. I want to show them the love that Christ has for them through my acts of service. I want to show them that they aren’t alone.
The Glass Menagerie
When people don’t find fulfillment in their own lives, they tend to try and escape their problems. In Tennesse William’s play The Glass Menagerie Amanda, Laura, and Jim try to escape their misery, refusing to come to terms with reality.
Amanda, whose husband left her to follow his dreams and travel the world, has succumbed to her past. Bitter that her life isn’t what it was when she is younger, she constantly talks about a time where she had ‘many gentleman callers’. She reverts back to her memories where she is loved by many and had no woes. It is a stark contrast to her current conditions where her husband has left her, her daughters insecurities keep her from unlocking her true potential, and a son who is on the verge on leaving just like his father. She tries to overcome her shortcomings through her children and becomes so caught up in her past that it is almost like she half expects for one of her callers to show up at her doorstep and sweep her off her feet. Her delusions are exactly what eventually drive her son Tom, away.
Laura is extremely shy, and is always worried about what others think. To avoid having to make contact with anyone from the outside world she starts to seclude herself to her glass menagerie. One of her legs is shorter than the other, causing a slight limp. Even though it was barely noticeable, she complained to Jim how horrible it was to walk to class because it made a horrible thumping sound, only to realize that she was the only one who noticed it. Another time, while she was talking to Jim about her menagerie she states how she never hears any arguments between her menagerie glasses so that must mean that they get along well (Williams, 83). This symbolizes just how Laura’s thinking process throughout the book: As long as she continued to stay silent, and never voiced how she felt there would be no problems and everyone would get along. It is not until Jim’s short visit where that she finally gets her first glimpse at reality.
Tom found his escape from his oppressive mother in the movies he watched. But that only fueled his need to leave the house even more. When he finally leaves the house for good though, he regrets how he left Laura in her darkest moment (Williams, 97). While she tries to recover from the horrible news of Jim’s engagement, he gets in another fight with Amanda. His anger and selfish ambition clouds his judgment and leaves the house for good. Like Laura and Amanda he never confronted his problems in the house-the fact that they all were living an allusion.
A condition that strikes high school juniors. Symptoms include frequent headaches, frequent complaints of stress, random hyperventilation, violent mood swings, and a disinterest in schoolwork. Mainly caused by an overdose of AP classes, a very heavy workload, college visits, extracurricular activies, and school sports. In 99.8% of all cases of Junioritis, Senioritis will result. There is no known cure. Treatments include hurricane days or any prolonged vacation period.
My name is Ella Enchanted, and I have Junioritis.
Everyone always seems to forget how junior year is THE most stressful point of a child’s high school life. There are the AP Classes, the extracurricular activities, SAT’s, ACT’s, resumes, prom planning, and if you decided to just overkill the whole Junioritis thing like me, you also have student council.
Symptoms of Junioritis:
- Sleep deprivation– Since I have started junior year, my regular sleeping hours have been cut from 6-8 hours to 3-4, and that’s is on a good day. One time, I ended up only getting 1 hour of rest.
- Constant Stress– It doesn’t matter whether you have 3 essays due tomorrow, or you only have to write a thesis statement; you’re always stressing. The only thing that keeps me going is my lunch break-except that one day they ran out of food….
- The End of your Social Life– You know there’s a problem when you’re friends begin to wonder if you’ve died from the workload, and that’s why you haven’t been going out anymore.
- Junkfood is your Best Friend- To cope with the stress and because you’re just to lazy to actually cook REAL food, junk food will become you’re new favored meal. McDonalds, chocolate, that cheesecake that you should have just said no to…everything. Prepare to gain weight this year.
- Sickness– Lack of sleep and poor eating habits you get sick very easily.This does not mean you get to miss school. No, Juniors lose this privilege. Miss one day, and you end up being behind in class for about a week.
- Emotions, Emotions Everywhere– Tears, mental breakdowns, bursts of anger, and a bad attitude is what’s in stored for a junior. This usually occurs between AP Exams and Prom.
- The Final Stage– you just stop caring. You’re grades drop, instead of studying you sleep, and you begin to have a grim outlook on your future. Luckily, this will only last a few days (because you’ve done enough damage to realize you’re about to fail an AP class) and you will bounce back to your normal overworking self and start the stages again.
Or If you’re like me, and you want to ruin you’re senior year as well, take five AP classes.
Sigh, I need some chocolate.