A LETTER TO THE SELFIE QUEEN

I hated “Selfies”. With time I have come to terms with the fact, that some fads are more bearable if you just let them run their course. But originally, I was a selfie hater.

So, I guess it won’t be too hard to imagine my perception towards anyone who would be crowned as a “Selfie Queen”. Even though the “Selfie Queen” actually won a dumb competition in a senior-junior ice breaking event, so not exactly her fault. Still, Selfie Queen?? Yuck..

Anyway, with the kind of love I had for the selfies and the similar feeling extended naturally towards their righteous queen, imagine my horror when a stupid “Name in the Slip” game chose me to be her buddy, just for the sake of a good senior-junior interaction.

Like, best social event ever.

Trust me when I say, I tried avoiding it like a plague. The queen was buzzing around me asking everyone who the person in her paper-slip was, as I sat there tight lipped, praying the heavens above to save an atheist from the amazing turn of events. But what are friends for. Welcome to the first awkward interaction.

And there I was, prior to that event, thinking I would definitely help my junior buddy in every way possible, guide them throughout so that they could make the best out of their first year. How could I do that to the queen?? Somehow the interaction ended and I thanked God we didn’t exchange the number. I smiled inside as I thought that the God was merciful. But no! Just a few days later, I accidentally stumbled across the queen yet again, and this time we ended up exchanging numbers.

Still, all had not been lost yet. I could still pass another three trimesters without coming in contact with this buddy queen of mine, in the total population of roughly 800 students in a closed residential campus. Speak about heights of optimism.

And then it happened. Bruno was gone. I don’t remember this bit because I was too shaken at that time. But somehow we ended up talking, me and queen. Surprisingly, this conversation was nothing like what I would have normally expected. Because it was a healing one. That’s when I saw Ms. Dutta for what she is and I came to know this remarkable human being.

OK, this all was too far-fetched and the exact facts have been dyed in heavy illusions to give this flavor. But too much praise is not my style and I am trying to heavily cut on sugar. Moreover, from this point onward, it’s going to be praises all along anyhow.

Among people I see and come across on daily basis, who all are unique in their own sense, the rarity which always has fascinated me is the complexity of the simplicity. People are either complex, or simple, or seem complex but are simple. Then there are people like Ms. Dutta, who seem simple, but you always get a vibe similar to the one you feel while looking at the ocean from the shore; the surface is easy to read but the depth cannot be fathomed. She definitely is much more than what meets the eye. And I confirmed this when we had conversations. We never discussed rocket science, but the thoughts conveyed always had a weight in it, which usually comes with observation and experience. The beauty of it all is, the kind of temperament you would imagine for someone described as above, she doesn’t come even close. Ms. Dutta is as chirpy, as bubbly, as talkative, as fun-loving, as inversely proportional wise aged her soul is. I don’t know how she finds this balance. Or if she has a switch to her different modes, where just one exists at a time.

Either Ms. Dutta, or the “Selfie Queen” 😛

With the terrifying ability to pull off any joke or sarcasm with such a straight face, Ms. Dutta is what you would call a bundle of joy, made up of ages old ingredients, wrapped up in fancy packing. To top it all off, commendable command over the language, and the “could get killed over” quality, of being a glutton without being fat.

Damn, even I am jealous.

Well, that’s too much already for your B’day so I’ll wrap it up by saying two thing.

  1. Thank God your Churus didn’t win SuperChef, because nobody should be potentially good at so many things.
  2. Pink Potato, if you won’t do anything about it, I’ll steal it.

Your b’days will come and go, but keep celebrating yourself each day. You deserve nothing less. Many many happy returns of the day.

 

 

 

Image Courtseyhttp://powellong.com/data/wallpapers/70/WDF_1157411.jpg

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