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Vaanga vaanga story kulla polaa 🚴🏻‍♀️💜🦋

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I imagined myself in a chaotic city, where pollution filled the air with constant noise. I couldn't fathom how people lived in such an environment.

I sighed, trying to remember the slogans taught by my father and pushing off my wondering thoughts.

But wait, my eyes became enlarged upon seeing the little culprit, a marigold flower.

It's resembling "manjal puttu," a favourite dish my mother used to cook.

Focusing on my mari, I think, I had to share my view of these cuties with someone, and the next moment I was shouting,

"Appa, Inga vandhu paarungolen, Indha mari gold'uh chedi nannaa valandhuduthu."

(Appa, come here and look at this marigold plant. It's growing so well)

I called my father in my Brahmin accent. Yes, I'm a brahmin girl or woman, whatever!

Now, coming back to my father, who was probably bathing or rinsing the clothes, But, I don't care about disturbing him; I just want to show him my gorgeous, sun-coloured, bright marigold.

It's my mari, actually; I planted it against my mother's protest of not planting it because of the bugs that could come for the honey.

"Boochi vandhaa neeyum, un appa uhm dha paathukanum chollinden."

(I'm saying now, make sure both you and your dad take care of it if insects come)

I chuckled, remembering her disappointment-filled words.

But upon waiting for my father, I was disappointed by his lack of response.

I'm not going to speak to him. Just for half an hour! That's all I could stay without speaking to my father.

My sweet father!

I visually pinched his cheek but got distracted by seeing the beauty of the verdant embrace of the Nilgiri Hills.

Ooty, "The Queen of Hills," a realm of timeless beauty, where every breath of the crisp mountain air feels like a whisper of nature's secrets compared to the thick air in the city.

"Tulsi ammanukku arpanippom, avalin paadhangalil swaasippom."

(We dedicate ourselves to Goddess Tulsi, encircling her sacred feet.)

And when my nostrils sniffed the fresh natural fragrance that radiates from the landscape in front of my house, the concentration of mine diverted again from pronouncing the slogan.

It looked like a canvas that was painted by my mother with rolling tea plantations, their emerald waves stretching as far as my eye could see.

Do you know what? As it was the month of November and the early morning of 5.30, Mist often veils the valleys, creating a dreamy, ethereal atmosphere that makes every moment of me feel like a scene from a romantic Maniratnam movie.

Oops, don't say that to my mother, who has strictly forbidden me from watching such films.

Though she's usually easy-going, my mother gave me the silent treatment for a month when she caught me attempting to watch one secretly.

Eventually, I convinced her and promised never to watch romantic scenes again. But deep down, I yearned to watch them with the man my parents would choose for me.

"Veetla paakura paiyan.".

(The groom my parents would select for me)

An unknown blush crept over my face.

"Hyder kaala veeranthaan
Kuthirai yeri varuvaanoo?"

(Will the brave horseman from Hyder ride here for me?)

I murmured a famous song from a well-known Tamil movie with popular leads.

"Seri poi college ku thayaar aagu di, vandhu un mari gold'eh paapiyaam."

(Okay, go get ready for college now, then come and take a look at your marigold.)

I heard my mother's booming voice, causing me to jolt. Hastily, I rounded the tulsi plant with the towel still secured around my hair, and I was adorned with red chudi and black leggings chosen by my best friend-my mother.

Here goes another sweet,

My sweet mummy!

Uff! Even calling my mother "Mummy" was restricted. I too felt it was wrong, like calling her a ghost. So, I agreed to stop using it immediately.

Concentrate concentrate concentrate.

I muttered to myself, attempting to push away the distraction, which was the biggest enemy of me from my childhood, and it will usually occur every early mornings when I come here to pray and round the tulsi plant.

Circumambulating the tulsi plant holds deep cultural and religious significance.

I don't want to hate this, but the rebounding nature of me doesn't mean to hate, I think. It makes me wonder around the things focused.

An adventurous girl, I am.

With a quick apology to the tulsi plant, I hurried into my room and swiftly discarded the towel from my hair, preparing myself for college.

Throwing the wet towel on the bed, I dried my hair with the new hair dryer I bought yesterday, finding it much easier in this humid climate.

After that, I went to my mother, who was waiting to braid my hair. I stood in front of her, showing her my back.

When she rubbed the oil three times over my head, I sighed at her.

"Maa ennai ellaam ivlo vachaa thalai mudi nannaa valaraadhu ma."

(Ma, hair doesn't grow well if you keep this much oil.)

"Aama chonnaanga, pesaama ninnu di"

(They said so; shut up and stand quiet.)

She chided me, refusing the comment, I uttered and I stood there pouting and fidgeting with my top, staring at the ground, slowly getting myself to zone out.

The sudden knock on my head made me come back to reality.

"Ahh!"

"Kaathaalaye enna di nokku kanavu? kelambu po.."

(What are you daydreaming about? go and get ready)

I pinched her cheek and, amidst the wooden beams and ivy-clad walls, rushed towards the backyard. It was adorned with colourful gardens where roses, daisies, rhododendrons, and many other flowers bloomed in delightful profusion.

I placed the towel on the hanger and stood there, once again mesmerised by the beauty of my town, which exuded an old-world charm that was irresistibly romantic.

Again, a romantic? Shit with your romance, Seetha!

But doesn't it feel good, too, to choose romance over nature's beauty?

"Kanaa kangiren kanaa kaangiren kannaalane."

(I am seeing a dream with us, my husband.)

Aww! What a situation song!

I ran inside again to answer my phone, placed it on the bed, and switched on the speaker.

"Hello"

I called softly.

"Maami, enna pandra? Ready, aaniyaa illayaa?"

(Maami, what are you doing?Are you ready or not?)

My friend, as usual.

"Nee phone'eh vai Kamali, appodhane nekku ready aaga neram irukkum?"

(Put down your phone, Kamali, only then I will have time to get ready properly)

I replied quickly to avoid getting her scolded as well and then declined the call, drawing eyeliner below my eyes.

I took the dupatta, matching to my dress from the bed, carefully making the pleats.

Yes! It looks so good and neat on me, and I love it a lot.

Ms. Perfectionist, but only for the clothes I wear.

I pinned the pleated part to my right shoulder and let the rest drape from my left shoulder. After securing it, I ran out, stuffing the laptop and charger into my college bag.

Rushing down the sloping road after bidding bye to my parents, I halted near Kamali, who had been smiling at me since her gaze fell on me.

"Vandhutten. Nokku bus innum varla?"

(I came. Your bus hasn't arrived yet?)

I asked her, standing in front of her, adjusting my bag over my shoulders.

"Illa maami"

(No, maami)

She replied with a pout.

"Nekku vandhudume"

(My bus will arrive sooner than yours)

Kamali rolled her eyes at my provoking comment.

My college bus will arrive around 6:30 am everyday, making it easier for the driver to navigate the bus through the mist carefully.

"Sweater podalayaa nee?"

(You haven't worn your sweater?)

She asked, rubbing her arms over her sweater, feeling cold.

I shrug my shoulders with a blink and smile.

"Illaye. En sweater kilinjiduthu. Appa vera vaangi tharen nu solleerkaa."

(No. It's torn off; my father said he would buy me a new one.)

Kamali just gave me a hum.

I turned my gaze from her to the surroundings, when the bus horn sounded, pulling me back from the view of me on the school students who were waiting there near me for their bus to arrive. I looked at Kamali with a mocking smile, and in return, she playfully knocked me on the head before I got into the bus.

I was seated by the window, waving my hand at her.

"Bye Kamali, seekro vaa."

(Come fast)

Kamali gave me a fake glare, then shook her head with a smile.

And she disappeared from my view.

As a friend of a college bus student, I know she will feel a little worried about missing out on the college bus experience-vibing to songs on the AirPods, with the mist gently caressing the face through the open window. However, she reassured me that no songs on a government or private bus could beat the playlist I had curated. With a wide smile, I checked my phone to see Kamali's message as:

"Poongaatru.. pudhidhaanadhu..💃"

(Flower air is fresh)

I chuckled when she sent me the song she was vibing in the bus and sent her an "enjoy" with the same dancing emoji but as a male.

It's our constant duty to be there for each other, especially since we miss vibing to songs together.

I, too, played the same song and enjoyed it, leaning my head on the seat behind me with a smile.

Within another 30 minutes, I got off the bus near the college gate, took my ID card out of my bag, and put it on as I went inside. I headed to the first floor to wait for the lift, avoiding the annoying watchman Aunty, on the ground floor who always prevent the students to use the lift.

I ignored her like a wise queen and waited on the first floor. After three rounds of the lift, I finally got a free one and reached my class corridor on the fifth floor.

Who places the final-year classroom on the top floor?

My college does. It has such a "brilliant" idea, which is completely nonsensical.

"Haan, muttaa pasango."

(Stupid guys)

I twisted my lips.

And on reaching near the faculty room,

"Hey, my dear machaan, nee manasu vachaa, Namma orasikalaa, nenju jigu jigu dha."

(Hey, my dear machaa, If you put your mind on me, will we embrace each other? My heart's jig-jigging)

Humming the song and twirling my ID card, I felt so elated about today, a Wednesday, as I walked towards my class at the end of the corridor.

Excited on a Wednesday?

Absolutely. All final-year students were thrilled on this day because it's our time to watch movies, play games, and scroll through reels on our laptops more freely-even if our classes still have staff members.

Exception: the strict professors. Sad? Konjam bha (A little)

"Hey, my dear Rani, nee drea.."

Spoiling my happy mood, there comes the voice,

"Seetha"

Who's voice is that? A familiar one.

My gaze darted here and there before I peered through the faculty room window and caught sight of Vinitha Mam.

Oh. By the way, she is my class advisor.

"Mam"

But why's she calling me now? At this earlier?

Though I was frowning in my head, I continued to smile at her.

"Inga vaa"

(Come here)

She smiled back and called me in.

I nodded my head, moved to the entrance of the room, got inside, and made my way towards her cabin.

"Good morning, mam."

I wished her.

"Good morning, da."

But she gave me a quick response, picking up the files and clutching some papers.

Saami poruma, poruma.

(Patience, patience)

I refused to hear what my mind screamed upon looking at Vinitha's hurry-burry nature.

"Green report card fill panneetiyaa da?"

(Have you filled out your green report card?)

With her left hand trying to open her water bottle and take a sip, she asked me while her right hand was handling the file.

"Illai mam, pannanu"

(No mam, I have to)

My voice trailed off as I replied to her.

"Get it done quickly, ma. Mathavanga kittayum solli seekro mudikka sollu. No due procedures, laa vera irukku le?"

(Inform others too about this and get them done. You also have your no-due procedures to finish, right?)

She shut the bottle and placed it on the chair next to her desk.

"Okay mam"

I gave a nod again. Mam gave me a smile.

"Seri, enakku meeting irukku HOD kooda naan kelamburen."

(Okay, I have a meeting with your HOD; I'm leaving)

"Okay mam, bye."

We walked outside. Vinitha mam headed towards the HOD's cabin on the opposite side of me while I entered my class.

Smiling and waving to my classmates, I glanced around to see there were barely five or six students in the classroom.

It seemed like my college bus driver was in a rush today.

Shrugging and taking my seat, I opened the window next to me, placed my bag on the bench, and sipped some water. Then, I took out my phone to complete the task given by,

My sweet class advisor.

Again, sweet? Actually, I love sweets very much, as they are sweet like me.

I grinned.

Okay, ignore me, only for this comment.

"Fill up the green report card soon - by Vinitha Mam"

I sent the message to our unofficial student group named "IT Tharkuris" and called my mother to let her know I had reached college.

"Amma.. Ahn class ku vandhunden.

Aama ma. Nee chaaptiyaa?

Seri ma nee TV paaru.

Aprom naan koopudren nokku. Cheri ma bye."

(Amma. Yes, I had reached the class.

Yes amma. Did you eat?

Okay ma, you watch TV.

I'll call you later. Okay ma, bye)

I hung up the phone, opened my WhatsApp filled with 100+ notifications, and sent a morning wish to my close friends.

Then I switched to Instagram to check out any stories from my favourites, hoping to find something interesting, but I sighed and moved on.

To freshen up the day more delight and colourful, I opened Wattpad to see if there were any new story updates and transitioned from my nonfictional world to a fictional one, which often feels more real than actual reality.

Sweet mother, father, friends, class advisor, laconic classmates, beautiful surroundings.

This is my entire life.

No commitments and no disappointments, just like Hansika Motwani says.

I sighed with a wholesome smile as the leads in my favourite book finally got together after much drama and emotion. I continued reading the novel until one of my sweet people, Kamali, arrives.

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TBC..

How is it?

Is the character's point of view okay?

I'll begin with the continuous updates from this story after completing my ongoing one (KKP). Till then, I'm going to put this one on hold.

Only for asking you all whether the character's pov is good or not, I came with this chapter one of Seetha's pov. Do let me know your comments. I'm so insecure about this.

Do you know that I corrected and reread this single chapter for more than two days because of my insecurity about writing the character's POV for the first time?

See you all in the next update, bubyee🚴‍♀️💜🦋