Arshita's Blog (PART 1)

To the world, Arshita seemed like an ordinary girl. Everything she owned was like everyone else; an annoying younger brother, decent grades, a vivid imagination. Arshita was in the 11th, which meant that everytime she ever spoke to a relative, they asked her what she wanted to do when she grew up. What school she wanted to go to, which career path she wanted to pursue. The truth was that Arshita hadn't really thought about it.

She knew she had about a year to form some idea what she wanted to do with her whole life. All her friends had career paths. Nivedita wanted to be an architect. Shaurya wanted to be a mechanical engineer. With Fatima's talent in singing and acting, there was no doubt that she'd probably be a stage actress one day, and star in countless musicals. But Arshita was just...there.

She looked forward to grade 12, though, starting in April. But then came the lockdown, and to Arshita it seemed like an endless infinity of being stuck at home and not being able to meet her friends. The prospect of being indefinitely on house arrest horrified her beyond words. In her boredom, she went through a list of things she'd always wanted to do. She painted, and drew, and played a digital piano, and watched TED talks until her eyes felt like they were going to fall out. Nothing she did, however, seemed to her like anything other than a way to pass the time. In the course of events, Arshita started a blog.

It was nighttime, and everyone at home was sound asleep. Arshita's face was lit by the new blog interface on her phone screen, as she stared at it with some intrigue. Would people really be interested in what she had to say? She was no Malala, she was no Michelle Obama. She was just Arshita, a nobody on the internet. She caught herself thinking these things and mentally scolded herself. Arshita! Why would you think that? Do you think Greta Thunberg got where she is by thinking no one would listen to a teenage girl?

Having rid herself of her initial inhibitions, she tentatively typed something into the box that said write your text here. It really wasn't very profound, just a little thought that she had for a little while. 'Quarantine feels like that period between Christmas and New Years, where days blur into each other and you can't do much except wait for the next big thing to happen.' It was short, simple. Tired out, she decided to go to sleep.

When she woke up the next morning, she was a little excited to check on her blog, because becoming an overnight sensation is everyone's dream. To her disappointment, only 4 people had seen it, and none of them had even left a comment! Shrugging, she put down her phone and went to take a shower. Oh well, she ought to have known she wasn't the protagonist of a movie. Nothing that dramatic would happen to her.

She passed her parents' room on the way to the breakfast table down the hall, and hid a smile at her father's deafening snores, audible even through a closed wooden door. Her brother, already at the dining table, threw a dishcloth at her by way of greeting. She ignored it, having, in her opinion, great emotional maturity that came from years of being an elder sibling.

"Good morning, Ma!" she said loudly. Her mother smiled at her, setting a plate of boiled eggs in front of her. "Eat up," her mother said, patting her head before flipping the omelette her brother was having in the pan. Arshita dug into the meal, not thinking much about anything. It suddenly struck her that online classes started today, and she rolled her eyes. She missed school, and this just reminded her of it.

She went to download the app on her phone when suddenly it crashed. Her phone wouldn't switch on, not if she shook it, not if she repeatedly pressed the power button. She stared at it in annoyance, before sighing and going up to her mom to ask for the computer. Having obtained the computer, she then logged in, for 3 back to back lectures, by the end of which she wound up with tons of homework. She expected it, because since the teachers couldn't teach the kids, the kids had to teach themselves. She rolled her eyes, and found herself wanting to reach for her phone to have a group complaint session with Nivedita, Shaurya and Fatima. She then remembered that her phone was dead, and her dad was seeing what he could do to fix it. She had no choice but to do Chemistry. Ugh.

It was almost evening when her dad knocked at her door, claiming he'd fixed her phone. She stood up, pleased, and took it from him, thanking him for repairing it. When it finally switched on, she got the greatest shock of her life.

(To be continued...)