From Cocoon to the Butterfly…

From Cocoon to the Butterfly…

My life started in a country abroad – in a place of sunshine – the Middle East. To me, that was my country … My native place… My home. I saw India as a strange and foreign land. A place of everlasting rains, mosquitoes, bad roads and overflowing drains. Kerala consisted of people who used a language I spoke with an Anglicized accent. Was this my motherland? Oh no, not at all. I belonged to the Land of Dates, the Island of Pearls – Bahrain.

I had everyone and everything I needed there. My family, friends, a good school and most importantly, a wonderful climate. I was happy. But despite the sophisticated foreign culture, I was a silent, shy girl.I was a s loud as a car horn at home but always as quite as a as mouse outside. My friends were just as quiet and well-behaved in class as I. I was comfortable only with them or my family. I was enclosed in a cocoon and too timid to come out of it. Neither did I try coming out because I was happy where I was.

But then came the day I always dreaded in my life-the day I had to bid farewell to my home. The day brought a river of tears and a heavy heart. I simply could not say good bye. I could not believe that it was all over so soon.

I was plucked out of the country I loved and planted in the land; they call ‘God’s own country’. I did not know anyone and no one knew me. I was very apprehensive about joining an Indian School. The first day of class greatly disappointed me. Everyone, including the teachers, spoke Malayalam. I kept struggling with the language. But a month or so in St. Teresa’s School made me realized that it was not that bad. As opposed to what I expected, I made good friends. Some of them even found my English flavoured Malayalam amusing. Contrary to my friends in Bahrain, the ones here were pretty jovial and fun- loving. Probably because girls schools provided an atmosphere for students to express themselves freely in contrast to a coed institution where girls generally tend to be reserved amid boys. I was used to studying in such a 
school. The nature of my friends here influenced me. Next thing I know, I ‘m talkative and fun-loving like them. Life here was better. True, the place had all the flaws I saw in it before, but the characters in my life in India made up for it all. I began to love this place. Now I see it as my country … My native place… my home. My home- away- from home? No, home itself.

But it is not just my friends that changed me. My growing older must have been another reason behind it. I entered teenage – that phase of life where you crave fun, freedom and attention. I began breaking the silence whenever I was among my friends. In high school my name was almost always found in the class perfect’s list of the talkative. Even now some of our good old families friends from Bahrain listen to me speak in amazement. “Is this the real you?” they sometimes ask. “Since when did you start talking?”. “Since 1945 love story…” I say. They laugh more out of wonder than at the ridiculousness of my so-called joke.

But I am not entirely out of my shell. I’m more of an introvert than an extrovert. But looking at the past and comparing it with the present, I see that I have come a long way and I still have a long way to go. It is probably a step-by-step process. I believe that a day will dawn when I will break loose completely. After all, every cocooned caterpillar one day breaks free, spreads out its wings and flies, doesn’t it?’

Article By: Jisha Davis,St.Teresa's College