So the other evening I was surfing channels trying to find something worthwhile to watch on tv. I finally chanced upon the movie ‘The Mean Girls’, the one with the infamous Lindsay Lohan. Now please don’t judge my choice in movies by this one. So for those who haven’t seen the movie, it’s about the new girl in town trying to fit in and torn between her true self and identifying herself with the ‘plastics’(a term used to identify the popular and perfect girls). It’s just another chick flick so you get the drift…
The movie actually got me thinking about my time in school. I must admit that I did not encounter any issues trying to fit in to a new school. I had no run ins with the plastics. I did my schooling in Chennai, and back then the term ‘Plastic ‘was well, just a material. So, I sat back to think if there were any mean girls in my class, anyone who said horrid things that made me cry or anyone who laughed at my hairstyle or my choice in hair bands or any soul who was nasty just for the sake of being nasty.. Nope, I couldn’t think of one name.
I continued to ponder over this trail of thought for a couple of days after. My thoughts slowly wandered back to me and it suddenly struck me that I had no clue about how I was perceived myself. I jogged my memory through some of the incidents that were still stashed away in the corner of the brain (school was a long time back). I cringed at the thought of many of them. I remember I stole the lead role from my classmate by convincing the teacher that my accent was better than hers, I indulged in gossip, slandering the girls in my very own group and was rather churlish when I realized that I was not as popular as I imagined. The most forgettable of all of them was the one where I complained about a classmate (who was not present that day) in a open forum. This one act I know, will haunt me forever.
I sighed, deeply disconcerted by this revelation that I was probably the ‘plastic’. I could not even ask myself what I was thinking, because clearly I was not. I was even more rattled because I was not sure where this behavior stemmed from. It was not as though I had some bad childhood or ill tempered parents, I even had my fair share of admirers amongst the boys. For the life of me I could never fathom what led me to be so malicious.
Then I wondered, have those, I wronged back then forgiven me? I know it has been long, and they say time heals but I wonder when they come across my name or remember me, do they think of me as the ‘Mean Girl’?
