Evening: Checked again. Desperate? 

Maybe.

Night: Got it. That letter. From her. This woman. 

Whose DNA I carry like unpaid debt. 

I started reading the letter: "I don’t think any parent tell their child about this phase. 

Let me show you my darkest corners. Let me show you my scars." 

How poetic. 

 "When I was about to start class 8th in 20XX We shifted(changed house or moved  to a new place). Again.Not my first time. It was the fifth. Your grandfather’s job— dragging us across maps like furniture. I prayed, just this once, to let me stay till class 10th in this school only[I was really tried of changing schools again and again.] New locality. New people. New school. New teachers. Everything is new." 

She prayed. 

I gave up on praying in 6th class.

"First day, new school. The awkwardness didn’t change. 

Then came Maya. Not an angel. Just... someone who didn’t hate me. We sat together. Didn’t bond like the movies say. But we were honest. And that was enough." 

I stopped. 

Read that again. Someone who didn’t hate her. Not besties. Just honest. 

Felt real. 

Too real. 

Letter continued : "FA1 results. My secret weapon. 

Maya? She didn’t change. She still fought with me over stupid things. But she stayed. Because we both hated fake." 

I closed the letter halfway. Had to. 

Because… I remembered something. 

This wall - In our house has 10 medals. 

                                                20 certificates. 

                                                 5 exam pads. 

                                                10 steel utensils (because apparently, intelligence = homeware).

 All hers. All this woman’s. 

 Different school names. 

 Different years. 

 Different logos. 

A gallery of borrowed brilliance. 

And then there's me. 

Same school since 2nd class. Same uniform. Same classrooms. 

No medals. No shields. Nothing for the wall. 

 And no, it’s not because I’m dumb. I got first rank too. A lot of times. But guess what? 

No prizes that year. 

Or worse— they gave it to the second-ranker(prizes for encouragement [But I felt it as a clear Discouragement, whatever nobody cares about your pain, they never did and will never do too]). 

And sometimes they(school management) said I wasn't “active enough” in other events to deserve first prize. Toxic people aren't they, how can teachers be normal ? they can't and they will never(not all but majority).huh..

And  Luck? 

I think mine got stuck in a traffic jam somewhere. 

She studied in five different schools. Still gathered stars. 

I stayed in one. Still invisible. 

I read the next line in that letter: 

"Sometimes, the world only sees you after you prove you can’t be ignored." 

 

Wow. 

She really said that.

The same woman who ignored me for years now tells me how it feels to be unseen. 

What is this? 

A confession? 

A connection? 

I don’t know.