Powerless

I am one of those type of gals who has everything any other gal would die to have and yet feel powerless. I cannot reveal everything i have, coz in simple terms they call it boasting and if you understand complexities more than I do, you'll probably understand teh phrase 'blowing your own trumpet'. But, why do I feel powerless?

1. Every time in school, teacher asked us to write an essay on my favorite festival, the gal who read hers out just before I did, wrote and read out so beautifully, that the whole class and my teacher would still be drowning in her voice while I finished reading mine. N thus, noone heard.So, whether it was good or bad, it was not registered.

2. Maths is not every gal's forte and neither is it mine. The gals that could juggle with numbers better than Ronaldo can juggle with the soccer ball were more popular.

3. The day I wore that pink frilly dress most boys claim to despise but secretly like to see gals in, another gal would wear pink frilly dress with pink ribbons and lace lined socks.

Basically, there was someone always better than me. Now you'll tell me, why do you look at who is better than whom and who is not? Every individual has his own niche or creates one. Now tell me..do you remember that gal with the skirt that was just above her knee and sat right at her tiny waist, wore a crisp shirt, rose her creamy hand in air every time the chemistry prof asked to solve an equation, smartly walked up to the black board, elegantly picked up a chalk and wrote with the most beautiful handwriting you have ever seen the entire equation completely balanced? You do? Great..your memory is something I tell you! But that was not me. I was that healthy gal sitting next to her,engrossed inside the notebook trying to solve the equation before I confidently can raise my hand and write it on the blackboard. Now do you remember me? NO!!!!! But I thought your memory was good!

Now...if you are that tall,dark, handsome, broad shouldered,chiseled mandible guy every gal in the entire school drooled on, I am appalled that you don't remember me. But can't expect much from you, you were dumb to begin with. Now you'll ask me if I remember that tiny scrawny fellow that shared the desk with you and for the most part was engrossed in his notebook as much as i was and my answer would be yes..i do. Today he is in that MNC drawing a handsome salary and we still keep in touch.
I know, I was in a better position than the gal who was baffled just looking at the equation. At least I knew how to attempt it, so what if i was not quick enough.

My late granpa always told my mom that not all fingers on your hand are of the same size, but not one of them can undermine the importance of the other. And mom passed this saying on to me. But Granpa also said, always compare yourself with the person better than you. He said that so mom could better herself. But granpa.... that comparison thing makes me feel like a hapless baby turtle held by it's shell, frantically flapping it's paddles in air trying to move ahead.