Story #19: One Drunk Afternoon (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

It took me numerous days to decide which story to tell. Not that I had a lot of them but yes if you think deep and metaphorically, everything does seem pretty. Even your own shadow, though it is dark. Not being a racist. Damn. I am a soul flipping sides from dank memes to poem porn. So first I thought to tell about the nights I cried myself to sleep about something and when I woke up, it didn’t even matter. Or about the partial heartbreaks, partial because I don’t have one and also the ones about existential crises. But then these are the tough ones. Life will teach these to you at the right time, if it already hasn’t.

So my story is all about one late afternoon, I was chilling with my friends at a friend’s place. A few friends and chakna and a little beer. Now, a little turned out to be a little too much for me. I was put to bed by all my responsible friends. They left. Now it was me and the ‘owner of the place’ friend. Stop it if you are thinking of a gumrah plot. I almost slept but just then an annoying music hit my ears. It’s my friend playing some stupid game on his phone. I couldn’t resist. We had an unimaginably enormous fight. So I leave. He didn’t stop me either. I climbed down the stairs and because I suck at direction, I didn’t know where to go. Left or right. This means I went in both the directions one by one. Until I took a public transport to my place. I stopped the vehicle at the park near my home. Bought a lemonade. Sat in the park. For no soul searching but for getting sober. I reached home. Safe.

That would be the end of my story.

My story wasn’t about how my drunk friend was, still is an irresponsible video gaming freak. It’s about something I am never gonna forget. Something I would like to remind you if you have forgotten. ‘In the end, when worst comes to worst, it is you, just you. I had a lot of people to call, to take me home. To take care of me. But metaphorically it was my fight. And also I was afraid they would take my lemonade.


Some experiences give us a lesson in life, no matter how stupid or funny or sad they might be. Here is a lesson that has been focused upon in so many stories, and I’ve begun to feel that it’s the central concept in today’s teenage philosophy: finding the comfort in being alone, and coming to terms with the fact that its completely okay. And it’s so true. 

There will come a point in each of our lives that we may feel terribly alone. In that moment, how we can make ourselves feel will make the difference. Can you talk yourself out of a downfall? Can you get back up, all by yourself?

-:-

(The Anonymous Anecdotes is a project under which anyone can send me a memory, a story or an experience from their life that had a profound impact on them. It requires people to write their respective experience along with the way it changed them or their perception of life. According to the project, these stories are being published anonymously, with the intent of spreading a positive message and a hope that anyone who reads, relates or learns. If you’re interested, you can send me your story at ratti.priya5@gmail.com.)

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Story #8: Bold & Beautiful (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

Since I was fifteen years old, my dad made me independent. I learned how to drive a scooty, I used to go to the school and tuitions myself, and I even used to help my dad in his business by paying office and house bills. It was surely an easy thing for a child living in a metro city, but in a small town, that too in a locality with narrow minded people- these things mattered a lot. 

Once, my dad asked me to buy some non-veg food from this restaurant at 8 o clock in the night and that too on my scooty. There, I was surrounded by all these uncles and boys and at first I felt very scared and shy.  But then I don’t know what came into me; I felt that sense of confidence to face the world. All alone.

I used to feel a bit frustrated while doing all my work by myself. All girls used to be accompanied by their fathers and brothers. But I used to be alone.

Now, I realize the real motive of my dad behind all this. He was making me independent and confident. This thing made me feel that girls are no less than boys, and we should never feel this thing within. The world will dominate and scare you, but its up to you to face it. Only you can prepare yourself to be bold and brave.

A person is all alone in this race. No one is going to be by your side. Its you who has to take decisions for yourself and own up to all your mistakes.

Only you can make yourself bold and beautiful from within.


In India it’s usually the male child who is laden with the responsibility of carrying out such chores. But it inspires me how doing something for her father gave this person an urge, and the confidence that she could do anything by herself.

Here’s an effort by a girl to overcome her inherent fears, to pay no heed to society’s judgments, and to be free in every sense of the word. Don’t we all feel the same at some point, too? In fact, don’t we all want the same?

Someone whose childhood has led her up to this current state in her life where she’s a happy, and more importantly free soul; free from dependence on anyone for anything; and all this a result of one small experience, standing at a restaurant one night? Little moments in life really make us who we are, don’t they?

I’ve come to idolize the way her words exude a confidence that she seems to have heaped into her spirit through experience and struggles. This story has inspired me a lot because, this is what I want to be, too. Independent.

-:-

(The Anonymous Anecdotes is a project under which anyone can send me a memory, a story or an experience from their life that had a profound impact on them. It requires people to write their respective experience along with the way it changed them or their perception of life. According to the project, these stories are being published anonymously, with the intent of spreading a positive message and a hope that anyone who reads, relates or learns. If you’re interested, you can send me your story at ratti.priya5@gmail.com.)