"You're so short, you can't even reach the bottom drawer!" caustically exclaimed Umair, a rowdy boy in my sixth grade Science period who somehow always had tantalising remarks to make about my short height.
I sneered at him in contempt, rolled my eyes and walked away furiously. Even though I always pretended not to be bothered by the incessant insults and jokes made about me by my peers and friends, it did bother me. I would often find myself searching for remedies on the internet, or praying to God to somehow miraculously increase my height, in exchange for my ever-lasting promise to listen to my mother. I drank milk, did plenty of height-increment exercises, I even slept in an excruciatingly awkward position for five weeks because it was said to straighten my back and make me taller. Nothing seemed to increase my height, but what did increase were the number insults I received.
Glances of astonishment upon telling people how old I was, mirthless smirks by daunting individuals, even scornful comments behind my back. It was all common to me.
At the age of 9, it infuriated me. At the age of 12, it pestered me. Now, at the age of 17, I am absolutely indifferent to it.
In the first year of senior school as a 13 year old girl, I was chosen to play the role of a 40 year old housewife in the farcical comedy 'Caught in the Net'. Naturally, all the other actors didn't seem too sanguine because they thought the role wasn't appropriate for me. However, on the first performance of the play, I managed to receive a standing ovation from over 500 people who were seated in the audience. The gratification I felt from their applause has till yet, been unparalleled to any other feeling. That was the day the seed of my confidence was planted.
In the second year of senior school, I attended a Model UN Conference for the first time. Anyone who is well-acquainted with the rules of procedure of a typical MUN Conference would concur with me on the fact that anyone as short as me would be easily over-shadowed in unmoderated caucuses. At the end of the conference, I received the Best Delegate. That was the day the seed of my confidence sprouted.
In the third year of senior school, at our farewell party every student in our batch was given a title appropriated with his/her personality. Mine was, "Chota package, barra dhamaka" which roughly translates to "Small package, big delight". So far, I had been successful in battling the stigma and stereotype attached to short heights. My spirits soared. Subsequently, the seed turned into a flower.
Now, in the last year of A'levels I am the Head Girl of my school. I am no longer bothered by the teasing because ironically, not growing made me grow. It has given me the reassurance that being kind, generous and tolerant has no link to one's external appearance. It has given me the opportunity to be resilient and hopeful. Most of all, it has given me the confidence to believe that even at five feet two inches, anything can be achieved. The seed is now a fully-grown tree.
I sneered at him in contempt, rolled my eyes and walked away furiously. Even though I always pretended not to be bothered by the incessant insults and jokes made about me by my peers and friends, it did bother me. I would often find myself searching for remedies on the internet, or praying to God to somehow miraculously increase my height, in exchange for my ever-lasting promise to listen to my mother. I drank milk, did plenty of height-increment exercises, I even slept in an excruciatingly awkward position for five weeks because it was said to straighten my back and make me taller. Nothing seemed to increase my height, but what did increase were the number insults I received.
Glances of astonishment upon telling people how old I was, mirthless smirks by daunting individuals, even scornful comments behind my back. It was all common to me.
At the age of 9, it infuriated me. At the age of 12, it pestered me. Now, at the age of 17, I am absolutely indifferent to it.
In the first year of senior school as a 13 year old girl, I was chosen to play the role of a 40 year old housewife in the farcical comedy 'Caught in the Net'. Naturally, all the other actors didn't seem too sanguine because they thought the role wasn't appropriate for me. However, on the first performance of the play, I managed to receive a standing ovation from over 500 people who were seated in the audience. The gratification I felt from their applause has till yet, been unparalleled to any other feeling. That was the day the seed of my confidence was planted.
In the second year of senior school, I attended a Model UN Conference for the first time. Anyone who is well-acquainted with the rules of procedure of a typical MUN Conference would concur with me on the fact that anyone as short as me would be easily over-shadowed in unmoderated caucuses. At the end of the conference, I received the Best Delegate. That was the day the seed of my confidence sprouted.
In the third year of senior school, at our farewell party every student in our batch was given a title appropriated with his/her personality. Mine was, "Chota package, barra dhamaka" which roughly translates to "Small package, big delight". So far, I had been successful in battling the stigma and stereotype attached to short heights. My spirits soared. Subsequently, the seed turned into a flower.
Now, in the last year of A'levels I am the Head Girl of my school. I am no longer bothered by the teasing because ironically, not growing made me grow. It has given me the reassurance that being kind, generous and tolerant has no link to one's external appearance. It has given me the opportunity to be resilient and hopeful. Most of all, it has given me the confidence to believe that even at five feet two inches, anything can be achieved. The seed is now a fully-grown tree.