What’s so great about Molly

I remember back then when I decided to stay happy and follow people’s advice to “not being depressed”.
I was around 21 when I first came across Molly. She was so amazing that when I told my mother about her, she labeled me crazy and that I was hallucinating again.

This is a preview of my “Molly”, which I’ve been working on lately.

Like any beautiful incident in our very pathetic lives, this was a beautiful incident which changed my world.
Her bright blue eyes were a rare sight in my region, and her smile was like a cool breeze on a summer day, when it hits your sweaty chin.

I was in the metro, going home standing in the midst of crowded passengers. Although I barely see my phone when I am not home, it was that time I kept glancing at its screen. I was nervous. It has been so long I was invited to a party, and with that sense of attire, I would not blame my classmates for never inviting me again. My red crocs and denim capris were a dangerous choice for a party already but with a very loose t-shirt to conceal my love-handles, I always manage to catch eyes.

I was persistent, taking the phone out of my shorts and putting it back in, almost continuously. My mama said it was a sign of depression. But what could I do, it was not voluntary and the moment I realized what I was doing, a couple set of glares were already staring me down.

I don’t usually sit in the metro, I like seeing passing buildings and parks from the window, but I somehow got one and for no reason, I sat down. Perhaps I was too uneasy to realize what’s going on.

My mama believed I hallucinate because my medication worked more than it was prescribed for. But it kept me from hurting myself, so we all went along with a dead hope that someday a better cure would come out. I once saw naked women in my bedroom and some rotten lemmings inside our fridge before I screamed and ran towards the balcony to jump. There are no lemmings for about 3000 miles from my home.

I was lucky my brother was around and he pulled me in, slapped across my cheekbones and hugged me tightly. I was yelping with tears and breaths. Depression is never easy to deal with.

I was homeschooled because of my sufferings, thus being nervous for parties was normal for me, or at least that’s what my mama told me before she dropped me at the station.

I don’t know why’d I feel this way though. was born without a dad, and my mother worked her ass off to raise me and my brother. I practically lived alone since he died a couple years ago.

Why I felt nervous?
Maybe it’s the air, I’m not used to that.
“Next station is Rajiv Chok, …” the PA announcer or her recorded voice began as I wiped a drop of a tear under my glasses.
I wanted friends, needed friends. For why I’d even go to such silly interactions (parties).

Suddenly I felt a power break as my skull bumped to backglass where I was sitting and it was the beginning of my new life.
Her waist was shining and she was looking stunning in that yellow saree.
I could not see Molly, she was facing the other side, standing far across me. Her blouse was cropped, and tight. And her hairs were tied in a bun but I could tell she was curly like me.

I placed my bag on the seat and walked almost 2 meters to approach her. I was shaking before seeing her (with the idea of the party), one could only imagine my state of awkwardness when I offered her my seat. There were at least 5 people standing between my seat and her. Yet I walked all the way to her, to offer my seat.

There was muffled laughter around us and then a long pause. I was worried someone would take that seat and it was obvious she would not accept my offer. I seemed rather creepy to her and she can’t be blamed. But she smiled and walked towards my seat. She took my bag, sat down and settled that over her lap.

But it took me a minute to respond, I was still lost in her smile.

“Thank you”, I felt an emotional boner. Never since ever, a beautiful girl smiled at me before.

She grinned.

Her face was dusky, and eyes were kind. But it was her smile that encaged my heart. Do I hear heartbeats running wild? I asked myself as I stared at her breasts, still standing in front of where she was sitting.
I thought I could hear her heartbeats, and dear God, “they were beautiful”, I said that loud in a softened voice.

She noticed it and passed me a glare of disgust while concealing herself with my bag.

I was too embarrassed to apologize. Her face was now red and I realized something. They were my “racing heartbeats” which now slowed down with the shame and embarrassment.

And I felt cold, realizing I was full of sweat. My heart was going numb.
Is that embarrassment still? She called out to me, and so did dozen people around me. Down I fell.
I probably forgot to take medicines and managed to raise my blood sugar levels somehow. I could feel someone pressing my chest and giving me CPR as I vomited out.

That was the first time I met Molly.


Read Josh’s adventure in Encountering Ghosts in India

Follow the development of Molly on my Instagram Page @reesgargi

Interact and get in touch on Facebook as well.

Leave a Reply