FOMO - a short story I never had FOMO (Fear of Missing Out). When I was in school, I had a best friend who belonged to a rich family, unlike me. She had the latest pencil boxes, notebooks and bags. I, on the other hand, had to use a bag for a minimum of 2-3 years. But it never bothered me. I wore the same shirt for two standards, the same frock for two birthdays, the same earring for two years, and nothing bothered me. (Continued in caption) I gradually grew up and met you in college. I didn't have many friends, a handful of two. They both were single and kept on telling me how being single is better, especially in the first year of college. "You can flirt without having to worry about him," said one of them. The other added, "you can wear dresses without having to take permission". I laughed my lungs out. "Permission? He's not like that. Dresses and all don't bother him. He just wants marks," I said, feeling a bit proud. You were first class, gold medalist, topper of the batch. 10 semester topper! What a record. You wanted me to be the same, nothing more, nothing less. It was good, I felt, being ambitious. One day I told you with sheer excitement that I'm participating in the college annual program. I used to be a bharatnatyam dancer, "I'll again wear ghungroos," I almost screamed with joy. But your expression didn't change. After a moment you said, "What about your semester?" "But there's time..." I tried to argue. "It's LLB. There's never enough time for those fat books. They won't read themselves." Before I could say anything else, you stood up and went away, leaving me alone in the cafe where we used to sneak away. "He's right yaar," I said to one of my friends while withdrawing my name from the competition. After a few weeks, I bought a new top and wore it to our date. When you didn't notice, I asked you smiling, "This top is cute, isn't it?" You looked at it and said "You could buy a textbook with that kind of money," without a smile. "Maybe he's right," I thought that night with tears in my eyes.
