First

It was the first day and her stomach definitely knew it. She had put up a brave face while being dropped off at the gate, but now as the great blue building loomed up frighteningly stark, she stood rooted to the spot.

The other thing which made her throat dry were the hordes of raucous girls milling around - there were groups of them in every corner, all looking similar in their pleated blue skirts and starched white collared shirts yet different enough for her to know that there could be a multitude of rejections, multitude of sniggers.

She stood there for sometime, both relieved and worried that nobody had noticed her as yet. And then suddenly, one of the brightly chattering girls looked her way and stopped her incessant flow for a second. The others in her group also looked at where she was looking and for a moment there was silence. And then there was a giggle. Or half a giggle. But it was enough. It broke into a deluge of whispers, nudges and sly glances. It was not long before some of the other cliques standing around caught on.

She sighed. A little in relief. Well, now she knew where she stood. She had that decision taken out of her hands.

The new weird kid. In a pink frock with puffed-up sleeves and a broad flowing crinkled tunic, knee-length socks and canvas shoes from Bata, matching ribbons in her hair and spectacles.

Years later, she would thank her stars that she got her first lesson on keeping the ol' chin up - inadvertently, mostly because her mother had such a bad sense of style.