1: The Fest We Survived
S (God): The first fest we ever attended was Freshers' Day.
And honestly, our seniors did such a great job
For one full day, we forgot that we hated that college.
They danced, they sang, they hosted,
They made us laugh.
they made us feel welcome…
And for the first time, I actually thought:
"Maybe this place isn't that bad."
But then came the other fests.
The ones where we had to participate.
And that's where the real tragedy began.
Let me tell you something about Storm and me:
We were those "whatever happens, we are NOT participating" people.
Zero confidence.
Zero talent (according to us).
Zero interest in embarrassing ourselves publicly.
I did participate once.
in a singing competition.
And that one attempt was more than enough
to shatter my remaining 2% confidence.
After that, even if someone asked me to hum,
My voice would go on strike.
Storm was even more strict than I was.
As far as I remember,
She didn't participate in anything.
Anything.
Except that one compulsory group dance
for Sports Day.
The whole class was forced into it.
And Storm danced like she was protesting for human rights.
And then…
There was V.
Different breed.
While we two hid behind benches and excuses,
V was out there shining like
the college's unofficial brand ambassador.
Traditional dance competition?
She was in.
Western dance?
She was in.
Drawing, chess, whatever.
She participated like she was collecting Pokémon badges.
And the worst part?
She was actually GOOD at everything.
Like, hello, where do people get this many talents?
Meanwhile, Storm and I considered it an achievement
if we survived the day without being called on stage.
So yes,
College fests were a journey.
V danced on stage.
Storm danced once by force,
and I…
well…
I danced emotionally in the audience.
But still, looking back now,
Those fests were the colourful parts of our grey college days.
V gave the energy,
Storm gave the attitude.
And I gave the commentary.
A perfect trio contribution.
A Rare Praise Sighting
V: Am I dreaming…
Or is this really S, the same God who usually has a complaint list about my
personality – actually praising me?
Because honestly, apart from my sibling, the only person who has ever had the most problems with my personality is S – the God herself.
So reading her words felt like spotting a rare species in the wild.
I was genuinely confused.
Is my God alive?
Did someone replace her?
Or did she accidentally write nice things about me, and couldn't take it back?
All my life, I've only received feedback like:
"V, you talk too much."
"V, you're too loud."
"V, you're too much."
So seeing praise instead of complaints?
This is officially my biggest college achievement.
And yes, I'm saving this chapter forever.
Recorded in her own writing. No edits allowed.
Now, about the fest part.
Yes, I agree; I did participate in most co-curricular activities.
But not because I wanted to be on stage all the time.
It was my escape route.
An escape from classes.
From assignments.
From deadlines.
From that constant academic pressure.
Unlike my two idiots, whose biggest fear during a fest was
"What if a teacher takes class?"
"What if they explain something important?"
"What if an exam question comes from today's lesson?"
Their lives were filled with what-ifs.
As if the teacher was about to reveal the secret of life.
As if they were the only two students destined to score full marks and save
the education system.
And yes, I know, we go to university to study.
But nowhere did anyone say that learning only comes from books filled with
math, science, and theory.
Learning also comes from:
Standing on stage
Failing publicly
Trying something new
Embarrassing yourself
Discovering confidence you didn't know you had
I truly believe they both could've done so much better in that part of their lives.
And no. I wasn't perfect at every activity.
But participation itself was enough for me.
I didn't lose anything from trying.
I only gained memories, confidence, and stories.
And honestly?
I wouldn't trade that for anything.
S (Storm): The Ones Who Clapped From the Ground
V isn't wrong.
God and I never really believed we belonged on a stage.
Not because we hated fun
but because we genuinely thought we didn't fit there.
Dance, singing, performances, competitions…
They felt like someone else's world.
A world made for confident people, loud people, and talented people.
And in our heads, we were none of those.
So we chose what felt safe.
Classes.
Notes.
Studies.
The place where we knew we wouldn't embarrass ourselves.
That didn't mean we looked down on people who tried.
It just meant we were scared to try ourselves.
But one thing we never failed at was supporting V.
Every time she went on stage,
we were there, sitting in the audience, eyes searching for her.
hands clapping louder than anyone else.
We were her cheerleaders.
Her silent hype team.
The ones who waited anxiously till her performance ended
just to say, "You did great."
Seeing her dance, draw, perform, shine.
It made us proud, even if we didn't say it out loud.
Now, about that Sports Day dance.
Let's be honest.
That wasn't participation.
That was kidnapping.
The whole class was forced into it,
And I was dragged into a group dance with the same enthusiasm that people have
for compulsory morning assemblies.
I danced as if I were filing a complaint against humanity.
Every step felt illegal.
Every move screamed, "I did not sign up for this."
And yet… I survived.
But apart from that forced tragedy,
There was one competition I willingly took part in.
Cooking without fire.
That was my comfort zone.
Something practical.
Something calm.
And I wasn't alone.
S - God was my partner.
We didn't win. We didn't even come close.
But we laughed.
We messed up.
We created something together.
And that memory stayed.
So no,
We weren't the stage people.
We weren't the performers.
We weren't collecting certificates.
But we were present.
We were supportive.
We were proud.
V learnt confidence from standing on stage.
God learnt stories from watching.
And I learnt that it's okay to stay grounded.
As long as you don't pull others down.
We didn't shine under the spotlight.
But we made sure the person we loved
never stood there alone.
And honestly?
That mattered too.