starting scene

Title: For You, Amma… And Then, Him

I was just a fourth standard girl, growing up in a typical middle-class Telugu family. My father worked hard in the government electrical department. Every evening, he came home tired, with hands rough from work but eyes full of silent love. My mother was a housewife — the heart of our home, always busy but always listening. We didn’t have luxuries, but we had dreams, and somehow, that was enough.

When I completed my fourth class, my parents decided to shift me to a better school — one that promised more opportunities. But we didn’t realize then how different the new world would be.

The school was run by faculty from Kerala. None of them spoke Telugu. All communication was in English — a language I barely understood. My classmates were used to this system. They could speak fluently, write quickly, and understand everything the teachers said. But me… I was lost.

Every day I sat in class, confused and scared. I couldn’t follow what the teacher was saying. I couldn’t write poems or essays like the others. My notebooks stayed mostly blank. My first test scores were terrible, and my confidence hit rock bottom.

In the evenings, when Amma came to pick me up, I would hold back tears until I saw her. Then everything would pour out.

“Amma, I can’t study here. I don’t know English. I feel like I don’t belong here,” I’d say.

She would gently hold my hand and look into my eyes with strength I didn’t know I had. “You can do it, kanna. You are my daughter. Don’t give up. Try once, just for me,” she’d whisper.

Those words stayed with me.

And so, I decided to try. For her.

I started learning English — slowly, painfully. I read extra, asked doubts, and stayed up late to study what I couldn’t understand in class. I didn’t want to prove the world wrong. I just wanted to make my mother proud.

And then… something unexpected happened.

One ordinary morning, while I was arranging my books in class, I saw him.

His name was karthik — my classmate. He wasn’t the kind of boy you’d call very handsome, but there was something about him… something I couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the calm way he looked around the classroom, or the way he smiled quietly when no one was watching. From the moment I saw him, something pulled me toward him — not because of beauty, but something deeper. Something warm and strange.

I didn’t understand it then, but I know now — I fell in love.

Not with his looks. Not with his voice. But with the feeling I got when I saw him. Like, even in that foreign world of strange words and new people, maybe I wasn’t completely alone.

Then I started loving him . And my grades was so good my parents were very satisfied and my faculty.

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