Story time! Speak Now

Please note: This is a Semi-autobiographical story from a long, long time back.

"Speak now"

I looked at the host and then to the judges as my brain processed the words and figured out the answer. Behind the line of judges was my mom with misty eyes. No, I couldn't allow myself to make eye contact or she would completely lose it, or perhaps I would.

It was the last round of the spelling bee contest and it was down to the arrogant yet intelligent boy and I. He was from the All-boys school next to my school which was All-girls, so of course I gawked at the bus going through the gate of my house every morning, only to catch them gawking back. I assessed him one last time, the air rife with anxiety, anticipation, and dare I say, sexual tension? His arrogant demeanor throughout the previous rounds had given way to focused attention. So, well, the arrogance didn't feel as unwarranted as I previously thought.

Prompt by the host again "Speak now", he spells out 

"H-Y-D-R-O-P-H-Y-T-E" perfectly, the biggest auditorium in my small city ringing with applause at this 15-year-old boy's intelligence.

Meanwhile I could not feel my cheeks. The smile on my face was frozen, my bunny teeth forcing their way from underneath my dry lips.

It was my turn now, and I focused on the word. "Succedaneum", said the host. What the hell was that? Is that an 'eu' or an 'iu'? I did a quick mental check through of all the flash cards I had prepared for the past 3 months; the thesaurus I had studied (yes, that was a physical thing in 2006 when the internet was only used for school projects or your elder sister's Facebook account which she accessed through the family desktop). Nah, the word did not strike a chord. I took a shot. "S-U-C-C-E-D-A-N-E-U-M", I managed to croak into my mic.

Applause.

Now it was the boy's turn again. I barely registered the question or the answer but all I heard on that stage on that June summer day was the roar of applause again.

My turn.

"Speak"

Correct spelling

Applause.

This went on for about 10 minutes until the enthusiasm began waning. None of us were backing down. 

Then the host came with a word with increased difficulty level.

'Pococurante' was the word.

The boy went in first. Deep in thought. Slowly speaking out

I was waiting. Please say ant and not add the e.

"P-O-C-O-C-U"

Oh my God don't let this moment end.

"R"

I dared to look at my mom again, almost wishing she wasn't here.

I had always been the 'good' child, getting good grades, great feedback from teachers, generally obedient demeanor in anything studies related. At least that was the definition of a good child in my Indian middle class family context. This was the first time in my (or her) life that I had participated in a city-wide competition and managed to reach the final stage. The product of hot flashes, her face was sweaty and almost sickly. My 13-year-old brain could almost imagine her puking on the back of the bald judge sitting in front of her. My eyes tried to deflect hers, but it was too late. She put one hand in front of her as if to signal 'calm down'.

I examined my own body, feeling fairly calm.

"A-N-T"

OH MY GOD KILL ME NOW. PLEASE DO NOT SAY E. As I shouted those words to myself, I realised calmness was out of the picture and my mom perhaps had a point.

I waited for the boy to finish his spelling. Just don't say another letter.

I closed my eyes to hear the last letter.

An exhale on the mic.

I opened my eyes.

He was smiling- the kind of smile you give someone you don't know very well when you pass them in the hallway, or the kind you give the McDonald's cashier when handing them the money for your jumbo burger.

An acknowledgement of a hi, a transaction completed.

A spelling done.

At least in his head.

And that was that. The host said in cautious words, "Well this spelling was just right, but not quite. Sorry you are disqualified".

And all eyes turn on me as I realize I won. Misty, arrogant, judgey, happy eyes. 

And then the familiar applause.

Oh, thank the Gods of Spelling. 

I shook the boy's hand, his eyes this time reflecting an honest enjoyment of the competition. We just basked in the presence of the opportunity on that day, and nothing more.

The cheque came in, trophies were given and smiling pictures were clicked. The 2 judges were these men, one a bit gruff and tall, and the other shorter and boy-ish, but both amiable and friendly looking, who were high-fiving each other as they handed me the cheque. Then the shorter judge with the moon shaped face turned to me and said, “We had bet the other judges that someone from your school would win today”. I smiled at their enthusiasm. 2 of the 3 winners today were from my school. I stored that picture of that day with me for years. Only, I didn’t need to. Little did I realize that I would be in touch with them years later as my coaches. 

As I stood smiling for the cameras on that day in 2006, in my two pigtails, sweaty white school uniform, and clammy hands, I could feel the adrenaline finally dial back, and this moment of clarity and simply calmness. 

Yeah it was safe to make eye contact now.

So finally I turned towards my mom who had added an emotion of pride onto her face which was already twisted with such layered emotions. Gone was the panic, the sweats, the puke-ish expression. This time her eyes were misty but not with anticipation, instead with happiness. Then she looked at me. Nothing but joy for me.

And I knew, this might be the first but definitely not the last time our team would be competing on a big stage.