From Twinkle, with Love

by Sandhya Menon

Some might call people like me losers. I myself prefer the term “groundlings.” See, in Shakespearean times, these were the poor people who would have to stand in the front of the stage and got called out (unfairly, IMO) for being rowdy and smelly and having the mange or whatnot. And then there were the snooty people in the back, who got to sit in, like, covered areas and look down at the groundlings and feel all superior in their silk feathered hats. But Shakespeare would never have gotten famous if he hadn’t appealed to the groundlings.

Being a human belonging to the wallflower genus, I’m kinda used to swallowing my words instead of speaking them.

I mean, this was going to essentially be a message from my soul, on display for all the silk feathered hats to gawk at.

Making art was intimate.

I wanted people to see me, to like me for who I was and what I had to offer. I wanted to use my talent to transform people’s lives and how they saw the world.

Why was I so desperate for her friendship when she obviously didn’t value mine even a little?

When people love something so much it fuses with what they wear, I feel this instant connection to them. The melding of passion and fashion is the song of my people.

But you must be unafraid, Twinkle. You must live life as if you cannot get hurt.

my vintage 1950s Kodak Medallion 8 camera. (Dadi bought it for me at a flea market four years ago to remind me of “the vast unknowingness of the human experience and how you must always strive to capture it,

Here was someone who was so passionate about his art, he refused to let small things like obscurity hold him back. He just leaped into it, somehow knowing he’d make it all work.

I saw what Sahil’s made of on the inside, and . . . I don’t know if this is gonna sound gross, but his insides match mine.

Sahil is like gentle sun on a winter’s day. You automatically want to turn your face to it and soak it up.

I kept glancing at Sahil as we drove; it was like my eyes were magnets and he was Iron Man.

I mean, women make up only seven percent of the directors who worked on the top two hundred and fifty movies.

So that’s what I’m hoping to do, too. Make stories about people who don’t get to see themselves on-screen.

You have the unique gift of catching the truths people keep hidden.

Sometimes I worry I don’t know who I really am. Sometimes I’m afraid nothing I do will ever be enough to set me apart.

It wasn’t that I was lonely, exactly. It was more like I was missing someone without even knowing who I was missing.

“Chamatkaar? What is that—magic? A miracle?” He nodded. “When I was little, I thought the word meant ‘golden fireworks.’ I don’t know why or how I connected the two. But when I see you . . . every time, Twinkle, I feel those golden fireworks inside me. And the only reason I can think of is that you have some kind of chamatkaar. You must be a special kind of miracle.”

When I’m with you, I feel like I can breathe.

So I wasn’t one of the silk feathered hat people, but you know what? I wasn’t a groundling anymore either. I was something completely different, an artist on an island, the only one brave enough to tell the truth.

I think I’m more of a moonlight kind of girl.

How do you begin to let go of the moon?

“Sometimes one must be strong enough for two.”

We have had so many interactions with them, deep, meaningful interactions, that we cannot separate their pieces from ours. And if we try, we would only be getting rid of some of the best parts of ourselves.

And it hit me fully: I wanted to make movies that would bring people together, not ones that would tear them apart. And if that meant I had to be penniless and unsung all my life, then that was okay with me. Some things were more important than fame and money.

But someone recently told me that if you can take steps to correct your mistakes, it makes a world of difference.

every action I take is a brick in my character.