Once upon a time in a not so far away land of humans lived a little girl named Hope. Hope was a girl with immensely active imagination. Her shimmering big brown eyes reflected the beauty of the entire universe. She was just 8 but had already built castles in her memory palace, had become the President of the Milky Way galaxy and had found her prince charming. Her world was perfect except for the fact that her imagination, Mr. Purple (purple being her favorite color), was her only friend. This was not because she had issues connecting with the society but because she was afraid of making friends.
Her father had a transferable job and they shifted from city to city after every 2-3 years. Change was truly the only constant in her life. As soon as she made a new best friend and thought that they would share all of their secrets for the entire life, it was time to move. As soon as she thought she had found the city which would fit her personality the best, it was time to move. For her father it was just business as usual but for her it was the utter hard work of building a new world all over again.
In the initial few years of her life, her heart broke every time they moved. The thought of leaving behind all the relationships that she had formed with the butterflies, the puppies, the kittens, the trees, the wind and the house was soul shattering. So, she decided to shut herself out from the cosmos of love and emotions. She stopped making human friends and started looking for friends who could move with her wherever she went and that is when she found Mr. Purple. True friendship with no strings attached.
The other kids at school thought she was weird, a girl who talked to the wind and was always lost in the la la land. She was the girl who could make original sketches which others could not comprehend, the girl who would sing the songs of friendship when she had no visible friend. She was the only girl who was never invited to the birthday parties and was always left with her teachers at the school picnic. Not that any of this bothered her. To her these people were just strangers, the passer-byes who would exit her life after 2 years.
Even her parents thought there was something wrong with her. They would comfort her and arrange sleep overs for her, wishing that eventually she would connect with the world. But what they couldn’t fathom was her reason of solitude. They couldn’t penetrate her mind and understand her true fears. They denied medical help and thought that she was too little to be surrounded by doctors.
Hope was infamous in her age group and was called by many names – the silent speaker, the solitary thinker but the one she thought most suited her was the “little misfit”. Wasn’t she the one? Indeed she was. The one misfit to live in this generic world. She was misfit for all the blanket talks, the pointless competition and the crazy hobby classes. She was beyond all this. Her world was created exclusively for her and Mr. Purple. Ms. Little Misfit was fit for the visionary world. She was the beauty which the world was misfit to conceive. Hope was the best fit for her Utopian universe where the love and care was not dependent on transient human bonds but was created by one for oneself with strong faith and loyalty.