Love, Tonya

In 2003, Shelley Jackson wrote a 2000 word story called 'SKIN', and each word of the story was tattooed on the skin of 2000 volunteers who carry with them a part of the story (one word and possibly a punctuation mark, to be precise). This was the only format that the story existed in- it could never be assembled and read, but maybe that is why it is so beautiful. Even if one person died, the story would remain incomplete forever, but the 1999 others who are alive, embody a part of the fallen soldier.

I remember growing up, I often had a strong desire to escape reality. I would create fascinating content in my mind, or lose myself in movies and books. As a 10-year-old, I was reading books by Enid Blyton, Meg Cabot, and Rick Riordan. I had a small collection of books at home, and I reread some of them so many times, I'm pretty sure I knew the lines by heart.

One evening, when my mum came home from work, in her handbag I saw a book. It had a picture of a girl in overalls, clutching a book. The title read, 'A Walk to Remember'. I put the book back in her bag.

But soon, I started seeing the book everywhere, and in psychology it is called the 'mere exposure effect'. It happens when people are exposed to certain stimuli. However brief or fleeting it might be, especially when repeated, a sense of familiarity develops, and this leads to them liking it. This is often how ads work.

One day, I developed just enough liking to the book to open it to the title page, and it reads "Its happening! Love, Tonya". My mum and I, we didn't know who Tonya was - the book was a gift to W that my mum borrowed to read.

I started reading. I was reading that whole Sunday. I woke up at 5 am to read the book before school started. Once I hit the climax, I hugged my mum and I sobbed. I cried for fictional characters from someone else's imagination. That is when I realised just how powerful words can be, when delivered at the right time, right way and in the right combination.

I eventually met the owner of the book.

"Hi Niv, I am W."

He let me keep the book. It meant a lot to me, and he could see it.

Since then, I moved countries, and unfortunately, I lost the book. For many years, I was upset about it. I bought two used copies of the same edition from eBay (buying them as if I was going to magically find the same one I lost). I would tell W about how much I missed my book and everything about it. I missed the slightly browned pages, my tear stains, and I missed Tonya. W told me he would get my copy signed by Nicholas Sparks (the author).

"A lot of people have Nicholas Sparks signed copies of the book, how many people have Tonya's?"

A decade later, W and I dropped a friend at the airport and he took me to a restaurant. I walked in and there was a lady waiting for us there. I was waiting for the introduction and W began filming on his phone. I was confused.

"Niv, meet Tonya."

I kept repeating how I was a big fan of her work. Poor Tonya had no idea who I was.

This story is proof that we touch people's lives in ways that we aren't aware of, and they carry pieces of us for years like I did for Tonya (and Nicholas Sparks, of course). Maybe the way you laughed in the tube station with your friends made someone reconnect with an old friend, maybe you let someone cut in front of you in the motorway and saved their job, maybe the person you say hi to every morning on your walk, wakes up ten minutes earlier than they need to, just to say hi back. Maybe.

It took a decade, but Tonya finally signed my book again - "It's happening! Love, Tonya". What is happening, you ask?

Life.