It all started when I was just a wee thing. I was a twin, and times were always rough growing up. There never seemed to be enough food to go around, and my parents could never tell me and my brother apart. His name was Terry and mine was Larry, and eventually we just became known as "TerryLarry." It was frustrating not to have my own identity, especially since I always felt that I was different -- not just from Terry and my parents, but all the other turtles I knew growing up. I used to love designing little legwarmers out of moss and cute hats out of acorn shells. I guess you could say I marched -- slowly -- to my own drumbeat.
One afternoon in May, I decided to take a walk by myself. I was feeling pretty down; I had just applied to design school and had gotten rejected, on account of my being a turtle and all. All of a sudden I heard high pitched screaming from down the path. I started heading away from the sound, thinking it might be a coyote stuck in a hunter's trap or something, but I guess I misjudged the direction because I immediately crossed paths with these hikers. One of them was still screaming -- something about a snake -- and the other two were laughing. I tried to look inconspicuous and head back into the bushes, but I think it must have been fate or something. The screaming man saw me, picked me up, and plopped me into a cup. At first I was terrified, but then I thought, hey -- this could be the opportunity I've been waiting for my whole life. A chance to get away from my brother and my family and start fresh.
After a long drive, we arrived at their apartment. There was some argument about what to do with me, but pretty soon they stuck me in my own little tank and I was living the dream. I imagined Terry, back at home in Marin, and here I was in my own condo in the city! Not to say that there wasn't an adjustment period. My adoptive parents were long on enthusiasm but short on actual know-how. They learned, though, and after a few failed attempts (note to readers: turtles in general do not enjoy truffle-oil cheese) they got to know my likes and dislikes. Along the way they changed my name to Rapture, which I think really suits me better. I felt accepted, and more than that I felt like they showered me with affection and little gifts. God knows where they found these things, but pretty soon I had my own Vespa scooter, hot tub, and Apple laptop. I also had a lot more space to work on my designs, and my new parents were more than happy to buy me a mini sewing machine and to model the outfits I made for them.
The real turning point in my life came when I saw my first Bollywood movie. I felt like something all of a sudden clicked. THIS was where I was meant to be -- designing costumes for Bollywood dance numbers. While my parents were asleep, I'd watch and re-watch scenes from "Om Shanti Om" in slow motion, admiring the sequins and chiffons that swirled through the air. I knew it would be tough, but somehow I had to convince my adoptive parents to let me move to Bombay and try to make it on my own.
It was a tearful scene when I told them my plans, but I think deep down they knew that I couldn't live in their little tank forever. Papa Isael helped me pack my suitcase and Papa Hiroo made me promise I'd call them as soon as I landed.
Say what you will about India, but I never once felt discriminated because I'm a turtle. In fact, I felt like it opened up more doors for me in Bollywood. After only six months of living in some pretty squalid conditions in the slums, I moved in with Karan Johar and became his personal assistant. Pretty soon he gave me a chance to design costumes for one of his films, and the rest, as they say, is history! Papa Hiroo especially is so proud of me, and whenever he and Papa Isael come visit me I tell everyone the story of how they rescued me from my horrid upbringing in the jungles of Marin. Now I'm working on a screenplay about my life and I hope to reach out to my birth parents and Terry -- they won't believe how far I've come.
