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Milan Kaushik, huh! The name etched into my memory as though carved with the strongest ink in the world. After an hour of tossing and turning in my bed, I glanced at the ticking clock. It struck 1 in the night, with pitch-black darkness outside. The only audible sounds were the whir of the fan and my racing heartbeat. Her thoughts dominated my mind; I wondered if she, too, thought about me.
Two years in this town, yet I never saw her before. How did I miss that chance? It's not as if this town is vast; people are easily noticeable, especially in this area. Perhaps she was visiting a relative, endless possibilities. Nevertheless, I should try to get some sleep now; my father won't spare me for the morning run.
I woke up with dry eyes; the night spared me little sleep. After freshening up, I hurried out of my room. It was already 6:15 AM, meaning five extra rounds of the ground were already checked off in my mind.
"I hope you understand the consequences, young man." The authoritative voice echoed, making me stiff in the hallway. "Good morning, Dad. Five extra rounds it is." I politely nodded, observing the man well-dressed in his running attire.
"Good for you. Let's get going." He marched outside, with me timidly following.
"Didn't you get enough sleep?" He inhaled deeply, sitting on the bench after a 12Km run.
"No, I'm fine." I could barely catch my breath but managed to utter.
"Then five rounds won't affect you much." I wasn't surprised; he's a great father, but above all, a man of discipline.
"Young man, discipline is what shapes an officer and makes an officer. Your army blood should reflect in your actions. Son of Lt Colonel Vikram Dhimaan should never lag behind. You'll be an officer one day. In the army, it's said an officer is not someone who acts like one but proves to be one." He patted my back, his facial muscles stretching into a small smile.
"I'll get going." Acknowledging his words, I had my five extra rounds of punishment. Being an Army brat, discipline has been my routine. I belong to a family that served generations in the Army. My grandfather fought in the war of independence, my father serves in the army, and I'm expected to do the same. Throughout life, I shifted cities from state to state. Stability is the last thing the Army would give you.
After a cold bath to soothe my body cramps, I got dressed for school: a crisply ironed white shirt and blue pants. My hair brushed into a sleek side partition. Tying one shoe lace, I applied some shoe polish to the other for that perfect shine. Ready, I walked to the dining table set for four.
"Good morning, Mom." Pulling out a chair, I settled beside my father and across from my mother.
"Good morning, son." She passed the butter tray to me while I plated toasted bread. Spreading some on each slice, I began feasting on my breakfast. My father, dressed in his uniform, ate with decorum.
"Thank you for breakfast, darling." He rested his knife and fork, rising from his seat. Sweetly pecking my mother's cheek, he turned to me. "I am waiting outside." I nodded and finished my glass of juice.
"Bye, Mom. Take care." Pecking her cheek again, I rushed to fetch my bag from my room. My father adores my mother, and rightfully so. She sacrificed her dreams to be with him. They have an inspiring love story.
He dropped me before the school gate. I saw Karan waiting for me, checking his watch. "Good morning, Uncle." He greeted my father, who replied with a smile.
"Get going, boys." My father waved us goodbye, and I watched his army jeep drive straight down the road.
"Did you finish the math questions?" Karan's question reminded me of the forgotten homework I had planned to do last evening, but thoughts of a certain someone barely left my mind for me to focus on anything else.
"I forgot." Walking into the classroom, I pulled out my notebook and borrowed his to quickly scribble down the questions. The hallway was noisy as usual, with boys running and girls chatting in their groups.
"Getting lazy, young man." Karan chuckled, mimicking my father's voice. I shook my head, focusing on the questions until the peon struck the metal plate with his hammer, ringing the prayer bell. I walked out of the classroom as everyone gathered on the stage. I stood on the stage beside the head teacher, waiting for the crowd of students to settle into uniform lines.
"Vidyarthi Saavdhan."
"Vishraam."
"Saavdhan."
"Sabhi vidyarthi Pavamana Mantra k liye tyaar ho jaye."
As the head boy of the school, it was my duty to give morning commands in the assembly. The morning prayer was followed by the Thought of the Day, news, and the pledge, ending with the national anthem. As the assembly dispersed, everyone started walking toward their respective classes, while the headmaster held me back to discuss the NCC camp schedules.
I walked toward my classroom, 10 A, through the quiet corridors. Teachers were marking the daily attendance, and momentary 'yes, madam' could be heard. Standing at the door to ask for permission to enter, my eyes fell on her. What is she doing here?
She was dressed in the KV uniform, wearing a white inner shirt with a blue oversuit paired with a white dupatta pinned on her shoulders. Her hair weren't confined by the hairband like the other day but neatly made in two small braids that barely reached her shoulders. They had white ribbons tied at the end, yet she still looked like the prettiest girl I had ever seen. Her lips stretched into a small smile, making mine form a wide one. My trance was broken when the whole class burst into laughter.
"Andar aajiye head boy sahab, ab aapko written invitation dena padega?" My teacher looked at me with amusing eyes while the whole class witnessed the moment of my embarrassment. I politely apologized, stealing glances at her, and walked to my desk to sit beside Karan.
"Saanp soong gya tha kya?" Karan laughed, but I ignored him, only to see her standing beside the teacher with her bag hanging on her back.
"So where was I?" The teacher asked, and the whole class answered in unison.
"Milan Kaushik." The teacher laughed while I could see her getting nervous under the eyes of every student in the room.
"Haan, toh. Milan Kaushik is a transfer student. Inke papa ki transfer haal hi Mai huyi hai or inki tenth resume yahi se hogi. I hope mai aap sab se expect kar sakti hun k aap Milan ki help kroge syllabus cover up karne mai." So, she is also an army brat like me. That explains her transfer here. She walked slightly to slip onto the firstbench beside Prachi. The teacher went on with the class while I tried to digest the feeling that this girl is going to be in the same class as me.
After the class, while I was busy completing my math homework, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I lifted my eyes to meet her amber ones.
"Hi..." She spoke softly, and I gulped the unknown lump formed in my throat.
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