Blue Side Of The Sky

C H A P T E R - 0 2

I'm an asshole. I'm going to continue being an asshole. Because I'm a fucking asshole and that's what we assholes do. So what were you saying? again...

(Aryan's life national anthem)

⁕ 𝖠𝗋𝗒𝖺𝗇 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗎𝗋 ⁕

The mischievous sun stole one last kiss from the clouds before bidding it farewell until the morrow. A promise hung in the air, an unspoken pact that they would share another passionate kiss at dawn. 

The clouds couldn't stop blushing, its once ivory face now adorned with hues of delicate pink, as it watched its lover descending and disappearing into the horizon, lost in the depths of their boundless love affair.

"I think we should call it quits," I politely mentioned, still holding her hand as I sat on my parked bike near the church. "We both know we're not the forever types and sooner or later, we'd be splitting up. So, instead of dragging this out for months or years, and making it even harder when it eventually ends, why don't we just cut our losses now?"

That was my classic breakup line, tried and true after years of dating. And it had a perfect track record. Can't blame me for efficiency, right?

I met Jia just last month when I was in Delhi, helping Lavanya move into her new rented flat. She couldn't take her eyes off me while Lav and I were scarfing down street food. So, of course, I did what I do best - made my move, flirted a bit, and like clockwork, this girl also fell for my quick wit and cheeky grin.

But now, well, I was just plain bored. And, let's be real, it was time to wrap this up. See, I had this rule: never let a relationship go past the four-week mark. It was time to pull the plug, and I was sticking to my code.

"Oh, Aryan! You're so mature," she gushed, clearly overwhelmed by my words. "I don't even know what to say. I think you're absolutely right. Instead of dragging this out for months and then breaking up and hurting both of us, it's better to end it now. But... can I... can I steal one last kiss from you?" She stammered, her innocence making it hard to resist.

How could I resist those pleading eyes? So, I granted her wish. After our goodbye kiss, we whispered our farewells and went our separate ways, another chapter of romance closed in Aryan Chronicles.

●○●

I turned off the bike's engine, parked it in front of Vihan's swanky apartment - his Delhi haven for work visits - and pulled out the spare keys he had given me.

Checking my phone, I noted that it was already 9:37 p.m., so I briskly climbed up to the third floor.

After entering the apartment and locking the door, I fished my phone from the back pocket of my jeans to check who was blowing up it.

"Where the hell are you, Aryan? It's been a damn week, and you're still playing hide and seek with your family. Are you allergic to doing what we tell you, or do you just enjoy being the rebel?"

I wasn't in the mood for another round of my father's lectures, but I couldn't just cut the call, so I switched my phone to loudspeaker mode and propped it on the bathroom shelf as I headed for a shower before crashing for the night.

"Are you even hearing a word I'm saying?" I unmuted the call while slipping into my nightwear - a simple white T-shirt and gray shorts.

I let out a long sigh before responding, "I'll be back on Sunday. I've got some important stuff going on here. So calm down dad."

"What kind of 'important stuff' can a high school dropout possibly have in Delhi?" My father's irritation was loud and clear through the speakers, forcing me to move the phone away from my ears.

I was never the studious type - not even close. Nope, I proudly claimed my spot as the resident backbencher, the class clown with a knack for cracking jokes about teachers and tossing snarky comments during their oh-so-serious lectures.

Getting reprimanded for my classroom antics became a regular ritual, and my parents must have grown weary of attending those principal-parent powwows where they had to endure a litany of complaints about their troublemaker offspring.

Of course, my parents had this habit of holding my elder brother - Gaurav Thakur, up as the shining example, the golden boy of academia - intelligent, composed, and teacher's pet material. But here's the kicker: I didn't particularly fancy my brother.

We were polar opposites. He chased teachers for grades; I chased them to drop snarky comments. Girls swooned over him because he was the brainy type; I chased girls because, well, that was the one thing I excelled at.

He was my arch-nemesis, my competition of a lifetime.

My parents, especially my father, couldn't stop singing his praises and wore his accomplishments like badges of honor.

Can't blame them, really; my brother fulfilled my old man's dream of joining the Indian army, keeping the family's hallowed tradition alive.

My family had this grand legacy in the army. My great-grandfather battled it out in the Indo-China war of 1962, followed by my grandfather's stint in the 1971 Indo-Pakistani War, and then my father's heroic deeds in the 1999 Kargil clash.

Naturally, dear old dad had dreams of me continuing this illustrious lineage. But me? I had different aspirations, a burning desire to break away from the shackles of tradition and carve my own path. It caused quite a few fireworks in the family, let me tell you.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes in response to my father's incessant lecture. "Dad, we've been over this. I'm done with the whole college thing. We talked about it already."

I was already 21 years old, and I bet you're thinking that at this age, I should have had an undergraduate degree under my belt.

But, you see, I suck at academics - like, epically suck. I flunked thrice during my school years, first in eighth grade, second during my tenth board exams, and then again in the eleventh grade.

Vihan was my classmate. He graduated while I lingered behind, trying to figure out where I fit in a world that seemed hell-bent on testing my patience.

It was Aparna and Lavanya with whom I crossed the finish line of senior high school. They were three years junior to me, but they pretty much carried me through.

Now, if I had enrolled in college, it would have been another three years down the drain, with no guarantee of landing a job at the end of it all. Let's be real - who'd hire a guy who knows zilch about his supposed field of expertise?

I mean, I passed exams only because Aparna discreetly handed over her answer sheets so I could copy her answers. Our roll numbers were consecutive thanks to our matching alphabetical names.

I was still grappling with life's grand purpose, but one thing was clear - the army was not even close on my radar, for sure.

Discipline and I weren't the best of pals, and the regimented lifestyle wasn't my cup of tea.

But I had dreams and ambitions, and they required funding that my father, ever the staunch traditionalist, would never provide.

I needed a money-making scheme. Maybe charming a well-heeled young lady was the answer?

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Happy reading🌸∽ Love, Nisha