The Snarky Indian

Part 7: I have to dance?

It was 7 p.m. So, around 8-8:30 in India? Good. I excused myself from the group and gave my parents a phone call, they'd be awake at this time. Hell, my mother gets up at 4 a.m to go some yoga. It's healthy, apparently. That lady sure reads a LOT of magazines. Ironically, the same magazine containing tips to stay healthy also has recipes for yummy unhealthy food. That's India for you.

The phone rang four time before my mother picked up. "Good morning, how are you?" She asked, already wide awake and possibly watching some sitcom. My mother was cool like that, she gave up on Indian television and switched to American sitcoms. They made a hell lot more sense than the Indian ones. For example, a very famous meme in India showed a comparison between Sherlock Holmes and C.I.D, two crime investigation related series. In the Sherlock series, Benedict Cumberbatch *swoon* held a blood encrusted phone and had speech bubbles saying stuff like 'blood on the phone', 'victim was on a call?', 'killer was the caller?' and so on. On the other hand, C.I.D series main guy, with a blood encrusted phone in his hand, goes, "Daya! *gasp* This is a phone!" So yeah, you get the point.

I took a deep breath and in my most sickly voice, said, "It's evening here, Amma. Around 7pm." My mother just ignored that, with concern in her tone, she asked, "Are you alright? You sound sick."

Yep, I was a master. Four years of experience with different tones does that to you.

"No no," I replied, "I'm just tired. I did a lot of unpacking today. And I might get a cold or something pretty soon. My throat is kinda sore and I've been getting slight headaches." "Oh ok ok, go rest. I don't want you to bunk your first day on Monday, okay?" She said sternly. I agreed with some well-practised hesitation, "Yeah ok Amma." "Ana, go sleep. Now." She said, with finality in her tone. I sighed dramatically, "Ookaaaay Amma. Chill. I will." I also added a very slight amount of irritation. She seemed satisfied with my reply, "Okay. Go sleep. When you get up, text me. I'll make sure your father teaches me how to use that what app thing." I laughed, "Its WhatsApp." "Eno ondu (Whatever)." She said dissmissively, "Now go. Bye. And take care, take those tablets if you still have a headache. And drink warm milk." I rolled my eyes, thanking my lucky stars that she fell for it. There had been times when she suspected that I was bluffing. Okay, I generally suck at lying, so I got caught whenever I did lie (sometimes when I didn't lie as well, go figure). I was actually kind of surprised that I pulled it off. "Okay, Amma. Bye. You guys take care too." I ended the call, satisfied that my parents wouldn't call me up while clubbing. I doubt I could come up with an excuse if they heard loud music and screaming.

Suddenly, I heard an amused snort. I turned to find myself face to face with a chest.

A broad one. I squashed my grin and kept my face straight.

Jeez! Sometimes my mind is a running pornographic film.

I slowly looked up, dreading who I was going to face. It was Abhi, and for a moment I calmed down.

Wait, is it Aryan? My dread escalated.

UGH! It's possible to differentiate between the two! Maybe I should get them dog tags for their birthday, it would help a lot.

He was still staring at me with amusement in his eyes.

His eyes. So green! *sigh*

I had no wish to face Aryan. I guess I'm being a stubborn child, but it was still embarrasing. I suppose I'm over-reacting, but I've always tried to be the silent by-stander. Key-word 'tried'. I've never really managed to be invisible. I might act all high and mighty but inside I guess I'm just scared. Of what? I have no clue. I just wanted not to be noticed, that way no one says anything about me.

I veered in my emotions and presented a straight, indifferent face to him. For extra effect, I nonchalantly raised my eyebrows.

He just smiled and shook his head. Hmmm. Maybe it is Abhi. Then he spoke.