The shopping bag was quiet heavy as Khusi dragged it down the the wide ridge road of Shimla, after doing some grocery shopping. It was Sunday, and it was needed for her to come out of her cave for some outdoor chores.
Most of the cardboard boxes were still sitting opened in a corner of the room. Khusi had only emptied those boxes and taken out those products which she needed on a daily basis.
Even though engulfed in snow during the early April, the famous Mall road along the ridge was buzzing with tourists, most of them either young group of friends or couples.
The town was indeed serene when someone really wanted to enjoy it's beauty. But even the Taj Mahal wouldn't have made Khusi gaze at it with wonder, with the current situation she was in.
A newbie in the town, with practically no friends, living on her own for the first time, doing everything alone. She felt lonely and lost ... without a purpose to move forward.
But she was helpless. The day she walked out of Bangalore, she took an oath. To never be in contact with anyone from her past life. No one, not even her parents or her best friend. They didn't understand her. Nobody did.
Khusi didn't hate the icy chilliness of the town anymore. Atleast the hoodie, scarfs and beanies kept her face and the occasional tears covered. It was the people that she was heavily starting to dislike. They were rude and mean, almost everyone. Her colleagues had their own group, cause they were locals.
Last week when she attended the parents teachers meeting, the guardians were crude to her, bestowing her with cruel words about her insufficiency. No one questioned how their children were.
The only woman who had been kind to her was the head mistress of the school, Miss Archana Goenka. She was a humble lady, unmarried, in her late 40s. When Khusi complained to her about the students behaviours and what they said, she made them personally apologize to Khusi.
Sighing tiredly, Khusi tightened her grip on the bag, almost about to round the corner when a few shrieks caught her attention. She swiftly glanced back to see 3 teenage girls whispering, peering at Khusi every other second.
A suspicion creeped up in Khusi's head. Scaring the consequences, she was just about to dash away when the girls ran toward Khusi, a wide beam plastered on their face.
"Oh my god! Aren't you Khusi Goswami?"
"We've been following you on Instagram for so long!" One of them took out her phone.
"Why are you doing in Shimla? Are you here on your second honeymoon?"
"Really!? Wow! That's so cool. But where's your husband? What was his name? Yeah Bhaskar ... " They giggled.
Khusi's heartbeat accelerated as their voices echoed around her, her breaths coming out in pants. She didn't know what to say or how to say what tragedy had taken place in her life. She was embarrassed of the perfect image she had created on her social media.
"Why haven't you posted anything in the last 2 months? And what about your last post? The orphanage picture you shared? You were about to adopt a baby, right?" One of the girls enquired, her eyes eager.
It was that very moment when Khusi lost it. Her knees wobbled as sweat tittered down her forehead even though cold breeze was blowing. Her ears pinged and her vision turned blurry, the shopping bag falling down on the road with a thud, as Khusi sank down on the ground.
Covering her ears, she howled out, "Leave me alone!"
*******
Miss Archana rubbed her temple, as she tried to keep her palpitations at bay. The man from the other side of the phone was giving her orders to take immediate actions.
"But sir, there's no one here whom we could send there."
"I don't want excuses Miss. Goenka. Find me a new one within 2 weeks or else say goodbye to your chair."
The line went dead as Miss. Goenka exhaled a broken breath, her nerves chaotic. How was she supposed to find a new teacher for the primary section within 14 days?
"Everything okay ma'am?" One of her staff poke her head in, a paper in her hand, clipped to a metal board.
"No Smriti. Mr. Joshi called from Chamba. Remember what I told you last week?"
Smriti nodded. "Yes. They need a new teacher for the primary section in Chamba."
"Yes, I can't send anyone from here. We're already tight on staff. And well now he is threatening me."
A smirk made it's way up Smriti's face as she recalled someone. "But ma'am, we already have someone whom we can send.
Ms. Archana's head shot up, her gaze curious. "Who?"
"Khusi Mukherjee, who else?" She shrugged.
"Smriti, didn't you hear what I say? Primary section. Khusi has been promoted to middle school. Moreover she recently shifted here from Bangalore. We can't send her. And she is quite good at her work."
Smriti snickered at Ms. Archana's statement. "Are you sure ma'am? Cause that's not what the parents were saying last week during the meeting."
"What do you mean?"
Smriti called her friends, which included 5 teachers all in their 20s, Rajeev being one of them. All of them testified Smriti's words about Khusi's incompetency to teach Cls VII and VIII students, which wasn't true. They just didn't want Khusi working with them there.
"I need to talk with a few guardians first."
"Sure. Take your time ma'am. We were just suggesting what was true. In the end it's your call to make." The teachers left, leaving an anxious Archana Goenka behind.
*******
Tears cascaded down Khusi's cheeks as she pulled her knees close to her chest, looking down at her phone screen. After what happened that morning, Khusi decided to open her IG page and Facebook once. She hadn't logged in since the day she left Bangalore, caught up with too many things. But now that she had opened it again, she was regretting her decision.
Countless notifications popped up on her screen, along with numerous messages on her Messenger and Instagram inbox. Messages from her followers, regarding how she was, where she was, and several other things.
She didn't know how to reply back to anyone one of them. Rubbing her sweaty palms on her bedsheet, she fisted it, her fingers dangling over the search box, her heart dying to type the name.
"Last time ..." she swore.
Bhaskar Goswami she typed, licking her lips nervously. She didn't know what was there waiting for her to see. But she wanted to see something. Anything related to the beholder of heart.
Account locked. He had unfollowed her.
A cynical laughter broke out of her throat, echoing in the whole icy room. What was she thinking? When he didn't hesitate to tear apart a legal bond with her, why would he still be following her on IG? How could she be so stupid?
Sniffling, she rubbed the spittle off her nose with her palm, looking up at the ceiling. Miserable, that was what she wanted to call herself. Why couldn't she move on?
This time her fingers didn't shiver as she tapped on the Deactivate account option. Sometimes, it was better to stay disconnected from the rest of the world.
*******
A knock reverberated in the office room as Archana Goenka was going on through some documents. She quickly told the person to come in.
"Ma'am, the parents are here," Ritika informed her, standing aside so that the parents could walk inside. Smriti and two other girls smirked at Ritika from the corner, Ritika winking at them. She had made sure to call the parents whose children who were chided by Khusi for their misbehaviour.
"She has been teaching our children useless things ... "
"She is incompetent ... "
"She doesn't even know how to behave. My son might pick on her crude behaviour and turn like her ... "
"She is arrogant ... "
" She never cleared their doubts. All she cares about is getting done with the class as soon as possible ... "
And countless other complaints echoed in the office room of Miss. Goenka. Her head bowed down in shame, she harkened each and every words spoken against the best teacher she has ever had.
At the end, Miss. Goenka didn't have another choice but to do the inevitable. She couldn't work against the dirty work politics, and wouldn't dare to defy the man who has ordered her directly.
"Yes sir, she'll be there next week."
*******
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