"Hope makes the world better and the heart bitter."
🎶 Aise kyun (ghazal version)
She could feel his minted breath fanning on her cheeks. Just a bit closer and they would touch in a way they had never before. The thought enticed her.
"Dev," she whispered, her voice unwilfully husky.
"Meera-"
"Left leg goes with right hand and right leg with left hand. Understood?"
Meera came back to her senses as her teacher's stern voice pierced through her ears.
The melodious tinkling of the ghungroos and the rhythmic slaps of feet against the granite floor to the tune of classical music reverberated around the empty room save two people. The song tempting her to indulge in her fantasies.
Light drizzled through the floor to ceiling glass panels and illuminated her steps as Meera whirled around the span of the entire room with her body swaying to the beats and hands splayed in an expressive gesture.
Her face glistened in perspiration, dampening her elaborate attire, her feet had started to blister and tiredness seeped into her bones but she persevered, never faltering. But just before she could take her final spin the music paused causing her to stumble mid- step, snapping her out of her Zen mood.
Her instructor with her thinning grey hair ticked in a tied bun and thick black glasses perched on her nose wore her sternness like a garb over her wrinkled persona and tsked away unsatisfied.
Meera sagged under the weight of her instructor's heavy, disgruntled gaze and waited for the criticisms. It wasn't long before the condemnation began.
"Do you even pay attention to my instructions?" It was a rhetorical question and Meera kept mum. She had no idea where she went wrong because the instructions had been changed so many times throughout the course of six months that at this point she was just going with her instincts.
"It's left leg and left hand, right leg and right hand. Not the opposites."
"But-" Meera broke off her protest knowing it would only lead to an argument. It was a task in itself to keep her patience. She was sure that her dance teacher was just editing moves to spite her. Either that or she had a very short term memory.
"But nothing. Your posture is average at best but your steps are un- coordinated and absolutely abysmal. However are you going to qualify for this competition, I wonder."
"I'm trying."
Meera was not having a good day and her energy had completely depleted after being on her feet for close to two hours under a bad tempered pedagogue when she could've been in the school's greenhouse in the relaxing company of the plants. She missed her previous teacher who was on a maternity leave.
"Try harder. We'll go again and this time pay attention to what I say."
Meera held back her tears of frustration. She could feel the force of headache barreling towards due to the song blasting through the twin speakers kept on the nearby table hitting all the high notes as she was again commanded to dance at will like a puppet on strings.
At last, after an excruciating half hour as she grew clumsier and light headed, she was taken pitied on and was released from the torturous ordeal for lunch.
Tottering her way to the crowded cafeteria she searched for an empty chair to sit on but amongst the groups of students entering in waves, all the tables were claimed. One glance at the long queue at the food counter dashed her plans of getting something to eat.
Sighing she looked around in dismay when she spotted a familiar freckled face with a mass of curly chestnut hair waving at her from a distance. She sluggishly made her way to him and collapsed on the uncomfortable plastic chair that creaked under her weight.
Sameer passed her the glass of water as she chugged it down to moisten her parched throat.
"That bad, huh?" He asked sympathetically.
"She hates me." Meera groaned putting her forehead on the cold granite table.
"You should quit if you aren't enjoying it anymore."
It was only reasonable since dancing wasn't something Meera was very fond of. She had come close to quitting several times but the proud look of her parents every time she performed kept her from going through. She didn't want to disappoint them, especially her father.
Meera pursed her lips. "Raichands don't quit."
A thin smile laced on Sameer's lips. He had, of course heard this dialogue several times from different members of his family. "Ah, Bade Papa's favourite line." (Paternal Uncle; father's elder brother)
Meera hummed and then asked noticing the vacant space in front of her, "Where is Ahana?"
"She is-" He paused and looked behind her and smirked. "Speak of the devil and she shall appear."
Meera turned around as a fiery red head beelined towards them and plopped down next to Sameer after clapping his back- hard, that he sputtered his drink. "Devil's a 'he', knucklehead. But good to know you all missed me in my absence."
Sameer glared at her when she stole a handful of fries from his plate and munched on them along with her strong coffee. Meera saw him visible grimace at the combination. He was very meticulous about what food to pair with each other while on the other hand, Ahana had no problem mixing things up, even if the end result was downright disgusting.
"I'm thinking of dyeing my hair electric blue," Ahana announced.
This time Meera couldn't help but gawk incredulously. She was trying to find a polite way of telling her red head friend what a bad fashion choice it was but Sameer beat her to it. Keeping a straight face, he said ever so seriously, "Are you trying to make yourself look more hideous? You are natural at it."
Meera rolled her eyes. "Aren't those red highlights enough?" Three months ago Ahana had made a spontaneous choice to get red highlights which suited her just fine, unlike blue.
"They didn't accomplish the job they were intended for." Ahana puckered her lips and sulked. "I'm hoping my blue hair will be enough of a shock to render my dear mother speechless for life and for my parents to give up on trying to convert me into their version of a perfect daughter."
Meera shook her head at the absurdity but could understand her friend's plight.
Ahana, like herself came from a business family. Her father was a successful investment banker and her mother was the perfect definition of a socialite whose prim and proper personality clashed with her daughter's devil may care attitude. .
She shoved another mouthful of fries, this time Sameer didn't slap her hand away, and continued. "It's getting worse. Last night dad came home to gather his stuff but mom was present. The fight that ensued lasted hours until a neighbour intervened. They broke three vases!"
Meera took a sweep across the room at Ahana's slightly raised tone. She didn't want any eavesdroppers. This was none of their business. "Where was your brother?"
Ahana had been stuck between her parent's messy divorce battle which was admittedly taking a toll on her. The red highlighted hair and mismatched hipster look were Ahana's small acts of rebellion against her family to keep her identity separate from the existing status quo. Her brother was her only shield between her and their parents' wrath against Ahana's defiance of the family name and their social standing.
"He was out with his friends before he left for his final year of college. Fights were bad enough when they were together but now with hate added to the mixer they have passed all levels of rationality. And I have to deal with two crazy individuals who don't even care if their kids are present to hurl abuses at each other."
Meera didn't know what to say except to let Ahana know that she was there. "You know you can come over to my house anytime, right?" Ahana nodded gulping her coffee in one go. It was a strong one, too bitter just what she needed. "It will get better."
Meera had known Ahana for only six months now when Ahana joined the school last summer and for four months as her friend but they had become close rather quickly and now she could safely say that she had another best friend apart from her cousin.
"Doubt it. And they say love lasts. Bullshit!" Ahana scoffed angrily.
Sameer and Meera looked at one another. "Well-" Meera started but Sameer touched her arm, stopping her from saying anything . He knew Ahana longer than Meera had, with their fathers being friends and understood her situation better.
"Here." Sameer offered Ahana his cup of coffee too once she finished hers. That was his way of showing care. They had a unique friendship. Half the time they were at each other's throat like sworn enemies but when reverted back to being friends when the situation called for.
Meera got up. "I'm going to get myself something to eat," she said.
"Bring more coffee." Meera looked down at her friend who had already started bouncing her legs.
"You're not having anymore." Meera gave Ahana a pointed look and took away her cup before Ahana could get a refill.
"And more fries." Sameer called out, still eyeing Ahana's hand trying to get to the final one.
Meera tapped her feet as the line moved forward at a snail's speed. She kept glancing at her watch to check the time. There were just 30 minutes left to the break and she was still behind ten people. At this rate she'd be left hungry for the entire day. She cursed herself for skipping breakfast.
Stupid Dev and his stupid silent treatment.
At last she got her order. It was hard balancing the full plate while trying to shove an entire sandwich in her little mouth lest the bell rang. But in doing so, she wasn't mindful of her surroundings and collided into a wall- hard.
"Oomph!" A gasp escaped her mouth full of bread crumbs.
"Careful." An unknown voice heavily laced with an exotic accent that were foreign to her reached her ears.
Meera opened her eyes to see a boy, almost a foot taller than her with pale skin and gelled back dirty blond hair looking at her with the same look of surprise and obscurity in his forest green eyes that she reflected in her own. The school sapphire blue uniform (courtesy to the school name); white shirt, blue blazer and dress pants clung onto his muscular built perfectly.
He was appealing to look at with his boyish looks and foreign charm and Meera found herself staring at the adventitious stranger for a moment longer than necessary. He seemed to be enjoying the attention.
"Bonjour, belle." He tilted his head lightly with a playful smirk and paired with the french greeting in his husky voice, he was irresistible- to others. (Hello, beautiful)
Meera knew the basics to understand the sentence and blushed at the unsolicited attention on her. "Hello," she replied in softly and then in an audible voice said, "I'm so sorry for dashing into you."
"C'est mon jour de chance," he responded fluidly in his mother tongue which sounded like gibberish to her but hoped that it was something good. From the tone of it, he didn't sound angry, rather coquettish. (It's my lucky day.)
When she looked puzzled he switched to english, a common language for both, though his was heavily accented and a little difficult to understand. "Allow me to properly introduce myself. The name's Logan; Logan Yves Laurent."
He forwarded a hand and she took it introducing herself, "Meera Raichand."
"Meera- c'est un joli nom. Very pleased to make your acquaintance." He held up her hand and touched the back to his lips only briefly before she removed it as fast as possible, blushing, tucking a lone strand of her hair behind her ear nervously. (A beautiful name.)
Through in a corner, she could feel the heated glares of the females around her and the curious gaze of the of the males.
"So-" She shifted slightly on her feet. "I've never seen you around before."
"I'm a transfer student. Came just yesterday and landed right into the arms of an angel." She was certain that he was flirting with her and it was making her uncomfortable. He was handsome, no doubt but she had her heart set on someone else, everyone else paled in comparison.
Before she could think of an appropriate reply to that, the bell rang, ending the recess. She was literally saved by the bell and sighed inwardly.
"I have to go, " she said and smiled shyly. "It was nice meeting you. Have a great day!"
She turned on her heels but heard him murmur behind, "Je suis sûr que je vais maintenant." She did not need to know french to understand what he meant. (I am sure I will, now.)
When she was at a distance, she allowed herself to grin bashfully, feeling jittery.
Her first experience of someone flirting with her.
And though she knew it was harmless and didn't mean anything from her side, it was still exhilarating.
And just because her heart belonged to someone else didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy this.
Right?
************************
Meera was bored out of her mind, sitting in the class she hated the most.
Accounts.
The bane of her existence. One week into the new year and she was already hating the subject.
Not because it was tough but because she had absolutely no interest studying it.
Even though hailing from one of the major business families, Meera had quickly realised that she had no aptitude for it. But when her father had suggested that she take a few business courses, she couldn't say no.
But fifteen minutes into the class and Meera knew it wasn't meant for her. All the numbers and calculations that she simply wasn't interested in. And the teacher too wasn't helping.
Mrs. Raheja went on and on about some entries, in her uninterested, monotonous tone, just reading from the book. From the looks of it, half of the class was already dead.
At last giving up, she turned her attention to the world outside the glass panel and stared onto the wide spread of trees in the forest behind their school, forming a canopy. The new leaves announced the onset of spring as they sparkled under the dazzling sun.
Calming shades of green soothed her tired eyes and soon she was lost inside her head.
They were in his kitchen. Dev was standing in front of her.
"You have some cream on face," he said and before she could wipe it off, he reached forward. "Here, let me."
His rough thumb touched the corner of her lips. Silver clashed with black as he inched closer until he was leaning over the counter that separated them, leaving only a hairbreadth of distance between them.
She could feel his hot breath caressing her skin. If she tilted her head slightly, they would touch in ways they never had. It tempted her to go on.
"Meera." Her name had never sounded more beautiful than when they rolled off his tongue.
His eyes traced their way to her lips and she tipped her chin letting them meet his in the softest of kis-
"Meera, are you listening?" Ahana called out, breaking through her daydream.
Meera blinked, coming out of her trance and moved away from the window.
"Huh?"
She fought hard to keep the redness at bay. She really needed to stop her mind from wandering into dangerous territories of unfulfilled desires in the broad daylight. Those were for her nights only.
"I asked who was that boy you were talking to in the cafeteria? I've never seen him before."
"Logan Yves," she replied only vaguely into this conversation, "he is an exchange student from France,"
Ahana sighed, "No wonder he looked so hot. Even his name sounds sexy."
"He was fine," Meera admitted. But though he might be good looking, she fancied someone else and Lucien had nothing on him. "But my eyes are set on someone else," she mumbled.
"What?"
"Nothing." She hadn't told Ahana or Sameer about Dev yet.
At first it was because she was having a hard time coming to terms with this new, intense feeling. But slowly as it became definite, carved on the walls of her heart ordered to permanency, she realised that she didn't want to share it with anyone.
It was too precious and private to be disclosed to anyone before she could tell Dev. And since that wasn't happening anytime soon, she preferred to keep this secret close to her heart.
*******************
Family that ate together, stayed together.
Five members were seated in the family dining room at the long table with eight chairs underneath a bright crystal chandelier. The table was set with delicacies prepared by the chef. Bereft of any gadgets or distractions the room was filled with the light conversations among them.
The Raichand family always made it a point to have dinner together unless they were in different cities. It was one of the few rules strictly enforced by the head of the family aka the matriarch- Adira Raichand who strongly believed in that philosophy.
Meera admired her mother's commitment to the family above everything even while working full time as a business consultant in Raichand Industries.
Ayaansh was talking about some project he was doing as a first year Computer Science student. Then Alvira chimed in, narrating some funny instead that happened in school. All the while Meera was silently eating until Ayaansh said, "We are having a fest this Friday through Sunday so I'll be busy this weekend."
Meera looked up abruptly. "But I have my dance competition on Friday," she asked turning to her parents as well.
"And I care about that because?" Ayaansh questioned.
Won't you come? She wanted to ask. It was an important event for her and she expected her family to be there.
"I remember. Of course, we'll all come." Her mother assured her but her father looked doubtful.
"It's this Friday?" He asked to which Meera nodded, frowning. "Your grandparents are coming that day."
"We can send a car for them." Her mother suggested.
"You know how it is." Kabir sent her a knowing look. "What is the duration of this program?"
"From three in the noon to six."
"I'll try to make it, promise." Her father looked apologetic and tried to assure her but she brooded looking glum. This performance could very well be her last one and she was looking forward to her parents being there with her. But he did promise that he'd try and she desperately held onto that for now.
"Okay," she said dully but there was still hope in her eyes that did not fade as she looked at her papa. "Try." Try not to break your promise. He nodded. He would come. He would. She trusted him.
"I can't come, but." Alvira pouted. "Maybe if I can skip school-" she looked at her mother with expectant eyes but one pointed look was enough to crush it. "-to support di."
"Not happening." Then Adira turned to her brother. "Ayaansh?"
He looked up and them shook his head. "Oh no. I'm not missing the first day of fest."
"It's just one day!" Meera exclaimed, indignant.
"It's just one competition." He retorted back and Meera scowled at his dismal. It hurt. She recalled how he had once skipped his football match because Dev had broken his leg and couldn't play or the time he didn't go on the excursion to Hydrabad because Dev couldn't. But when it came to them- his family and especially her, that's where he drew the line. God forbid he did something nice for her, for once.
She couldn't control her out burst then, her cheeks red with hurt and anger that they did not care enough. "Fine! Don't come. I don't want any of you there."
She pushed her chair back harshly and got up. Her mother tried to stop her but she stormed off without listening to a word- not of her father trying to find a solution to the problem or her mother reprimanding Ayaansh for upsetting her.
Not even of him agreeing at last.
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Hey guys!!
Another update🎉 I'm back on schedule!!
First I wanted to share a good news with you all🤭
I got my 12th results day on Friday and I passed with 96%🥳 I am officially a 12th pass!!!
Back to the chapter..
What are your thoughts on Ahana and Sameer?
Ayaansh and Meera's relationship?
And the new guy? French one at that🌝
Do you think Meera is developing a crush on him🙃 then what about Dev??☹️
And Meera's outburst, was it justified or an overreaction?
Do comment I'll love to hear your views❤️
Next chapter we'll see some new characters so stay tuned ✨
Next update on- 31/7/2022