-• distraction •-
Taranya
"I teach all types of Indian classical. Which one do you want to learn? Kathak? Bharatnatyam? Lavni -"
"This one," I show her the phone screen.
She takes a look at the video, watches the performance for a fleeting moment and chuckles. "It's semi classical. A fusion of modern contemporary styles with Indian classical. Very popular among you teens."
"Teach me." I whisper. "Please."
Her eyes bore into mine. And I wonder if she sees it. The way I'm dying to liberate myself from the past. It often comes haunting me in the night. Thoughts swarm my head. What-ifs wiggle like snakes, poisoning every shred of optimism around me.
"You don't even know what you want to learn."
"Make my body move so my head stops going places." I request.
"I'm Smriti Shah." She holds out her hand. "Your Guru."
The corners of my lips go up in joy. I eagerly hold her hand. "Thank you."
She nods and pulls away. "Fill out the form at reception and you'll receive your schedule in a week's time. Excuse me. I've a class." She pats my shoulder before walking away.
I clasp my hands to my chest, looking inside the studio room through the transparent walls. My feet move closer, hand glides down the glass. I watch, mesmerized as their limbs move, feet twirl, the music controls them, as if it's the blood flowing through their veins. I can't wait to feel this. I can't wait to lose myself in that calmness. Anger is easy to express. Agastya helps me deal with those raging emotions quiet efficiently in the gym. What remains is the grief, the ripping sadness that stays cooped up, a whirlwind of storm encased in the corner. Permanently home.
"Ma'am?" My head turns. The blonde woman smiles politely at me. "The application," she holds the piece of paper in her hand. I receive it. "You'll need a passport size photo too." She informs me before retreating back to her place behind the desk.
I take seat in the lounge area and grab a pen from my backpack. Putting the form on the tea table in front of me, I fill it meticulously. It takes me a moment to ransack my bag for the photo but I find it. A few minutes later, I'm standing in front of the receptionist, the completed form in my hand.
She takes it from me and glances through the content. A look of satisfaction crosses her eyes and she tilts her head, our gazes lock. "When your admission is confirmed, you'll receive a link to deposit the advance payment. Once we receive the confirmation email, we'll send you the schedule."
"Thank you," I nod.
She smiles back. "Have a great day ahead."
I exit the three storey building. My eyes flicker behind to read the name of the academy.
Nritya Nivas
I was on my way home from the University. Dancing didn't cross my mind after that evening in Veer Mahal when I had prepared dinner with Agastya. It had taken a backseat among all the chaos happening. But today, I stopped at the red light, where I had been stopping for the last one month, and my eyes drifted towards the building, as it always did, and I read the name, one that had been resonating in my head for the last two weeks.
That was all it took. One moment to decide, one moment to damn the consequences and go for it.
I want an escape.
I'm dying to live without an identity, without a story, without a past.
I just want to exist.
And if I can't, I want to exhaust myself to the point my body gives up before my head could even think of picking up the reins. Agastya has been teaching me how to fight. I won't call it self defense. It's not self defense. I'm learning to fight. And every day, in that empty gym, I'm fighting myself. The momentum of the sandbag, the throbbing in my torn knuckles, the aching in my tight muscles, it all serves me the perfect distraction I need for the day. But then we take a day break in between, because he thinks it's not healthy to train daily, and in that one day, I end up thinking of the lifetime.
Nritya Nivas kept circulating in my head for a while. I just didn't have enough confidence to go in there and enroll myself for the class. Not to mention my body has already been tested to its limit, both mentally and physically. In less than one month, I've lost over seven kgs. Bet Anagha won't call me a fat British girl anymore. I had been wanting to lose my weight so bad, but never had the motivation to exercise or diet. Had no idea depression could help just as good.
I'm self diagnosed. Like we all are. Who has the courage to knock the doors of a psychologist and confirm? Because if we are, that'll be all the more reason to feel depressed. And if we aren't, the one reason to justify our lack of will to live will be gone. Either way, we lose at the hands of our mind.
Ignorance is bliss.
Bask in it.
I get an incoming call and it pulls me out of the daze. I answer the call, my eyes on the road. "Where are you?" His voice rings through the car speakers.
"I did it."
"Did what?" He asks. I don't answer. The silence is loud. And he understands right away. "No way!"
I chuckle. "Yup, I did it."
"You had been thinking about it for two weeks!" He exclaims. "I told you, just go for it. Congrats."
"Thanks."
"You don't sound too happy." He mumbles.
"I'm worried about Agastya's reaction. He might stop teaching me if he finds out I'm going to dance classes instead of relaxing on the day offs." I manoeuvre the car slowly through the dense traffic. I should have been quicker at the academy. I wasted too much time making the decision. Now it'll take me thirty minutes to cover up the ten minutes drive.
"Don't tell him." He replies.
I frown. "No, Tarun, if he catches me in the act, I'm done for."
He snorts. "Calm down. You're not doing drugs. It's dance. I'm sure he'll understand."
I sigh. "So, should I or should I not tell him?"
"I don't know. It's your decision. But my advise will be, lie only if you can. We know what happened the last time you tried to lie."
"You're going to hold that up against me for the rest of our lives, aren't you?"
"Yes," he answers cockily. "I had to break up with the love of my life because of you."
"You were fifteen, shut up." I scoff.
"Hey, it was real love." He defends. "And you were only apologetic for the first two days, weren't you?"
"Yeah, now we're friends. And in friendship, no sorry, no thank you."
"Oh my God," he groans. "Please stop watching Bollywood movies!"
"Why?" I whine. "They're fun."
"No, they're cringe." He retorts. "Anyway, I've to go. My roomate wants to see this cricket match. He got the tickets for us. We're already running late."
"You don't even like cricket."
"I know." He breaths out in annoyance. "He's an old money product. And stereotypically, he thinks all indians love cricket. But he's kind and humble. Doesn't have a bone of malice in his body. I couldn't say no."
"So kind of you, Mr. Mahjany." I remark sarcastically.
He clicks his tongue. "Maha- Whatever. I'm hanging up." The long beep follows. I roll my eyes and turn on the music. I had no idea Tarun can have so much attitude. He surprised me with it when we met again on my first day of University. He was so docile and innocent back in the palace, like a cow. But oh boy, was I wrong. He's not at all what he showed. I met a completely different guy that morning.
I get cutt off from my thoughts upon spotting Agastya on the sidewalk, facing the open field. I slow down my car and lower the window to call out his name when I notice what he's watching.
Baseball.
His face defies no expression. He simply stares at the boys playing on the field. Then I see him hold out his arm, his hand curls around an imaginary bat. And the moment the pitcher throws the ball, a real bat in the hands of the batter and an imaginary bat in the hands of my brother, both swing up.
Homerun.
Agastya smiles and fists pumps in victory. But slowly, the smile falters when no one comes running to him to celebrate the win. And reality strikes in. He starts walking back home. Shoulders slumped, feet dragging across the sidewalk.
I clench the wheel and drive off past him. Cutting off the engine in the parking lot, I grab my backpack from the passenger seat and step out of the car. The elevator ride lasts thirty seconds. It directly opens on our floor. I walk in and drop the backpack on the couch in the living room. Then I plop down facing the city.
"You're late than usual." Aunt Bertha walks in with a glass of water.
I stretch my neck to sides before taking the glass from her. "Yeah, the traffic was heavy today. Thank you, for this." I tip the glass towards her. She smiles, flipping the tray and holding it against her chest. When I'm done, she carries the empty glass back to the kitchen.
"Is Janet home?" I ask aloud.
"No, she said she has a date tonight. She came home from the University, got ready and left immediately." Aunt Bertha replies.
"Oh, ha, I forgot. That emo guy." I nod. "What's wrong with her taste these days." My nose scrunches.
The woman chuckles. "I wouldn't say it was any better before."
"True." I share my agreement.
The elevator dings signalling an arrival. I face away from the glass wall. The metal doors slide open, revealing a smiling Agastya. "Hey there, short stuff. Why late today?"
"Gimme a hug!" I demand, my arms open as an invitation.
He falters in his steps. "Why?" The smile on his face slightly fades.
"I had a bad day." I pout. "I need emotional support."
He laughs softly and comes over, sitting next to me before his arms go around my waist. I throw mine around his shoulders and pull him closer. Then I gently pat his back.
"What happened?" He murmurs.
"I got reminded of the past." I answer.
His arms tighten around me. "It's okay, I'm here." He reassures.
I hum. My eyes fall close, chin rests comfortably on his shoulder. We don't pull apart until we're ready to face each other as typical siblings.
"Did no one tell you this?"
"What?" I open my eyes.
"You stink." He replies.
I quickly pull away and shove him on the face. He releases a quiet oomph. "You stink, you fucking oaf!" I grunt and get up, before getting away with a kick on his shin. He groans in pain and holds his leg. When his eyes lock with mine, they narrow. I book it with a squeal.
I miss him by a split second. My bedroom door slams shut on his face.
"Come out, Taranya." He commands.
"No, fuck off."
"Come out until I'm being nice, Short stuff." He warns.
"Oh no, I'm so scared someone save me." I act frightened.
"You're going to regret this." He threatens.
"Oh, how so?" I ask brazenly.
"Meet me in the gym in fifteen." He orders before walking away. His footsteps thump across the floor.
I gasp and pull the door open. "Agastya, I'm sorry!" He holds up a middle finger in his retreat.
"Okay, you come and kick me back!" I offer.
And holy shit, the way he spins around gives me chills. I hightail back into the bedroom. We play chase and hunt around my bed, across the room, in the bathroom, until he finally has me in his chain like grip. Then he kicks me in the shin so hard I topple over whimpering. He leaves after pulling at my hair.
"What the fuck was that for, you asshole!?" I glare at his back.
He looks over his shoulder and smiles. "Interest." And slams the door of my bedroom shut. "In the gym in fifteen!" He instructs loudly.
I huff angrily and sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sore spot.
Knowing better than to go late, I wash up and change into my gym clothes. Agastya waits for me in front of the ring. I'm unable to help the smile of excitement. "Are we finally doing one on one fight?" I approach him with a new found zeal.
He drops his crossed arms and turns to face me. "No."
My smile vanishes. "Then? Back to the sandbag?"
"Warm up first." He says and goes inside the store room. I press my lips together, hiding the disappointment and starting the routine warm up. Agastya returns a few minutes later with a dummy model. "You've practiced enough with the sandbag. We've already worked on your posture and stance, now it's time to work on your strength and concentration." Then he pulls down the white screen and turns on the projector. "As you warm up, watch these beginners video I've downloaded for you. I'll go and change in the meantime." I nod in response.
The rest of my siblings have no idea I'm learning how to fight. I didn't find it important enough to tell. Though Agastya freaked out. He was scared I'll hurt myself or worse, ruin my face. I assured him nothing of that sort will happen. But he was afraid, more so of Yuvraaj than anyone else. Honestly, even I'm afraid of his reaction. But that doesn't mean I won't stand by my decision.
I had instances where I could have saved myself but couldn't because I wasn't capable of protecting myself. Then, I didn't care about it much. I relied too much on my guards, my brothers and I relied too much on him. And he made use of my weakness. He exploited it to his benefit. Sometimes as Rudra, sometimes as Shourya. And I fell for his acts like a fool. More than hurt, I felt embarrassed. People lie to betray, he acts.
God, even the thought of him riles me up.
And it shows when we start my lessons. Time and again, Agastya tells me to slow down, to not exert all my stamina in the initial blows. He loosens my tensed shoulders, unwraps and wraps my ripped knuckles, advises me to think about the fight while I fight.
"Fighting is not about showing aggression or anger. It's not blowing up. You need to think before every punch you throw. You never attack without a plan, Taranya. Strategies and wars go hand in hand. Combat is not all about physical strength. It's about technique and your own style."
I nod in response, considering his advice as I continue my training.
Janet returns home in time before dinner. Agastya and I are coming out of the gym when we notice her enter the living room.
"How was the date?" I approach her.
She startles a little before focusing on me. Her eyes drift towards Agastya before landing back on me. "Okay," she shrugs.
"Okay?" I question, my brows furrow together in worry. "What's wrong?"
She sits down on the couch.
"I gotta take a shower. See you for dinner." Agastya taps my back. I nod at him, distracted by the distraught expressions on Janet's face.
"What happened?" I sit down in front of her, my hand reaches out to cup her knee.
She twists her lips. "There's a guy in my college. He kept asking me out for a week. I told him no several times, but he just wouldn't listen!" She snaps, appearing heated. I nod in understanding. "So to shut him up, I called Ayush and made him talk to the guy as my boyfriend. It's been a week. But I cross paths with him again today in the amusement park. And he told my date that apparently, I've a boyfriend and I'm a two-timing bitch who whores around." My lips fall apart in shock. "And my date, instead of believing me, trusted him and left me stranded in the middle of the amusement park, forty minutes from our place, without a car. Only I know how I managed to find my way back home." She hugs her knees.
"I'm so sorry," I mumble and hug her.
"I hate men." She grumbles.
I nod, rubbing her back up and down. "I understand."
Her phone starts to ring and we pull away. She takes out her phone from her purse. Her eyes light up. "It's Ayush. I gotta tell him everything. He told me to inform him if the guy troubles me again." And she's off to her room. I sigh softly. She's so whipped for the boy but she'll never admit. She has him friendzoned. At least, he's willing to wait. People who wait for you are rare. Imagine spending the most precious fortune of your life on someone else. Time.
I get off the couch and head to my bedroom for a shower. During dinner, the two spend most of their time eating and scrolling through their phones. I use that as an opportunity to put the roti and stuffed eggplant back in their casseroles.
I survive on dal and rice just fine.
Janet follows me to my room after dinner. I fold my laundry clothes while she looks through movie options on Prime for us to watch. "Admission confirmed?" I look at her with a frown. She's leaning in, staring curiously at the screen. "Nar- Naritya- what is this? Some dance academy?" She looks up at me.
I gasp and drop the clothes, hurrying towards the bed. I see my mail inbox open and click on the link to deposit the advance payment.
"You enrolled for the dance academy?"
I nod.
"Is it the same one you were talking about for the last two weeks?"
I click on enter.
Transaction Completed.
"Yes," I look at her.
She smiles, looking impressed. "All the best."
"Thank you."
A week later, I stand in front of my Guru, wearing the white anarkali my Dad bought me, the one I wore when I last talked to him. My dupatta tied into a knot, resting on my right hip.
"Let's begin?" She asks with a smile.
"Yes."
Will it be my female lead if she doesn't know how to dance? I can't help it lol. I'm a dance fanatic.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment. Makes my day.