||CHAPTER 2||
《¤》
My mother was sitting on the window seat when I woke up from a short nap. It was dark, meaning I had overslept. Sensing movement, she turned her attention from the open window to me.
"Perhaps it's a good morning now?" She asked, straightening up. "I will be leaving in an hour. Your Dad is home."
I didn't respond, just checked my phone. It was seven in the evening. Her flight back to Mumbai was scheduled at nine.
"I have arranged your clothes in your wardrobe, just the way you prefer. The empty bags and suitcases are in the store room. If you need them, Ratan Kaka ko bol dena, woh nikaal denge."
"Why can't you and Dad just stand each other?" I jumped to the point.
She stood in front of the dresser, adding a layer of red to her lips. "We already had our civil conversation. You were asleep. Anyways, wash your face. I will be leaving now."
"I thought you said an hour?"
"I changed my mind," she shrugged. "I have to meet a few of my friends."
Adjusting the pallu of her saree, she slipped out of the door. I followed her instructions and was met by my father in the living room.
"Good evening," he greeted me with a smile. He came towards me, wrapping me in a hug. I noticed he still smelt of Old Spice, something that I could associate only with him. His hair now had sneak peaks of grey in them.
"It wasn't a Good morning," I replied, pulling out of the embrace.
He obviously got the hint, and very adamantly ignored it. No how was the ride back home and definitely no how have you been.
My mother interrupted the awkward silence by making her presence known.
"I'll be leaving now," she informed, her maroon Caprese handbag by her shoulder. She looked tired, but I knew there was no way she would be staying. "Arnav," she called out, and just like the loyal puppy he was, he came out of his room.
"Take care," she informed both of us, and then looked at me pointedly. "Call me whenever you need to."
There was no overly dramatic display of love. We didn't hug. I didn't feel like it either.
Dad rose from his seat to see her off.
"Binoy," Mom smiled. "Take care of your mother. I'll send you an invitation soon. Hope to see your full family there."
"Safe flight, Maanyata." He had his hands inside his pockets.
That was their kind of goodbye. Nothing sensible. Just plain bullshit.
With her eyes sweeping around the room for one last time, she turned around and left. I hadn't expected her to stay for an hour after we arrived in Delhi, but she did prove me wrong by staying until I woke up.
And even though it was June, I found myself wrapping my arms around my body, seeking warmth.
"Where's Daadi?" I asked.
"She'll be back by nine," Dad replied, letting go of his blazer on the sofa, walking towards his pristine home-bar.
Just as I started walking back to my room, he called me. "Your school starts tomorrow, if you didn't know."
I did. I had missed a week of school, owing to my sudden decision of moving back to Delhi.
"Ratan Kaka will give you the uniform. Rest of it, ask your brother."
When I didn't reply, he looked at me.
"Did you eat anything? Since you have arrived?"
"Yep. Ratan kaka made us bread pakodas."
He nodded, and walked towards me. And then, he hugged me. It was so foreign, so out of place... and yet I didn't retract. "Vika, I know it's hard for you. But you made the right decision. By coming back to live with us, you aren't being a coward. Everyone has missed you here."
"I'm not weak Dad. Carry on with your lives." Like you always do. Will do.
He patted my shoulder. "Dinner will be served whenever you want. I'll be in my study."
It was just me and Arnav at the table during breakfast next morning. Simple, awkward, and unappetizing.
"The bus comes at 7:40, so we need to be down soon." He informed me, breaking the silence, and I kept on having the bland corn flakes, the same one my mother used to force me to have back in Mumbai.
"Are we always going to have this for... breakfast?" I asked, watching the cornflakes drown in the milk.
"You can always ask Ratan Kaka for something else. May be they'll listen to you."
I watched his nearly empty bowl and looked back at mine.
"Don't even think about it," he interrupted my thoughts. "I'm not finishing your bowl."
"I wasn't thinking that."
"Clearly," he scoffed, indicating how I had inched my bowl closer to his.
Dropping the spoon, I collected the bowl with both my hands, and drank all the gooey mess within a minute. Arnav stopped his motions, eyeing me with an interest that vets often get when they stare at a sick puppy.
"You're not the only one who is allowed to have a mustache," I said, getting up to wash my face.
He followed my actions, and with a quick goodbye to Ratan Kaka, we were soon in the elevator.
"Vika... I'm kinda glad that you're back, you know."
I found a stray thread on the skirt of my new uniform to keep myself busy from replying back. When the elevator stopped, we heard a honk, which most definitely belonged to a school bus.
As I boarded the bus after him, I noticed the toddlers crying, middle schoolers sleeping and others eyeing me up like I was new meat. Which I was.
Scanning the bus for a vacant seat, I stared back at everyone who had the nerve to raise an eyebrow at me. But before I could think of the possibility of having to adjust with another cranky pool of tears in the front rows for a place, Arnav pulled my hand and ushered me towards the seats at the back–the ones always reserved for the seniors.
As the bus maneuvered its way through the early morning traffic, I felt myself dozing off again. "How long before we reach?"
"Not long enough for you to say good night."
I rolled my eyes, as the bus filled up, and heard him mutter a swear under his breath, before a girl occupied the seat in front of us. "Quick precap, do not freak out, okay?"
I rose an eyebrow at him for an explanation, but the girl in front of us had already beat him to it.
"Oh my god, aren't you @arvika, daughter of Maanyata Yatis?" Words flew out of her mouth as she turned around to face me, her legs dangling off the edge of the seat. The fact that she knew my Instagram username without having ever met me caught me a little off-guard. When I didn't respond within milliseconds, she directed her gaze at Arnav. "I read that she's marrying the CEO of Oberoi industries... Wait, but what are you doing here, in Delhi?"
Stalkers weren't strangers to me. "Why don't you figure it out yourself?"
"Heh," she gave out an awkward laugh before composing herself. "I mean, you're obviously going to our school, but, like, I mean, why-"
Arnav tried to interject, "Ishita, I think you need to–"
"Shush, Arnav" She said in a hushed tone. "Mom was saying that she apparently has a twin brother, but she doesn't live with him..."
She trailed off mid-sentence, her short hair bouncing as her eyes darted between me and Arnav. "No shit. Arvika Deewan. Arnav Deewan. You are twin?" She turned to Arnav. "Wait, so your sister isn't fictional? She is the one who came yesterday? Ritwik wasn't kidding?"
A beat of silence passed before I looked out of the window. I extended my hand forward. "Arvika Deewan. Nice to meet you."
She returned the handshake with a bashful giggle. "You must be thinking I'm such a stalker."
"I'm thinking you'd make a stellar FBI agent one day, and that I really like your hair."
She weaved a hand through her long bob, making space for Vansh who had just boarded the bus.
"You guys... kinda look alike," she observed me and Arnav. "But at the same time... you don't. Hey, can I ask something?"
"No."
"Too bad, I'll ask anyway. I am Ishita Gupta by the way, and I know you are Arvika Deewan, twin sister of Arnav Deewan now"
"She was always my sister, you stalker," Arnav said, turning back.
She stuck her tongue out at him. "What brings you back to Delhi, Arvika?"
My legs were shaking under the desk, I was bored beyond limits. Next to me, Ishita yawned, doodling away in her textbook.
"Before the bell rings, and you guys run a marathon," the Physics teacher announced, rubbing the vector diagrams off the board, "I want to tell you that this isn't tenth, and you won't pass until you study everyday. I won't make an effort to remember your names until you make an effort to solve H.C. Verma. So note down the homework for today, and make sure you don't show up tomorrow unless you complete it."
"Gosh, he sounded way too hot, even his threats are so hot," Avni, one of the students, let out a dreamy sigh behind us. My eyes darted to Ishita's and I could feel both of us getting grossed out.
"I have no idea how you can have a crush on a teacher," Ishita mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "That's just... ew."
"At least we will be studying one subject. I'm so gonna ace Physics this year, and make sure he remembers who Akshata Diwakar is," another girl piped in. I shook my head, rolling my eyes and standing up.
"Don't worry," Ishita turned to me, as we started walking out of the classroom. "Your new best friend isn't a gross teacher perve. Or a teacher's pet."
"And since when are we best friends?" I asked, watching her curiously as she proceeded to hook our arms together. Arnav was right about her being a freak.
"Oh come on, stop denying my company," she said as Vansh, Arnav and Ritwik joined our walk to the canteen. "They've tried it. But we all know who's their life saver. Literally. They almost burnt themselves in Chem Lab last week."
Karan patted my back, acknowledging my discomfort. "Welcome to the tribe. It's impossible to get rid of her."
"Hey!" Ishita rebelled, "Stop scaring her! She's new."
The boys gave her a look which was clearly ironic. But as much as I had come to know about this girl, I knew she didn't even notice it.
"I smell pav-bhaaji," Ritwik sniffed the air and peeked over others as we lined up in the canteen.
"Aren't first days all about healthy food and promises about a healthy school year?" Vansh sighed. "Why can't they just simply give us some Greek salad and call it a day?"
My face scrunched up in disgust. "You prefer salad? Over pav-bhaji?"
"Don't worry," Arnav looked at me, "They don't heed to his demands here."
Vansh rolled his eyes, leading us to a vacant table.
"Do you know who's our English teacher this year?" Ritwik asked suddenly, looking at me with wide eyes. Was I an experimental specimen here?
"How would I know?" I asked back, tearing the pav. My mother would have slain me if she were to see me meddling up my diet.
"Well..." he drawled, looking around the table. "She's... Raman Oberoi's ex-wife. Joined this year, before the summer. I thought you would have known her."
My movements paused, but I didn't look up. I knew everyone on this table sensed the change in atmosphere. "And I am supposed to care because..?"
"She's your step-father's ex-wife? Just thought you knew her."
"Oberoi is not our step-father," Arnav said quickly. The 'yet' lingered in the air, unaddressed.
Oblivious once more, Ishita changed the topic. "Do you know that this year we have to make P.E. notebooks? Like who even does that?"
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Namoshtaii!
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~chaashnee