Chapter 1
Sprawled Across
What can one compare the racing heartbeats of first love with? Like the inconspicuous breeze before the first monsoon shower, the tiny buds that bloom in spring or the hum of an old melody...? The reminiscence that dwells in the secret chambers of the heart, like in a Pandora box, unequalled and unforgettable.
1996, Hyderabad
There was something about that warm, musky afternoon that etched into my brain, stored as a sacred memoir of that particular day when I snuck out of my grandmother's house unnoticed, into the neighbouring orchard where the children of the locality gathered.I'd used the opening music of the Daily soap to conceal the noise of my ungraceful landing into the neighbouring compound. It was with the most helpful assistance of the washing tank that elevated itself to a very convenient height for me.
I clutched some of my adored glass marbles in my hand and deposited them into the pocket of my trousers before stepping on the lower branch of the tree clumsily.
Dry leaves crunched under my shoes and his head whirled and faced me, and stretched out his hand which I declined, reaching out for the branch above me and firming my feet on the trunk, hoisting myself. I scooted next to the boys and my legs dangled down. I glanced down into the neighbour's compound which we were overlooking. Someone was properly drying the clothes on the wall in a bright orange saree, my favourite colour.
"Who's this boy?" My playmate's unfamiliar friend asked while I dusted my trousers. He was carrying a sling in his hand, which I happened to notice, belonged to me.
My attention dissipated at his question. Boy? Mumma told people I was a girl... Strange, how this gender thing works outside of my house.
"Girl," Kabir affirmed my gender and tried to remember my name and I was really helpful even as a five-year-old. .
"Shyla." I supplied and the other boy showed some surprise on his face.
A little boy's pudgy arms came up and tugged at my sleeve.
I looked down at the little boy who was trying to claim my attention. "Get that." I pointed at the stranger who was fiddling with my wooden sling. Mine.
I knew he would, as he reached to the other boy; but with poor instincts, because he shoved his hands away with a frown.
I reached out to push him because I was apparently pissed, which startled him and he dropped the sling and to hold the branch for his dear life instead. My subordinate was already scurrying down the tree for the sling.
What amused me more than the fact that I was ready to risk the poor kid's life for a 20 bucks sling was the fact that nobody else flinched. The sling was back in my hands and all was well.I was ready to forgive the traitor and accept him into the game.
It was not that the boy had taken my act in humour, but he understood that I was an authoritative figure in the playground. His eyes pooled and he hurriedly wiped them off to join us.
Life as a girl with a buzz cut and trousers was not hard apart from the gender confusion which I found irrelevant anyways. I was a recognised authority among my toddler playmates.What else could life offer?
Most of the boys, I stopped bullying or playing with, much to their relief. But what seemed like ages ago, we had a routine playtime by the colony. The colony where I met Kabir and then stared the string of introductions.
My first playmate was acquainted with me by this spritely lady we met at the dentist's place. We were too middle-class to consider a visit to the dentist as a necessity but then my sister's wails that morning were enough to convince my mother that it presently was.
The dentist's was fascinating. Atleast for five-year-old me. The reception was cold and silent,metal benches lined on either side, a septic odour wafting in the air.
Siya slumped down into one of the seats, holding her cheeks with an icepack, while I was busy observing a remote fish in the aquarium. I gave a little encouraging knock at the glass and my mother swatted my hands.
"What a cute little kid you have!" A lady commented, giving me an adoring look .She came at me and pinched my cheeks nice and hard that I was tempted to flick her hands away.
My sister was amused by this, because she knew how much I hated the cheek-pinching.
My eyes automatically narrowed when she extracted her had away from my face.
From my low viewpoint, I observed what I could see of her. She had these humungous gray sunglasses perched on her head.
Her warm ivory skin was coated with too much talcum powder.
I rubbed my face in silence, observing a blooming conversation between the adults.My scowl disappeared when a bar of milk chocolate came towards me.
Oh well, maybe she isn't all that bad.
As I unwrapped it, I heard my mother laugh at something she said and I had to gape.
My mom doesn't make friends that easily.
And here we were at the dentist's and she was chatting away merrily.
Later I realised the extent of their friendship when I had to endure her fondling my cheeks
several times later.
She also had a skyscraper-like husband who gave me an approving look listening to my made-up poems.
They moved into our colony later. That was when I had the pleasure of acquaintance with their offspring.
Kabir and Saloni.
I even distinctly remember the first time I met them, two skinny children with bright, tanned faces. Saloni sporting a polka-dotted orange frock and Kabir in a striped shirt tucked into a pair of soddy mustard shorts.
Kabir was awfully naughty and taught me to climb trees. A skill which I found useful to pluck the choicest mangoes from the grove that used to encircle my area. Also, the one who acquainted me with my bullying victims.
Saloni, on the other hand, was such a GIRL.Apart from Barbie the glittering fairy,she also was very interested in giving me minute by minute account of her life-a habit she cherished for quite some time. It was a matter of concern for me since I found her conversations intolerably mundane.
We had no choice but to meet on playdates often because our mothers liked to meet together for the regular gossip.
2005
It used to be the four of us.
My sister Siya, Kabir, Saloni and myself.
Siya did not grace us with her company as often because she considered herself all grown up, in high school and all. While myself, the youngest, had just begun 7th standard. But then they were days when she would listlessly roam around the house and find us with one dingy board game and eventually slump down into one of the benches to join us.
As it was then.
I noticed that the group were already going to encroach into my dwelling so I frantically balled up my pile of clothes and put it in the plastic laundry bucket and snapped it shut.
Siya's side of the bed was spotlessly tidy as usual. She had even stacked her laundry clothes.
I gave a bright smile and sat on my knees when Siya deposited the board game on the bed and the siblings followed.
The bed dipped and Kabir knelt next to me. I believe our forearms had some sort of superficial contact.
I looked up to his head full of wavy hair and then hesitated before concentrating on the board game.
Saloni, fortunately, or unfortunately, barged into the little space between us.
I grew distracted when I noticed my sister discreetly pulling out my little pink receipt that claimed that I had purchased a real estate for 20 rupees.
I firmed my palm down on my receipts. "Oi, this is cheating!"
"It was just... About to fly off in the air, I just kept it back, okay?" Siya defended herself lamely and I rolled my eyes.
"Hey, what's this?" Kabir asked, holding up a diary covered in newspaper.
I assumed that covering anything in the newspaper gave it some sort of mundane just-one-of-those-books appearance so that was how I decorated my yearly personal journal.
But I assume that what caught Kabir's attention was the limited edition tattoo that I'd stuck on the front cover.
"It's nothing..." I muttered. He would keep it back. He was what you'd call an anti-bibliophile.
But instead, he chose to open the very front page where I knew without seeing it that I would have squiggled the words 'WARNING: Confidential'.
I tugged it away from his hands, hearing his chortle.
"What do you mean by confi--Do you have a secret life in the National intelligence or something?"
"Ha, ha. It's what you'd call a lady's personal diary," I blurted and tossed it gingerly into my shelf.
He didn't have anything to say for that, darting a glance at the book and then at my semi flustered face, looking thoughtful. I knew Kabir got inquisitive about things and he might want to slide it off my shelf and have a look at it later, just to appease his curiosity. Then my journal was going into my school supply box later.
Siya raised an eyebrow which translated to What kind of trash did you write there?
Because she kind of knew that I'd started to become awkward around a certain someone around middle school and when that certain someone dangles your personal diary in front of your face, you might be a little miffed too.
"My little sister has a crush, how cute." She'd teased and I'd whapped her head with her fat Physics book in reply.
Siya looked between me and Kabir with a little smirk and returned to watching Saloni roll her dice.
"I don't want to play this stupid game," Saloni announced.
"You know you're losing and you suddenly lose interest. Logical," Kabir remarked at his sister.
Saloni made a face in reply.
We all heard it then, someone hollering from down below. The balcony door creaked when I pried it open to see a group of sweaty boys from our neighbourhood below.
"What?" I demanded, knowing exactly what.
"Kabir. We want Kabir," One of them screamed as if we were holding him captive in a lone tower.
Hearing his name being uttered with so much passion, Kabir came to the window as well.
I leaned against the grill watching Kabir tell them that he'd come down in five.
"What dude, you're playing with girls?" One of the older boys-David commented and I hated him instantly. One fellow snickered in response.
Against my own volition, I darted a glance at my companion who looked like he had a trace of embarrassment swimming in his eyes.
Boys were funny like that.
"So what?" I wanted to holler back. "We're all his friends too, same as you. What in the world do you mean with that tone you used, you sweaty freak?"
But I just observed them with silent venom in my gaze.
Kabir's fingers slipped away from the grill and he massaged the back of his neck.
Oh, boy! He was really Embarrassed.
"Whatever dude. I'm coming now,"He muttered.
Middle school was whooshing past us. Kabir was one of my good friends, however, I suspected that I was being increasingly absorbed into the friendzone.
I really want to say that it's his cricket matches that were kind of reducing the time we spent together, ignoring the fact that he was a teeny bit embarrassed to be friends with a girl his age. Those weirdos hooting behind him when I approach him and all.
Stupid teenage boy logic. This called for extreme measures.
I sighed and tossed my 5-year-old walkman on the floor.
It kind of broke I think.
The sacrifices one makes for their crush, though!
I went skipping to my saviour like a butterfly.
The door was ajar and Kabir was watching a football match in his living room, legs sprawled on the arm of the chair.Saloni welcomed me with unbridled enthusiasm and retired to her room to search for the cool pencil box that she'd always wanted to show me.
Whereas, Kabir spared me a glance and turned his attention to the television box.
"Um, my walkman broke," I blabbed.
After a few seconds, he tore his eyes off the screen and looked at me and then at the device.
I gave my best puppy dog face.
The commercial came on so he got up from his couch and sauntered up to me.
He took it from my hands and examined it. It had an ugly dent on the side where you insert cassettes.
I was meanwhile preoccupied counting the lint balls on the shoulder of his T-shirt.
"Do I look like a mechanic?"
He asked.
"Huh?"
"Just tell your mom or something,"He dismissed.
"My mom will scold me. This is expensive,"I told him with as much anxiety that I could muster. I couldn't care less.
He sighed and grabbed it."Okay."
I spent a few wonderful evenings with Kabir as he worked with his tools and his overgrown hair kept falling on his face.
"Pass me the cassette."
"Here," I responded sweetly.
He spared me a glance. "You can grab some chips in the kitchen incase you're hungry or something."
"That's okay," I shrugged with a sugary smile.
On good talking terms. A pat on my back.
Like the old days...
But one sunny morning I'd as usual visited the Jhas and was surprised to find a female stranger on his couch, legs forded.
"Hey," Cassandra spoke as we were introduced.
"This is my classmate Cassie, "Kabir told me.
I smiled. Or tried to.
I gave her an inconspicuous once over and narrowed my eyes until she gave me a cool look and a quick smile appeared on my face.
She wasn't attractive or anything but the upper compartment was um, quite fulfilling. That's nice.
"What are you doing? High school?"She asked sizing me up with her grey eyeshadow glazed eyes utmost disapprovingly.
I consciously brushed my pixie cut bangs from my forehead.
My cheeks coloured."No, I'm a 7th grader."
"Two years younger than us?"She asked lifting her eyebrows."You don't look like that."
She tilted her head and observed me as if I was a fossil from the nineteenth century.
"Why don't you shove those uncalled observations down your throat, hmm?" I replied within my head.
Thankfully Kabir maintained a diplomatic silence to this statement.
"Hey, Barbie the glittering fairy queen rerun is on!"Saloni piped in from the living room.
I would have run for my life in other instances but I had to get away from Cassandra's piercing stare.
"Really?"With a huge plastic smile, I joined her with laboured enthusiasm leaving the classmates to themselves.