2 September 2010
"I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul."
— Pablo Neruda
Only rarely I missed the school bus, after the first couple of days.
I learned it the laborious way that if I missed my bus, I would have to go to school with my brother and he didn't exactly have the best company. They were alright to handle on my best days, but I would rather not meet them early in the morning when waking up was a hassle in itself and getting ready–ah well, I hated it.
As usual, I was in the seat beside Navya's, by myself. Navya was unfortunately sympathetic and bounteously disheartened when I made no eye contact but her 'mean girl' group generously indulged her into spicy gossip. The tame window, to my right, entertained me.
Two enlivened deer skipped in zigzag motions through a trail of trees that touched the clouds, and formed a maze for them. Maybe they were being chased by an animal from behind, the window frame blocked my vision.
Animals had to go to all extents to protect themselves. I didn't have any of those tedious worries. I didn't have to struggle for palatable meals, or have to butcher a creature to fill my stomach. I should've been happy, and indeed that thought made me.
I admired the rangy bushes that stood alone yet strong, and the robust wind that majestically flew as he pleased not ceasing for a single soul in the universe. I wanted to be like them. Such ambitions never crossed me in Bangalore; Bangalore was a warm cocoon for me, and Mumbai... Mumbai was everything unfamiliar in one place, at the same time.
The crocked bus derailed the main road and paused by a wide ledge laid with fresh concrete. It wasn't time yet, school was another fifteen minutes away. Only a bus stop, it was, no wonder.
Cheerful new girls hurried in, two of them and one of them stood beside me. I pulled a small smile almost ignoring the eagerness to converse and shifted closer to the edge so she could get enough space. "Shukriya," she mumbled in a soft tone. "Naam kya hai tumhara?" Now I didn't know Hindi, but I knew 'naam' meant 'name'.
I pivoted, brushing hair strands off my face. She wore a religious headscarf and a gentle welcoming smile. Her eyes were a drugging shade of green, with a dollop of honey in the middle. She was as beautiful as an angel.
Most of us in school hated two braids, including myself, but for her hair that dropped to her knees, adorable braids accentuated the health of her lustrous locks. "I'm Nandini. 10B."
"Hi Nandini... Main Amira. 9A mein hoon shayad, pata nahi," She giggled, her name was Amira, and she was in 9A, I deciphered and smiled as an achievement.
Before I could say anything else, I heard the driver croak. There was an exchange of a words. And then footsteps were heard on the metal stairs. With his height, it took less than a second to spot him. He confidently flung his bag on his shoulder while scanning the seats one at a time. What is he doing here? I thought, and my cheeks felt red hot.
And then he happened to catch a glimpse of me, then hardy arrogance faded into compliant composure and then a mischievous smug appeared.
His sluggish strides, in contrast to my expeditious heartbeat, were crucifying. The last thing I wanted was for him to shoo this new friend of mine away and take her. After so many days I had found a proper friend.
Also, that would be very inappropriate, for a boy to sit with a girl in school apart from such punishments.
Navya oscillated between peering at Manik and then unexpectedly shifted to me, my reaction she noted and ever since the vicious cycle continued. She probably wondered what was going on between us.
Manik had his own bike, he never had to take the bus and he considered it below him in fact to take the school bus that normal people took. Irritable as he was, he didn't pass by me for ages. When he did, I blew a paltry suspire that didn't go unnoticed. Then he came to a stop.
"Oi... Hatt yahan se," The middle school boy who was behind me until then fled for his life, and Manik took his spot, adjusting his light bag on his lap and in the process kneeing me with his extensive legs. I drew in a sharp breath at the unexpected impact though trying to quickly regain indifference, but Manik grunted in satisfaction.
"Toh tumko yeh school pasand hai?" I accidentally went 'huh' and Manik giggled, rudely interrupting our conversation.
"Isko Hindi nahi aati hai. Madam Bangalore se hai," I turned around and scowled as I was the head of the joke, but Amira looked bothered if not creeped out.
I had to explain, "He's my... brother's friend,"
"Best friend," he added, while sniggering at me, more specifically my choice of words for him. Amira nervously smiled and then apologised for her absent-minded use of Hindi. No conversations sprouted further.
I was still being kneed in the back, I never mentioned it though; he was doing it for a reaction anyways and I would not give him that. He occasionally tapped my shoulder and I flinched, but that was about it, which amused him for a little while. Navya however became the CCTV in the bus, monitoring every action and reaction that revolved around us and actively attempted to dismiss any ideas she got about the two of us, before confirming.
School had come and I was one of the first ones to hurry out of my seat, after waving to Amira, which she grandly appreciated. What I didn't realise was that Manik had hella long legs, and that five seconds later his relaxed pace matched mine. "Oi..."
I paused in my tracks and swirled, he had stopped by then too. "What is your problem, huh?"
"I should be asking that, don't you think?" He said while combing his hair and scanning the bus bay. Several eyes were on us, only then I realised.
I instinctively moved closer to him, hoping he would hide me. It signalled an act of something new, something I had not confessed to him so far. Yes, I felt protected when he was with me. His blink loitered at the distance between us, mechanically shutting and opening as if registering the same thought.
Then with immense strength, "You've been behaving weird since dawn," he completed, while in a world of his own.
"I'm not being weird," I defended.
For him it was easy, he was so popular, and mean. He didn't care if he was talked about, and lack of a reaction itself put off tattletales. But I... I was new, and what people thought of me mattered. That was just who I was, a person who sought validation from everyone else. I was never enough myself.
I knew rumours would spread about Manik taking the bus, and people would drill into the 'whys' and somehow a story will spin centring me. And I had just promised Aiyappa otherwise.
Manik's hostility wept into cruel satisfaction. I had to end it. "Manik... Why did you take the bus?"
He had not hesitated when he said, "There was no other way to meet you." He then swivelled so his back was to the emerging crowd and I was out of their direct sight. My lips pursed together to hold a pullulating grin back; if I smiled, he would too and that would distract me from making my point across.
"You could've waited for a few more hours, right?"
If I haven't already mentioned, Babbu, Manik Malhotra hates to be rebutted. Hates–it's a strong word but–exactly. He crossed his arms, bored, "And what?"
"And met me at lunch?" It was a much brainier idea that wouldn't provoke unwanted chatter in a sovereign school where he was worshipped. I wondered why he couldn't think of such things, and instead had to always take the most impractical approach to make himself known–added with a pronounced effect.
But what I expected of the situation was not what happened.
His bag he wore on both shoulders then, and threw the shoulders to readjust weight on them, "Okay, I'll see you at lunch. Library, second floor, History section," He uttered quickly and escaped from my sight, before I could even say a word.
I heaved a big whiff of air, realised how I had been so easily tricked and then sulked in defeat–though internally awaiting the evergreen lunch break.
⭒⭒⭒
Manik
That was one of the days Harshad and Mukti had seriously broken up. It wasn't my sister's fault, Harshad had royally fucked up, as always. But she faced the heat. A side of her neck was red, inflamed in some way and the brotherly side of me stirred to seek details. It must've been his doing! I wanted to snap his damn neck that day, but I couldn't forget that he was Alia's brother, though my sister's abusive love interest too.
Friendship over family, I had sworn. Mukti liked it that way too, she claimed to love him.
I had failed to see what she saw in him when there were several million other guys in the planet who could treat her much better.
Harshad.
He loathed me from the bottom of his non-existent heart. He was spiteful of me, for I had everything he didn't but pined for. An extravagant bungalow, affluent 'parents', a solid friendship circle... well, that was what our lives were about back then. A solid group of buddies to haul us through thick and thin. Harshad lost it all that day.
That tempestuous evening, when as children, an accident changed three innocent lives.
"It's practice time, guys,"
The only memory I had of that night was a little Dhruv experiencing something close to a seizure while being lifelessly carried on a stretcher, IV drips strapped to his tiny convulsing arm, his body driven into an ambulance. I was by the side of the road, clasping my shaking hands to my chest, sweat mixed with tears, and then blacked out soon. Something about that white light sucked the life out of me.
Harshad had run away. He swore it was an accident. We believed.
When Dhruv battled amnesia, Harshad never came to visit. Not once. Nyonika didn't let me stay in the hospital, and I understand that for a seven year old, that incident was traumatic. But Drishti Aunty didn't want me to leave. Maybe because she believed I was the only one who had answers. But I couldn't tell her. Not that night.
When I didn't respond, Cabir tapped my shoulder. "Manik..." I slipped my headset around my neck, snapping back into reality. That was almost two decades ago, almost, but the gruelling fear was real, so real it felt like yesterday.
"Diyah is worried about you," I rolled my eyes and then stood to my feet, untucking my t-shirt.
"She doesn't have to be. She needs to understand that I need to be by myself, and I'm not a child to be constantly looked after," I spat, somewhat suffocated by her needs to interact with me every couple of days.
Cabir seemed upset. He didn't know what I was preoccupied with and I couldn't be bothered enough to educate him.
"Don't do to her what you did to Nandini. Don't shut her out, Manik." He spoke inaudibly for only me to hear. The mention of Nandini's name stirred a flame in me.
"What do you know about Nandini? Huh?"
"Everything you are yet to learn,"
Bullshit! I knocked the stool I was sitting on, startling the rest who were unaware of the tiff between us. They probably thought I needed medical help, fuck them. "That's only one side of the story," I retorted at a volume that matched his but was sharp and threatening.
"Well, your side is just denial," How casually he shrugged alarmed me. He was not afraid of me, not at all, maybe that was why I was more upset. And the audacity he had to add to his claims, "Sadly, it is what she deserved to be in love with you anyways."
He just knew exactly what bruises to expose and sprinkle salt on!
I grabbed his yellow collar and pulled him closer, but he fought and resisted, "She wasn't in love with me. She was fourteen, Cabir! That's not love."
"Say whatever you want, Manik, it's not going to change anything now," It was a newly rising fear, that maybe... just maybe, Nandini would now be unattainable, and I didn't like the sound of that fear.
I pushed him away and grabbed my guitar, bolting towards the station everyone else was at. Pamela studied me eagerly as I adjusted the microphone to my height and then positioned my guitar. Beats began and then when Cabir's drumsticks tapped, I closed my eyes.
When I was a young boy,
Said put away those young boy ways
Now that I'm getting' older, so much older
I long for those young boy days
With a girl like you
In fiction, popular guys are always playboys. They are broken, shattered to a point where messing with girls boosts their ego. That is until the good girl enters. And he always falls for the good girl, who changes him completely, mends his ways and makes him committed to her.
Harshad was exactly that guy. But Mukti wasn't a good girl.
Nandini was, but I wasn't a playboy.
That was reality.
With a girl like you
Lord knows there are things we can do, baby
Just me and you
Come on and make it a
Hurt so good
Come on baby make it hurt so good
Sometimes love don't feel like it should
You make it, hurt so good
I had never mentioned to Nandini about girls in my past. There was only one, before Nandini, and that was neither serious nor mature. Things between us escalated really quickly, but I was thirteen then and so was she. She didn't know my history and me, I didn't care about much back then either.
You don't have to be so exciting
Just trying to give myself a little bit of fun, yeah
You always look so inviting
You ain't as green as you are young
I swear I didn't hurt her for fun. It would have been a possibility, yes I was that fucked up, but I didn't. I was young, and stupid and... she was everything but that. So mature, naturally forgiving, with a head full of strange bewitching reveries that eight months with her felt like an entire lifetime–she was that intense, flicking an emotion in every single person, at every single meeting–that wholesome.
Hey baby it's you
Come on girl now it's you
Sink your teeth right through my bones, baby
Let's see what we can do
Come on and make it a
Hurt so good
Come on baby make it hurt so good
Sometimes love don't feel like it should
You make it hurt so good
Maybe that's what love does to you. You hurt yourself at the expense of someone else. Maybe that was what Diyah was doing to herself. But Nandini... she wasn't in love with me now... was she?
⭒⭒⭒
We were lined up for assembly that morning. I was a little happier than usual, and I think it reflected in my interactions with other people too. They were more than elated to make conversation with me; Nandini, who until then was somewhat a dull girl in class, was suddenly more friendly and approachable.
Or maybe it was because Manik Malhotra gave me attention that all of a sudden I became popular.
Nevertheless, I rotated to my right casually, at the line barely forming as Manik went on and on about something heated. He was talking to Mukti but it seemed like a lecture rather than a conversation and Mukti was sometimes looking into the abyss, sometimes at him, but all in all the colour from her face had drained. She was visibly upset, and I just hoped it wasn't to do with Harshad again. Or Manik for that matter.
But Dhruv was smiling... at me. He was a sweet guy, modest yet charming and shy though reflective of his emotions. I had the feeling he wasn't comfortable with speaking English, or that it triggered a violent reaction in him; the way he held his head when he spoke to me said that. The action seemed fairly intuitive, and I was quick to recognise where I had seen it before.
Rishabh. And Rishabh got violent fits.
Dhruv waved, maybe he noticed I was staring, and I smiled back though a mild part of the scientist in me sparked a connection between the two. He gestured something with his hands only, mic off... two, that direction, drinking. After assembly, two minutes, meet me outside, water cooler. I blinked as the analogy clicked in my head, and then nodded with a gentle smile, which he broadly reciprocated.
"Nandini..." I knew the voice already, but I turned to her anyways. She wasn't the rude kind of person; she wasn't quite my type. I was a person who thought too much about burdening others that I would always keep my distance when first getting to know someone. Navya wasn't very receptive of that, she thought I didn't enjoy her company and maintained her distance. I was scared to claw back, she was probably better off without me.
Somewhere between my parents' death and settling back to my old life only without them, I found myself craving for company a lot. The abundant love I used to experience was suddenly snatched away for no fault of my own. The loss was so overbearing that at times I needed to detach from people, leech out of them and breathe by myself to understand myself without being wavered by their ideas.
But Mukti never caved into that anxiety of mine. Though I only knew her for a short while, it was as if she took me under her wing and protected me. I needed that kind of assurance for a long time. Just the idea that she found me worthy enough of protecting and caring for made me feel indebted to her on several levels.
"Yeah?"
"Who is that?" She discreetly pointed at Dhruv who was listening to the sports headmaster instructing something to him.
"Dhruv. He's my friend."
"He's part of Fab 5, right?" I nodded, "You're friends with Fab 5?"
"Yeah, my brother is a part of their group."
"Yeah but..." She eyed Mukti and then her shoulders fell. "I can never be like her na?"
"Like Mukti?"
Mukti had a beautiful heart, and was full of life. Extroverted, nothing like me, which was why so many were crazy about her perhaps. "Why do you want to be like Mukti?" I asked out of curiosity.
"She just has everything sorted. She's part of a big popular group. Harshad's her boyfriend. I mean look at her, she's so pretty..."
"Navya, you're nothing less. You allowed a new out-of-place girl like me to be your friend. Aryamann is one of the smartest boys in class, you're best friends with him." Her face lit up slightly though she wasn't joyous. "You have no reason to compare," I sincerely said, when Navya softly smiled before holding both of my hands.
"I'm sorry, I was never there for you, Nandini." I'm used to it, I wanted to say.
"It's okay Navya, smile now." She was guilty on many levels, on the verge of tearing up and I didn't want her to burst out crying. "So tell me, you like Harshad so much or what?"
Navya subsequently went on to blabber a story of her own–about how she hates piercing but Harshad wears a ring on his left ear and swalala...; Manik had a mole on the valley of his smile lines. Manik... my eyes diverted towards him yet again. He was locked in a trance with me, gazing from afar with a meek smile dancing on his lips. I wondered how long he was looking at me for; did he see when I was consoling Navya?
Incidentally I flicked my eyebrows at him, to which his head jerked once and then he smiled while looking away.
Aiyappa, why could I not stop staring!
⭒⭒⭒
The entrance to the library opened into a vast hallway with plywood benches and chairs in the centre–forming the quiet study space–followed by at least a dozen book stacks in Animation, Archealogy, and finer crafts like Script-Writing stuck to the walls. Each stack had a genre label on the side opening to the study space. I walked from aisle to aisle looking for the History label.
I felt a massive jolt and I was lugged into one of the aisles. When I paused and opened my eyes, Manik's right hand was around my left elbow, he was reading a thick book in a relaxed manner, smiling to himself as he pictured my confusion. I didn't know he was a fan of books. He wasn't looking at me, engrossed in something else per se.
I deliberated upon when he had come in, and for how long he was waiting here. "Did you eat something?" I asked somewhat strictly hoping for some attention to be thrown my way, ensuring my decibels were low enough for only him to hear.
"Hmm..."
Nothing?
With a gentle tap on his cradled forearm, I continued, "What do you mean by 'hmm'? What did you eat?"
He quietly closed his book, putting it back in the empty spot on the second shelf from the top. "Chuck all that... Tell me what I want to hear," Both his hands were on my elbows, and the distance between us had drastically reduced.
"What are you doing? We could get in trouble..."
"There's no cameras hovering around this section."
I fumbled, now replying to his previous statement, "What... do you mean?"
"Exactly what you're thinking..." He grinned, flicking his hair behind.
Perhaps it was about time to discuss my decision with him. "Manik, about that..."
"What were you talking about with Dhruv?" Oh.
There was a tinge of curiosity, but something beyond too. I was quick to say, "It was nothing..." Dhruv and I had an unusual conversation which had erupted from a conversation I had with my brother earlier that week. Manik didn't seem convinced, I didn't want to beat around the bush either; I wanted to tell him.
His hands had gradually lowered to my wrists and encircled them. "Abhi had asked him to teach me the guitar so..."
Grip around my wrists briskly tightened. "I am already teaching you," He stated as a matter of fact, though we hadn't had a single lesson so far. Forget lesson, I hadn't even laid a finger on his guitar.
"Abhi wants me to stop hanging out with you,"
"What? Why?"
The sudden gap between us was perturbing, I hadn't realised when he had backed away, and his warmth I couldn't feel on my skin any more. In the deepest corners of my conscience, I desired his warmth on me, but not in a creepy way. The fear of judgment had flown out long ago too, especially after the mention of no cameras.
I took a step closer to him, gently grazing the sides of his tie that were at my eye level then, "But that doesn't mean I want to..." I innocently declared before peering upwards. There was electrifying eye contact: tough and intense with fragile and virtueous.
He let me play with it, not wanting to bother me. "Not gonna lie, that is relieving." He had a weary smile on. Perhaps he was tired... tired of his life. But he was smiling. And maybe I was the reason. On such a rare occasion, I didn't want to delve into details about Dhruv or Abhimanyu, but it was important for him to know. And we were only beginning to understand each other.
"My brother thinks you might hurt me. That day, in my room,"
His hands impulsively went to his hair, clutching locks of it as he combed them backwards, "Nandini, I told you – it was a mistake."
"I know, but he doesn't believe me."
"Then make him,"
With every sentence, he was drifting further away, further into caving walls in the arranged enclosure that was bound on three sides.
And as if denying him from leaving me, I moved towards him, carrying on with my gesture that kept me occupied and less conscious from his unmoving stares. "You make him, you were the one who started it that day,"
"That's why we're here, like this, today..." I don't know how it happened so quickly, Babbu, but Manik's hands were casually resting on the curve of my lower back and I was locked in his hold, his frame in front of me and his arms binding me.
A rational worry–that things might skyrocket before I discuss my crucially cultured promise with Manik–stopped me from thorough astonishment at the moment of sheer intimacy. I resisted, "Manik, let me go," It was almost a murmur blanketed with apprehension on a low level. To be very honest, I liked the gesture–it made me feel desired, a sensation I was experiencing after a long time.
Manik, whose grip on me had tightened, wore on a proud smirk at my flushed features, a flush that he caused, "Say choddo mujhe."
"Cho-what?"
The lunch bell rung loudly over our heads, signifying the end to our lovely time in the quiet arena that spoke to our souls.
"Choddo... mujhe..." He elaborately pronounced after the bell went off for me to catch onto the sounds.
"Choddo. Mujhe."
"Say my name and say it." He demanded, a polite demand it was but string with some determination.
Lips of mine inherently curved. "Wait, is it a bad word?" Manik didn't react very positively, which corroborated my rising doubts. "I'll ask Mukti anyways to confirm, haan?"
"Confirm all you want, say it."
Steering clear from any eye contact with the man, I cheekily sang in the most adorable way, "Manik, choddo mujhe."
"Tch. Nah."
His smirk grew wider. So did my eyes that flicked at him momentarily and then decided it was a bad idea.
"Haw! But you said you will,"
"Not just yet. When can I see you next?"
"I can't today, I have to prepare for my Geography presentation tonight. Tomorrow same time, same place?"
⭒⭒⭒
A very lengthy update that was, and early too for my standards, haha <3 I hope you loved it!