S8 39 Circar Express - part 11

continued from part 10     

                                                           

     (pic credits: flickr)

I stuffed my books & other things into my backpack while my mother tried to push some breakfast down my throat just so that I won’t be hungry, muttering, ‘I pity your future wife, guess she should also go through this routine every day, when will you become big enough to eat by yourself’ (I still don’t).

I may be an ideal student for most of my teachers, but after all I’m a student and this Mahi thing is definitely messing with my head. Wow! Mahi huh? ‘Dude, you definitely have an awesome imagination, you even came up with a pet name for a non-existent girl.’

                                                          

----O----

My idea of escape from this world usually has two routes — books and music. I diligently wedged my most important book into the front pockets of my backpack, the Harry Potter instalment that I was reading then, borrowed from Gautham. I took the book into my hands and spoke to it, ‘I hope you understand Emma, that no one would take your place in my heart.’ Emma Watson the Hermione was in a way my first crush.

'What the heck am I doing? Talking to a book? Something in my mind has definitely gone awry'

Having made sure no one is watching me, I carefully sneaked the Walkman from the wardrobe, which my parents would not allow me to as it was not allowed in the school.

Just as I was ready to leave the room, my Dad, in saffron robes, on his way to Pooja after having had cleaned the flowers with water, to decorate the gods, came in & announced, before going to his usual routine, 'A friend of yours is waiting for you.'

I silently sent a thank you to ... to whom? Never mind, I just silently sent a thank you, for my dad being in Pooja mood, otherwise my very prudish father would have smelled something wrong and would have discovered that I was taking the Walkman to school with me.

'Siri?' I ask, keeping a straight face.

Siri and we are family friends; she sometimes came along with me when she is not with her girls’ gang.

'No, not Siri, but someone I’ve never seen before.'

Well, it was weird; my dad has a knack of making anyone feel so comfortable and can connect easily, though sometimes I feel he talks more than necessary, the thing which I might have inherited. Nevertheless, there were some of my friends who I feel are friendlier with my dad than me.

Maybe it’s Gangadhar, although he and Rakesh are good friends of mine, they would, as a rule used to avoid coming into the house and lingered around the veranda (the front yard) and swing.

.

.

As I drew curtains and venture out clutching the shoes and socks in my hand, a shiver went across my spine making me as stiff as a board and I had to force myself to say something, because I was speechless. All that happened was real, not my figment of imagination.

Standing there in our front yard was Mahi, with the sun shining behind her and turning her hair a shade of golden-yellow, looked stunning, with a hand casually placed on the swing. May be this was how Veelas of Harry Potter looked like. Perfect.

'Interested in coming to school, dumbo?' 

       

click here for part 12 

S8 39 Circar Express - part 10

 continued from part 9

I happily went to sleep and woke up early the next morning, that, if you can call it morning, sometime between night & dawn.

The other times I wake up at that hour is when we would be going on a vacation and have to catch an early train, my mom would wake me up during those times, where I used to have a huge urge to go back to sleep in spite of the excitement.

This was different; I felt full of vigour & energy and didn’t have that urge to slump back.

I silently went up to our terrace & sat on the dangerously thin railing, taking in deep breaths of early morning air, which has a cool untainted rawness to it.

It felt as if the lungs were thanking me, taking in huge bouts of air. I sat there thinking of her. A part of me feared that everything was a dream, a pleasant, happy dream, which graced me just like the lovely breeze that was tapping the nape of the neck.

Yeah, maybe it was just a dream, because the day, which didn’t start so well ended up in the best possible way, something which doesn’t happen often.

I had decided to go for a jog just to feel good, after all it’s not daily someone as lazy as me wakes up feeling so fresh. Just as I descended to go for the jog, I noticed my cycle parked safely in our front yard, my faithful beast, confirming my suspicions that I was just dreaming, if it was true, the cycle should still be at school.

An unknown numbness crept into my body, eating away the previously felt energy as it progressed, giving rise to a sudden pang of melancholy and even before I knew what was happening, tears trickled down my cheeks, as I felt I lost someone I had known forever. 

                                                           

----O----

I cycled vigorously to the junior college, letting the gravity propel me on the downhill road, thankful to the hour for not having the need to apply brakes as there were hardly any vehicles, thereby making the soft morning breeze hit my face turbulently. I parked my cycle and started running in the track half heartedly.

'I remember her face so vividly, remember holding her hands, remember her embrace, is my imagination so lifelike? Or am I just getting mad?'

I settled down to peace with myself, no more of these imaginations and thinking of her. Just concentrate on the workout. The jog, it didn’t last much time, though, the first day is always hard, after some distance it became more of a brisk walk than a sprint. 

Just as I returned home panting, my dad was coming out to get flowers for his daily Pooja, while having left a vessel at the municipal water tap, which comes into our home, thereby saving us from the usual scuffles for the municipal water from the taps in the streets, which one can see, even more exaggerated in the Indian movies.

He eyed me suspiciously, naturally, for it was a daily headache, waking me up, undertook by both my dad and mom, as it took them several attempts before I actually woke up. I almost ran into the bathroom, saying over my shoulder, ‘went for a jog.’

After my bath, I stopped at the bathroom mirror, clouded due to the steam from hot water, bare-chested and just wrapped in a towel waist below. I rubbed a small surface of the mirror clean with my hand to check the reflection of my face, like I always do, but for the first time I had noticed a small dent in the skin near my right eyebrow. How did I get it?

I went to my mom and asked her about the same.

She threw me a curious glance and said, ‘You, true to your nature, couldn’t stay put at one place even when you were a toddler. You once had a fall from the turned over water cauldron which earned you that dent.’

‘What was I doing on a turned over cauldron?’

‘Indeed! Right? We have had the same doubt; high time you realized it. Anyway, what excited you to suddenly take note of it? You know what it means?’

‘That I’ve been an idiot all the time?’ I offer.

‘It means you’ve come to the height of adolescence,' and she added with an obvious hint of humor in her expression,  'And it might also mean that you have met a new girl.’

‘Haha, very funny.’ I said aloud while thinking to myself, if only I really met her.

Click here for part 11

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