The snow scrunched beneath Khusi's newly purchased snow boots, as she strolled down the deserted hallway. It was too early for any staff to arrive, still not 8 am. But being cooped up inside the tiny quarter was slowly suffocating her. The dull walls, the lack of any warmth, and the icy floors along with bed. She felt miserable.
"Aree madam, aj bhi app jaldi aa gaye?" The janitor asked, shoving snow off the hallway with a shovel, sweating profusely even in the chilly weather.
(Ma'am, you're early today too?)
Khusi passed him a wry smile, before walking inside the staff room. There was just another man present in the room. He was in his early 50s and Mathematics teacher, one of the seniors.
"Good Morning Ms. Mukherjee." He passed her a curt nod before sitting down on his chair, going through some papers.
"Morning," Khusi mumbled, taking out her schedule for the day from the drawer. Atleast in the school she could occasionally speak with someone. Back at the quater, the wooden walls were only her companion.
Her heart was numb along with her fingers, as Khusi checked her scheduled with emotionless eyes. It had been 6 weeks she was living in the town, and she was hating it. Everything. Starting from the people to the weather. She hated changes in her life, hated new things and Shimla was on top of that now.
The quater building remained pretty much unoccupied, most of the teachers being local. There were one or two teachers living there probably, but not on her floor.
The bell rang as she saw several other people walking inside the staff room, some of them of Khusi's age. They blatantly ignored Khusi as she tried to give them a smile, and gathered at the set of tables in the corner of the room, gossiping.
This was how it had been since the day they discovered she was divorced. As if it was a crime to be a divorcee. In the beginning they were far more welcoming, two of them even took the initiative to talk to Khusi on their own. It was all going good, until Khusi disclosed that piece of information to one of her colleagues.
Khusi turned her neck back to stare at the man who had turned, whatever chances she had to make friends in the town, to zero. Rajeev.
It had been her 4th week in the school and since the very first day Rajeev had been her constant companion there. Showing her every nook and corner of the school, accompanying her during lunch, helping her with the introduction to the staffs, a constant friend since the day she walked inside the school very first time.
"So, why don't you smile often Khusi? I would love to see that lovely smile more often Khusi?" Rajeev nudged Khusi with his shoulder, munching on a burger, as they sat beside each other in the school cafeteria. They had a period off together so decided to eat something.
"I don't feel like smiling." Khusi didn't say much since the day Bhaskar broke her trust. Though she had been trying to fit into the reality of her current situations, in every way possible, it was difficult for her.
"No honestly Khusi. You look pretty when you smile." Rajeev tired to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, but Khusi pulled back, blinking fast. Any kind of physical contact was uncomfortable for her.
"Um ... I would, when the right time would come." Khusi said, sighing heavily. Rajeev's hand was still up in air and it didn't go unnoticed by Khusi.
Rajeev slapped his palm on the table a little heavily, rubbing his face. Khusi eyed him, confused at what happened. He looked impatient.
"Um, listen Khusi. I can't keep this inside me anymore." Rajeev grasped Khusi's hand out of nowhere and she was too shocked to pull it back.
YOU ARE READING
Not Her
Romantika"I don't want to become a mother." This line is a taboo for women in some parts of the world, and so was for Khusi Mukherjee. At the age of 25, independent and single, she wanted to live her life according to her rules. But everything changed when...
