Pushing the quilt off her body, Khusi sat up, squinting her eyes to adjust her vision. She couldn't remember when she fell asleep. Fatigue from her 15 hours long journey and the cleaning definitely took a grip of her last night, as she looked down the bed. A box of pizza and coke was sprawled on the carpet floor.
Rubbing her face, she quickly threw her hair up in a messy ponytail, and did her morning business. It was Sunday, so she had the whole day to herself before the classes start from the next day. Deciding not to sulk inside the home and wallow herself in self-pity, she grabbed a baggy light cardigan and matched it with a pair of skinny jeans. It was pleasantly sunny outside, but the temperature was below 15°C, though it was mid May. Needless to say, winter still was Khusi's favorite time of the year.
It took her 30 minutes to locate the local market of the town, which was closest to her residence. She was craving for some homemade chicken curry and rice, and was definitely not up for having lunch at a restaurant. The refrigerator was empty, obviously, due to the lack of human existence in the house for more than a decade.
Making a list in her phone, she grabbed the necessary items, making sure to keep her budget low. She was in front of the vegetable store waiting for the shopkeeper to give her items she asked for, when a commotion broke down a few yard away from her, in front of a convenience store.
She quickly ran outside to see two terrifyingly tall men, dressed in black shirts beating up a poor middle aged man. Her eyes widened as one of them punched the man straight on his face and he fell down on the ground with a thud, blood dripping down his nose.
"Be careful bastard. Do you even know how much this car costs!? How dare you lean on it!?" One of the black shirt men kicked the old man's side and he curled up in a fetal position, whimpering in pain.
As if on autopilot mode, she was just about to stride up to them, a protest on the tip of her tongue, when a hand clutched her wrist. She swiftly turned her head back, glaring down at the stranger when her eyes stopped on a short hijabi.
"Don't intrude in matters you have no business in," she warned eyeing the felons.
"Are you serious? Can't you see they are beating him up." Khusi was flabbergasted at the girl's words. A crowd had formed in the market, everyone's gaze fixed at the scene, but no one dared to step up.
"Trust me when I say this, but it's better if they don't know you. You don't look like you're from here and you don't want to be on the bad side of that man ever, if you want to live in this town."
"Who?" Khusi demanded, curious at the girl's trepidations for her. They were practically strangers.
"Him." Khusi turned back to look at the direction the girl was pointing at. A man dressed in a black three piece suit walked out of the convenience store, his face intimidatingly cold, a small boy behind him, clutching a plastic bag. The men in the black shirts quickly took the plastic bag from the little boy's hands and opened the back door for the two of them.
The SUV drove away, leaving behind a group of murmuring crowd. Khusi snatched her hand away from the girl's grip and glared down at her.
"Why the hell did you stop me and who the hell was that!?"
The girl smiled wryly at Khusi. "I knew you weren't from here. Or else you wouldn't be asking that question. Stay here for 2 weeks, you will get to know him soon enough. Just don't get noticed by him." Saying that, the girl ambled away, leaving back a perplexed Khusi staring at the retreating crowd.
*******
"Good Morning teacher ... " the whole class drawled the greeting musically as Khusi strode inside the colorful classroom, decorated with drawings of the student all around the wall.
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...
