CHAPTER EIGHT

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The neighbourhood that Shifa lived in was not much different than mine. Except for the high amount of crowd and even higher number of girls included in the crowd. This was, if not the strangest thing, one of the bizarre moments of my life. Shifa with her jeans and crop shirt blended in perfectly and to my utter surprise even made multiple stops to greet some boys and girls. They had all asked her in a hushed voice about me as if they didn't really want me to listen while some only raised their brows in my direction and I saw Shifa's face stricken with unsaid worry. Perhaps she was embarrassed by me. I did not wear the same clothes; I did not walk with the same ease, and I did not know how to make myself invisible either. I watched Shifa laugh, the nervousness in it unable to hide and introduced me to them with a free wave of her hand, "A cousin." The boys and girls would end up sharing the same laugh. I kept my lips closed and when the person asking Shifa about me met my eyes, I tried to smile without parting my lips. They did the same, except one boy who gave me a wide grin and even advanced his palm out to shake my hand, but Shifa intervened before I had to put my hand in his or make some excuse. My heartbeat which had quickened the moment I realized why he said his name and jutted out his hand, slowly stabilized. The boy looked quizzically at me and then Shifa and an understanding dawned on his face, and he nodded at me. His smile was still wide. I liked him. And just for the sole reason that he didn't try to ignore me like other boys Shifa paused to converse with, I nodded back at him.

Shifa walked past a metro station and explained to me how I would have to remember the route, "But we still have time. I will take you to your campus area tomorrow and get you a train pass."

"Where is your university?"

"Within a walking distance. 20 minutes or so, why? Do you want to take a round?"

I, in fact, did not. My question was simply out of formality, but Shifa decided that after having some tea from a dirty-looking tea stall, we would walk for 20 minutes or so. The tea stall, just a few steps away from the station was buzzing with people my own age. Some had book bags hanging behind their backs and some had them in front and I found a girl wearing a cream-coloured hijab, talking to another girl with shorter hair than Shifa's, almost resembling a boy cut. A foam cup clutched in their hands, and I felt the pressure in my head lighten a bit. I wasn't the only one. Of course, I wasn't the only one. In the city so big, how could I imagine myself the only girl with the hijab? And when Shifa asked me to wait behind as she elbowed her way to the front of the tea stall and ordered two teas with extra ginger and cardamom, I didn't feel the same seclusion to be standing about a public tea stall. Shifa came out, her hand clasped my wrist and led me to the very back of the crowd till we were standing by the pillar of the station. Letting go of my wrist, she sat down on the floor without dusting and looked up when I didn't immediately follow her suit. I fought to remove all the disgusting thoughts in my mind about the place and sat down.

"It might take some time to have our tea. But I promise you, the wait would be so worth it. Harish bhaiya makes the best tea one can have."

I ignored the comment simply because the thought that she would say such things without having my tea was painful and asked what was in my head.

"Why are there so many students here?"

Shifa shook her head and her round hoop earrings bounced around, without answering me first, she took off her slippers and made herself comfortable on the floor, bringing her legs closer to her torso and crossing one over the other ankle. Her arms were placed above her knees, and she faced me with an amusing grin.

"Students from other cities come to Delhi to study, naturally there would be a place dedicated just for that, right? Camp offers many libraries and almost every big-name institution is here. That's why."

I nodded and thought myself stupid for not realizing it. I have walked all the way to the metro station from Shifa's apartment and almost every building had at least one advertisement board of some academic institute or private library hanging from the front or stuck with glue to the wall. And available paying guest rooms for students. If not one of those three, I should have known just by the number of tea stalls and cafes. And cheaply rated food stalls.

Shifa stayed silent and took out her phone again. I had left mine at her place. I watched around and found myself excited for no reason other than being there. Sudden energy in my heart. E-rikshaw drivers hollered in the distance and not a single person walked by without a destination. It felt odd to witness such urgency to be successful. To be someone other than the identity they gained by being born in certain households. I took a deep breath and Shifa's attention came to me instantly.

"What? You fine?"

I hoped my embarrassment didn't show on my face when I shook my head, "I am fine. When will the tea arrive?"

Shifa laughed and nodded, she hopped on her feet again and put her slippers back. "I'll go see."

Many strangers walked past me and didn't give me a single glance and I found myself growing more confident in my stance. I didn't stand out. Not as much as I thought I would and that was nice. To not stand out. Though a few did look my way and I felt stares on my back sometimes but not for long. Shifa returned within a few minutes and in her hands, she had two foam cups. Setting them down on the floor, she shifted her foot.

"Here. Would you like some biscuits too?"

"No, thank you. We still have to see your university and drinking tea with biscuits demands free time."

Shifa cocked her brow and with a deliberate emergence of a smile, she smiled at me, "So you do know the art of drinking tea!"

She picked up her cup and brought it closer to mine and I didn't have to ask what she was trying to do, almost on instinct I touched the rim of my cup to hers and she chuckled, "Cheers, I guess."

"Cheers."

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