Love And Lies Are Red

1

When she looked deeply into her own kohl-adorned eyes, she forgot there was any layer of glass between their gazes. Her eyes were still stuck on comprehending herself when she was done tucking the other jhumka in her ear too. A tad later, her mother entered their room with the prayer plate in her hand - two incense sticks held by a perforated container, marigolds around scented lobans and a diya (lighted lamp) - and just when her eyes fell on her daughter, she had an urge of worshipping her with that plate. She resembled a strong and beautiful deity in a black lehenga with golden borders and floral embroidery on it, and jewelleries lining her from the one on her dark frizzy hair to the fat bangles sitting on her slender wrists. Her mother gasped in awe, and couldn't keep herself from labelling her as a pretty rose. Her daughter did not avert her eyes from the mirror. In her mind, she seemed like a broken vase of rose bouquets.

"Maa! Look at me", she said excitedly when her mother had closed her eyes and was chanting to the deity pictures on the wall. A few seconds of silence persisting with the noise of the overhead fan had passed, and then she switched her sentence,
"Promise me you will come to see my performance". Her mother touched the plate to her forehead and kept it on the wall shelf beneath the holy pictures.
"You want me to tie your hair, Arshia?", Her mother replied back, to which Arshia threw the comb into the drawer with great fury. One glance at her mother, and she knew Tasha Aithwal was a woman of her words. She would definitely come to see her daughter at the local dance competition, but Tasha had a dithering smile on her face. She knew things would never be according to their choice until they did not get rid of them.

The Aithwal family shared their house with the Singhs, of which Ghanendra Singh Saxena was Wasim Aithwal's cousin. The latter was long dead when his daughter Arshia was seven years old, and her elder sister Rafeen was seventeen. This family was always dissonant with each other, and never settled any dispute with harmony. Ghanendra's family snatched the supremacy over Tasha and her daughters, once Wasim was dead. Tasha was knowingly ready for her widowhood since Wasim was bedridden with his paralysis due to diabetic neuropathy, and his death caused the paralysis of Tasha's independence in the family. They were reduced to literal beggars for every little thing. Arshia never asked for a new dress because she knew the financial restrictions that were imposed on her by her uncle and aunt. Ghanendra's family got enough money from their US-based son Saurav Singh, and it all either went into their spendthrift younger son Shravan Singh's pocket, or in their own expenses. In which.....Tasha and her daughters were rarely included.

It was then only that Tasha did not get a minute to smile also, as Ghanendra started hollering from the hall. He and his wife Pragati had made Tasha do all the house chores, and the poor lady could never complain because she knew there was no home for her except this one. She was staying there only for one reason - to secure Arshia's future.
Because she couldn't support the aspirations of her elder daughter Rafeen, having her innocence lost in one accidental moment of their life, she did not want the same with Arshia too.

Ghanendra was grumpy for not getting his usual cup of tea before leaving the house. As he and Arshia strolled on the streets on their scooter to the venue, Ghanendra was busy speaking to someone on his phone. Arshia was irked by his carelessness on the road, and had to contain her anger anyhow. She did not have a say in anything in her family, neither did her opinion matter to  the two members of her family. The busy hustle bustle of the streets somewhat averted her mind from the usual ritual of quarrels at home. She felt another bike honk too much behind their scooter, even though the road was clear beside them. As her head turned behind, she had a jumpscare. There he was, with his gang on two identical bikes at either side of his one. His eyes were fixed on Arshia's bare back, the way her blouse stiffened against her skin and her hair flying with the wind attracted him such that he could barely focus on riding. And when he saw her beautiful face glowing with the make-up in that scorching sunlight, he had to be told to focus back on riding his bike as he was staggering. As Arshia's eyes met him, his wink was enough for her to be alert of her uncle's notice of that boy. All she exclaimed animatedly with her lips was,
"No Nuthvik, not now please!".

Nuthvik started whistling, and his friends were hooting along. Arshia had cold sweat break out on her forehead. At one hand, she was blushing that her boyfriend was following her like a dog, and on the other hand, she pessimised the turn of her uncle's head towards the gang. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard that roaring scold coming out of Ghanendra's mouth to shoo away Nuthvik's gang. She was laughing till then, until she heard him blabbering about her unnecessary participation in that dance competition, her crime being that she was a woman.

                                    ~

When the competition was over with confetti and claps adding to the grace of Arshia's performance, people were still recording her. She thanked the audience with her joined hands, and went towards the exit. The winners were to be announced the following day, and Arshia was hoping for the least despite her stage-breaking classical dance. The crowd started dispersing, and she was wandering around in search of her uncle, only to find him guffaw with pot-bellied men chewing paan at a corner, and contaminating the surroundings. She had to wait for half an hour till her uncle was done cracking up on the same old jokes.
She expectantly looked at her uncle for some compliments. After all, she also counted the number of times she was given a cotton candy at occasions or a new pair of shoes on her birthday. She still had hope her uncle could be a different person inside, than what her mother describes to her about him. All through the way, he was silent. On asking him, she got to know that he had not even recorded her performance. Disheartened, she thought that whatever she did never mattered. She was just an ordinary existence like others, nothing different or unique. It was not as if the whole country would know her name ever.

She stormed into the house with utter frustration. She couldn't believe how her mother could be absent on such a special event for her daughter, even though she had promised to come. A tired Tasha slumped on the bed, and gave an exasperated look at Arshia. Pragati had made Tasha hear a lot of cuss words, for the tiny tears at the corner of her eyes justified her suffering to Arshia. This was not the time to argue with her mother about right or wrong, Arshia thought.
"Maa", she sat beside her mother, "Why do we have to see this daily? Why can't we make a different world of ours, where we are free from all the distress? I hate to see you toil like this for me...". Tasha was unmoved by her each letter. Suddenly, Arshia's phone started vibrating with the letter 'N' flashing on it. She quickly turned the screen off, just when she felt her mother's hand on her cheeks. Tasha showed her a small smile.
"Have you seen any nice college yet? You attended the second round of counseling too, right? Any chance of getting one?", Her mother never wanted her to keep thinking about her. She only wanted Arshia to be carefree about her life and work towards a successful career. Arshia's entrance results were out, and she had a good chance of grabbing a reputed college. Tasha was suddenly thunderstruck to see pitch black tears run down Arshia's cheeks, as her kohl got smudged.
"Oh, my pretty girl, don't be sad like that! Look, don't get into adult matters. All these quarrels, your uncle's indifference towards us....this should not affect you. Okay?", She said.
Clutching her cheeks tightly with her large and rough palm, she darted her eyes into Arshia's flushed eyes and said,
"You have to get out of this swamp one day. You just have to be independent and stand on your feet, and then I will show these people that we are no less. This was your father's only wish, Arshia. At least do this for him, just forget about me. And think about yourself".
Tasha's fingers were digging into the skin of Arshia's arm, yet the latter dare not speak a sound from her mouth.

Arshia's phone started ringing again. It was Nuthvik dying to talk to her. She plugged in her earphones, and looked at her mother who backed off to give her daughter some time alone, thinking it could be a school friend. Arshia could hear Nuthvik's drunk voice and how he was blabbering about missing her. While Nuthvik was on call, she heard her mother say in a low voice,
"The more you stay away from Ghanendra and his family, the better it will be for you, dear. For, your uncle was the very reason why your elder sister Rafeen was married off at the age of seventeen, just when your father died. We had her age certificate changed to an increased legal age for marriage. And I know that I have left her scarred for life", Tasha choked.

Hearing this, Arshia cut the call immediately.