Opposites attract, but is it true? Well, science proves that. But what about people and their emotions that have no connection to science? How, do two people who are miles away in their thoughts, and their actions can attract each other without batt...
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The initial years flew at an unusually fast pace. Before I knew it, thirteen years old me was already starry-eyed about seventeen-year-old Shravan. That scrawny, pimple-faced boy was filling up nicely. Now his shoulders were more prominent, his face was sharper and his voice had a gruff, masculine tone.
In these two years, we became inseparable. Every single second when we weren't in school was spent together. We had sleepovers. Normally I would go to his house to study after school, then have dinner together in his room, and would fall asleep together. No one told us off. Maybe it was because Nanu didn't know what to do with a teenage girl who seemed genuinely happy after her parents passed away. And for Shravan, I was the only one whom he was not flying off the handle with.
It was one of those nights when we fell asleep together. That day I wasn't feeling right from the morning itself. I was feeling depressed for no reason, my stomach was so bloated that I couldn't eat properly. It was maybe after midnight when I felt a severe pang in my stomach. Thinking I had got diarrhoea, I rushed towards the attached bathroom.
And I had my periods. I already knew about it. Some of my friends had already started menstruating. But there's a vast difference between knowing something and having one. The sight made me nauseated. I downright panicked not knowing what to do.
Shravan might have woken up because, after a few moments, I heard the knock on the door, “Suman?” His voice watered the fright, and I sobbed loudly, “Suman, are you crying? What happened, open the door.” He was alarmed, “You are scaring me, open the door.”
“Can you — can you,” I said between my sobs, “ask Nirmala Aunty to come here, please.” Shravan stayed quiet for a long time. I knew I was asking a lot from him. He still wouldn't talk to her if it wasn't absolutely necessary. “Please, Shravan. It's urgent.”
After a minute or two of silence Nirmala Aunty’s soft voice poured through the door, “Suman, I am here. Let me in.” She smiled when I told her about my period, patting my tears away with her motherly touch, “There's nothing to worry about. You wait here. I'll be right back.”
It took me almost half an hour to adjust everything. But things changed after that night. Nirmala Aunty was always on toes whenever Shravan and I were alone. Sudden knocks, and always asking about what we were doing had become a regular occurrence. Finally, one day came when Shravan finally lost it. “What exactly is your problem?” and I agreed.
Nirmala Aunty gave one of her softest smiles to us, “My problem is I want both of you to be happy.” She caressed Shravan’s hair, “When we are in love, we tend to make mistakes that change our lives. Make sure you don't make bad decisions that put your lives in shambles. I know you are sensible enough to understand that. Do right by her and of course yourself.”
Shravan didn't utter a word after that. He had looked me in the eyes as if assessing something greater than my intelligence. Then he nodded at Nirmala Aunty. She left us alone, saying, “The door must stay open.”
“What did she mean?” I sat beside him on his bed while Shravan combed his fingers through mine. There it was. A tiny spark hit me slowly through my fingers, through my arm. This was a new development that I still hadn't talked to Shravan about. Every soft touch, every little smile he would send toward me made my heart a little frenzy. I decided I really liked Shravan’s touch. It was soothing.
He sighed, “Nothing that I didn't feel already.”
“What?” there was something in his voice that made my voice hitch. But he didn't reply, just shook his head. This one habit of his I hated the most. Whenever the words were short, he would simply shake his head.
Just like he was doing it now. Shravan was pacing the place while shaking his head as disbelief and betrayal etched on his face. It took him almost half an hour to finally speak, “So, the girl who you were sending off to school today morning is,”
Oh! He had seen her. Was this why Pushkar told me he shredded the boxing bag? “Shravan,” a whisper broke my inability to breathe, “she is ours.”
Shravan heaved a sigh, “Does she know about me?” He finally looked at me. His eyes said all the emotional turmoil he was going through. But one thing was constant there, his hate for me was doubled.
I nodded, “She started asking about you when she was four or five. I told her that you stay abroad. But now she doesn't ask.”
A bitter cry left out of him, “Of course. I am non-existent now.” He chuckled, “It's funny how I always end up being the unwanted, non-existent one in everyone's life, isn't it?”
“That's not true. You know that. I tried to tell you. You changed your number. You didn't look back. I emailed you.” I sobbed, “You didn't come back, or call back once in these ten years, Shravan, what was I supposed to do?”
“You could have tried harder.” He bellowed, “You could have asked your beloved Ramnath Uncle or your Nirmala Aunty. You could have asked your so-called friend Aditya. They all knew how to contact me.”
“Is it?” Patting away the tears, I stood in front of him, “You think I didn't try? I was twenty-one, Shravan, unmarried, bearing a child, do you think I was having a blast here? You tell me. Whenever any of them tried to tell you about me, what did you do? You stopped receiving their calls. Ramanth Uncle went to meet you, when Sanvi was born, to see you rolling out of someone's bed. It took you what, a few months to forget all about me when you were satisfying your needs. And here you have the audacity to talk to me like I am some monster?”
I grabbed his collar, “Think Shravan, I was holding a day-old baby in my arm when I heard the man I love was in bed with another. Think what I had gone through, when every single person I knew made a crude comment about my character, think, Shravan. And all of those because you didn't trust me enough.”
Shravan stood there defeated, “My nanu died, he couldn't handle the humiliation,” I didn't remember when I cried like this as though all of my barriers were down, “And now you blame me for everything? When you were having your best time, getting degrees, getting jobs you dreamt about, I was having sleepless nights, changing diapers, running to doctors, all alone.
“You blame me for fraternising with your family, yes I do. Because they were here with me. Never judging, always ready to help.” I pointed my finger toward his chest, “So you don't get to be angry here, you understand? You don't.”
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Woo hoo! Finally, an update is here. Again sorry for being late.
A shocker for Shravan, and Suman our queen. Let's see how the story unfolds.
Last day of 2022. We can only hope next year will be good with all the news of covid circulating.
Let me know if you are lining the story. It will help me to improve.
