Clean Bowled - A story of two identical souls.

5.

Sanyogita

This new school was actually better than the one I was at before.

My family migrated to Mumbai two years ago. I was in junior high school, but considering my performance, they promoted me to standard one, skipping a class.

For one more year, dad let me be in that school, but when I couldn't make a single friend, he decided to change my school.

If one day I say, Dad, I don't like this city, trust me, he will wrap up his business and we will go back to Ahmedabad. This is how my dad is. He gives me everything I ask for without questioning, and for this school change, I never even asked. He just read me.

Dad kissed my head, making me stand on my legs. He loves to cradle me in his arms, and I love pampering. Sammy is mumma's boy, and I am dad's Sona. He never leaves me at school before kissing me twice, head and cheek.

Combing my untied hair with my fingers, I entered school. This school is really nice. It is huge, with a great compound and tall buildings for different grades. Building A is for primary, Building B is for secondary, and Building C is for higher secondary.

This school was built in ancient times. All three buildings stand facing each other. Buildings A and C are in the corners, and Building B is in the center. A wide compound, making them one.

My class is in Building A, first floor. Due to the wind, a few hair strands came onto my face again. Knowing my grimace, dad chuckled, correcting my hair band.

Mumma made braided pigtails today; they were so good and were looking good on my face, but Sammy and I started fighting over the blue tiffin box.

He wanted my blue tiffin box, and though he is in junior high and his school ends in two hours, Mumma still gives him a blue tiffin, just like me. Today, he wanted my box instead of his.

He always wants everything I have. If I wear red, he wears red. If I am drinking water, he will ask for water. If I am studying, no, he won't study, but he tears apart my books.

Copycat!

Yesterday, he got a tight slap from mom for tearing my English literature book.

So, this morning, we indulged in a fight, and he took off my hair tie from my pigtails. Mumma refused to make me again due to our misbehavior. Dad, being the hero of my life, separated my hair from the middle and put on a hairband.

I know he is the worst at hairstyling.

I was busy combing my hair and removing them from my face when I saw Prithvi running to me with Akhil running behind him. Prithvi was the first one to smile at me the moment I put foot in my new school. Akhil is his shadow.

Dad and Prithvi have developed this habit. Dad leaves me at the entrance of Building A, and Prithvi collects my bag from his hand and me. From there, Prithvi and I go to our class together.

Though he is the same age as me, my dad still gives him the right to carry my school bag along with my hand. Prithvi, being my best friend, never says that he is not my servant to carry my bag, though my brother always says, 'I'm not your servant' when I ask him to pass me a crayon.

Same today; Dad handed him my bag and my hand. He hung my bag on his shoulder and took my hand. His brows knotted on the forehead while he was smiling, looking at my messy and untied hair.