Her Splash of Color | ✓

✤ 1.1 don't be stubborn ✤

Posted May 19th, 2018

✤ | Rihaan - don't be stubborn | ✤  

          Standing inside my walk-in closet in my tracks, I continue to rumble through the hangers. Just having finished my workout and spending a few minutes punching the sandbag, I had decided to go shower but I couldn't find my clothes. Well, there was a closet-full, but I couldn't find the one shirt I wanted.

I yell out hoping to be heard all the way downstairs, "Mom! Where's that green shirt you bought last week?"

When you can't find anything, always ask mom. Moms always know what thing is where because chances are, more than half the times, they'll be the ones who have moved it someplace.

There is a knock on my door and I assume it's her. "You don't have to knock, mom. I moved the boxing glove. It's not going to hit you again."

Uhm, yeah. Not a moment I am proud of. It was meant to be a prank. I had hung it off the door frame to get back at dad. See, we have this running thing where we keep trying to pull one over the other. Keeps things lively at home. It certainly doesn't help that he has always been a prankster and being his son, ofcourse I had to follow in his footsteps.

Sadly, mom ends up becoming the unintended target more times than I care to confess. It is her fault, though, if you ask me. When she knows how we are, she should always keep her guard up, right? Wrong.

When it hit her in the jaw, she had been so pissed at both of us. She wasn't hurt that badly, but the entire two weeks after that, we had listened to every single thing she said to get her to forgive us. Often, we completed the chores before she would have the chance to remind us even once - else you know us teenagers. Parents have to tell us to do something atleast a hundred times and even after that, they have to end up doing it themselves because we wouldn't have listened.

I walk out of the closet and into my room with my hands on my hips, ready to demand. "What did you do with...?" I waver off at the sight in front of me.

Sanya.

It's been a week since she's been back and it still seems surreal. I have to get back in the habit of seeing her around at all times.

I end up blinking a couple of times to convince myself she really is here. Not just back in India, but standing in my room. In this week, we haven't gotten a chance to talk - not that we talked much before. Still. The entire week was spent at school and then home. I hadn't gotten a chance to go by the Raizada house and thus hadn't seen her.

Until this morning when she had joined school. I asked Kriana why she didn't tell me and she said she was letting it be a surprise. Surprise? No, it was more a shock. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought she would go for this.

It made me wonder... had US changed her? Was social anxiety not a problem for her anymore? She certainly looked different. A lot more beautiful.

Speaking of, my eyes travel down to what she is wearing. I have seen her in traditional plenty of times - always during holiday seasons. Still, the choli she is wearing today is very much different. It isn't her usual conservative style at all.

The navy-blue blouse is sleeveless with a V neckline and almost the size of a crop-top, leaving a lot more of her navel bare. Her lehnga is simple in its white form with layers and rich fabric, complimenting the minimal work on the blouse. A silver piece of waistband adorns her waist, resting over the tippet across her front. Her hair is left loose over her shoulders in her natural waves. She is even wearing light make-up.