Her Splash of Color | ✓

✤ 1.2 don't be nervous ✤

Posted May 22nd 2018

✤ | Sanya- don't be nervous | ✤

          I run down the stairs, my mind in a frenzy. What was Rihaan doing? What was he thinking... pulling all that?!

And the words he said.

He missed me.

I was slightly hesitant on believing him. We never truly talk much. Why would he miss me? It's not like we are friends. Surely, he has tons of those around him. Why would he even think about me?

But then again... didn't I miss him too?

I plan to go straight to the kitchen but am halted just as I reach the end of the stairs by Riddhima aunty. "Sanya?" I turn to face her, still breathing heavily. "Are you okay?"

I nod pointing towards the stairs, "Yeah, yeah. Ran, so..."

She nods along as she looks back up towards Rihaan's room. Her gaze stops at the top when Rihaan comes out of his room and she gasps in surprise. "I had no idea my son could look that handsome."

My eyes follow her and to what Rihaan is wearing. Hmm... it would be wrong to not admit that. There is something about seeing him in Indian clothes. The sight is breathtaking.

Riddhima touches my arm to get my attention, "Thank you."

I shake my head, "I didn't..."

The look she gives is clear that she does not believe me. But, honestly, I did not do anything. I just gave it to him. It was his decision at the end to wear it.

Blinking away from Rihaan, she advises. "Okay, listen. I know you're fasting. Lavanya told me. So, just sit in one place and don't go running about, okay? We don't want you to get dizzy or God forbid, faint."

I nod with a smile and patting my head, mouthing 'thank you' again, she takes off towards Rihaan. I turn my back to them and resume my path towards the kitchen where I am sure no one will be there.

I hide in there until it is time for puja and by then, everyone is here so I stick with Kriana.

*✧✤--------------------------✤✧* 

          I stand towards the back of the crowd gathered in front of Ganesh deity so I am not stuck somewhere in the middle. Either standing back, away from the crowd, or being in the front where I cannot visibly see the crowd behind me: those are the only two options that keep my anxiety at bay.

As the aarti begins, Rihaan appears from behind me, out of nowhere, and stands next to me. I look sideways in confusion. This is his house. He should be at the very front with his parents performing the puja.

When I look up at him, he places his index finger to his lips in a hushing motion.

Then I understand he is hiding - no doubt from one or many of the females who might have tried to get his attention. It's no secret that he gets attention from them. Some will be attracted to him. Others to his family's fame.

I avert my attention in front of me again. Though I know the words to the aarti, I do not sing along. I just clap my hands in the rhythm while mouthing the words.

Seconds later, I find myself looking at him again. This time, in surprise, as I hear his voice joining the crowd's. I had not taken him to know the aarti... but he goes on to show that even if he didn't wear traditional on religious days on the outside didn't mean he wasn't informed of his own religion on the inside.