A Storm on the Mountain

CHAPTER VIII

He inhabited very little room in the world.

Aanav had always been a quiet child, everyone's favorite. He was pampered and favored mostly because he preferred not to talk back- or talk at all. Till the moment he felt resentment towards his family, his vocabulary was pretty limited to papa, mama, Aarav, sorry, thank you, yes, no and OK. Initially, they were worried whether he had health issues that was holding him off. But the doctors said, "No! Nothing at all! He's good! All good!" Then they'd turn to him and pat his shoulders saying, "Good. Good?"

The silence eventually grew less awkward, more peaceful to others in the family. He didn't cry a lot, not in front of anyone at least. The quietness became barely noticeable, until he himself vanished as a young boy, even though he sat in corners, behind the chairs or couches, under the tables or just sleeping in bed. If anything, he preferred his own silence- as much of a black night, for there was a deep desire to somehow counter the constant, growing, pinching bickering that echoed throughout the walls of the receptacle. He was never really into being outside all the time, if he preferred, he'd stay home all day.

But outside provided him with comfort, the hug of warm, spring winds. He lurked around the tiny garden of the building, his young feet hopping more than running, like a baby kangaroo newly out of it's mother's pouch. He smiled at the ghost-silence of the of the nature, the buzzing of bees and flies, the romantic gestures of blue hydrangeas. The burbling of the rain in the clouds above always excited him, even as a young boy.

He'd learned to blend into the surroundings, as a chameleon hiding in trees or grass or on the ground. Gardens, shops, library, school, home. His silence made him even more unnoticeable, bumping and stumbling into people.

After all those years, he was back.

It didn't smell of petrichor here, but rather of smoke, dust and the delicate fragrance of sewage mingled with perhaps what smelled of dead rats. The other places he passed by in a taxi whose air conditioning were broken, smelt of plain vehicle fumes and burnt plastic or rubber- so severely that almost every person on motorbikes were donning a facial mask. But none of this was strange to him. If anything, these were the things that made his lungs swell in memory, his eyes squinting due to the heat that raised the green house effects of the place.

He sighed, looking outside the window with a frown. There was no enjoyment in these surroundings. There was nothing entertaining, or dazzling or just earthy about this place. It smelt nothing like home. It didn't feel like home. He realized, that the only true way to appreciate a place is to go far away.

Every inch in the traffic that progressed, was every second he was coming closer to reflecting what he was. Thoughts of his father and brother and his step-mother kept creeping into his mind, but he brushed them away. Not yet, he muttered under his breath. The taxi driver then looked into the mirror that dangled from the broken roof of the car, taking a glance at Aanav with his deep brown eyes, perhaps judging or just plainly checking. Aanav didn't bother.

Soon, they passed by a very familiar place that Aanav couldn't help but smile. It was the school he and Aarav had attended as children. Outside the school building stood many stalls of treats that they'd munch before and after classes. It smelled so terrific, for once he had to close his eyes delicately and his chin rose whether he realized it or not. Many students were standing by those stalls, galloping snacks- deep fried pastries, sandwiches, sweets, ice-creams. Further by the street, more students were walking- some to their homes, others to the bus station or taxi-stands nearby to get home. Few of them may even go out for supper, like his friends did. A group of girls played with their hands clapping onto each others, singing songs, in their dirty and sweaty uniforms. Right after the school, was a wide military-ground. At times it was used for trainings, but was mostly permitted to the school to occupy, for providing sports facilities to it's students. Like his brother did years ago, there were children there playing football, on some distance others were playing badminton.