Ansh simply can't navigate logic between the coiled grooves of his brain. Sometimes he wishes to be a woman and other times, he wishes to transgress boundaries of gender and become a synthesis of all the mistiness he feels inside. Feeling entirely...
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Chapter 3// Ansh Is Intrusive
He tried. He had tried so bad. Ansh blankly stared at the tiled wall. What more was he to do? Ansh violently shook his head to drive away unwelcome thoughts.
Later, that noon, Ansh called out Vinodh from the dining room. It was lunchtime.
To no one's surprise, he heard no response.
Ansh climbed up the stairs with so much caution. He didn't want Vinodh to find out. Vinodh valued private space more than anything in the world. Typically, as he climbed up, he saw paintings up on the walls of the passage that led to Vinodh's door. They were his own!
What was new and of course atypical was that Vinodh's door was open and his room empty. Frankly, Ansh knew too less about Vinodh to even know if Vinodh usually left the door open.
Regardless, before he could stop himself, Ansh made his way inside. It was his curiosity acclimatise of course. They say that you can tell the type of person someone is, just by looking at their room.
His whole room was like an identity claim. Like a complete contrast to Vinodh's personality, everything in his room was aesthetic. Ansh smiled at the colorful wall that had posters of random things- mostly animals.
Ansh noticed recurring pictures of the lionfish on the wall. It's striped and dispersed body giving the room a beautous send off. Aquatic animals were the recurring themes on the walls.
Ansh then proceeded to check out the study table. It was a perky design of zebra stripes and was made of wood. Ansh had never reckoned that Vinodh could ever be someone who'd adorn their room. He seemed so bland. At least, that's how he made himself appear to be. He wore white too often. Ansh had naturally presumed that his room would be plain.
There were scattered pieces of writings on table. There were books, some academic and some fiction. On a closer inspection, there were political magazines. Ansh was shocked. Again, Ansh found himself thinking that he had never pictured Vinodh as someone who would be politically informed.
If today was an odd day for Ansh, additionally, Ansh oddly even found himself tearing up. It was an odd situation to be crying in. But, more than ever before, Ansh had an intensified and an irresistible desire to know Vinodh more. Nothing was more hard than doing just that.
Or could it have been that Ansh was filled with mixed feelings from the realization that Vinodh was a truly inquisitive and intense person, someone unlike anyone he'd ever known. The realization was partly scary and comforting.
"What are you doing here?" A piercing tone superimposed Vinodh's usual turbulent voice.
Startled, Ansh turned around, only to bump into Vinodh's hard yet warm chest.
"I'm so sorry! So sorry man! Next thing I know, I was just walking right into your room. I called you and you didn't-" Ansh had paused to gauge Vinodh's reaction, but nothing sounded in those piercing eyes. This was somehow more scary.
Unimaginably, Vinodh drew his eyes to slits and searched Ansh's face discordant and tearful eyes. "Why are you crying?"
Today was an odd day, he'd never heard a single concomitant of gentleness in Vinodh's turbulent voice before. Today was just so odd. Ansh found himself crying more.
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