One Cuppa Chai

°24°

I thanked my stars that the founder of my college or whoever she was-had her birth anniversary today, letting us scot-free off regular classes. Since my music class coincided on the same day, coming home and then again having to lift my backside for someplace else is too much effort.

Now that I had more than sufficient time, I experimented with Siya's cosmetics. The eyeliner looked like a squiggly line so it had to smeared with a wet cloth. But the kohl pencil, I could manage. I also layered some sunscreen onto my face like I'd seen my classmates do in the lunch interval.

It was usual in music class or so I thought, as I lugged my guitar on my shoulders and tried to make my way into the lounge. David was squinting at the notice board. Probably hearing my footsteps, he paused and looked at me.

"One second, don't go in there."

"Why the hell not?" I asked indignantly and he tugged at my hand and made me face the pale green notice board. Not much to see, monthly newsletter, state talent hunts blah, blah and of course, a long list of certified student bands from the institute. I perked up. The last time this list was put up was five years back when I'd taken the effort to practice the guitar and join the band. But the list had a purpose. These groups were going to perform someplace.

Inter-State Battle of the Bands, the gold lettering read and my heartbeat accelerated, we were probably a part of this competition and didn't have the faintest idea. I browsed through the list again, and there it was:

Kabir Bharadwaj Jha- Lead Keyboardist

Nia Agarwal-Singer and Lead Guitar

Ajay Kashyap

Blah...blah...blah.

I skimmed until the very end of the list and frowned.

"Why am I not in here? Don't tell me I'm thrown into some other band or something..."

David grinned, "Your self-confidence though, Shyla."

But of course, as I went through the list more cautiously, I still noticed that my name wasn't there even as a stand-in and to my comfort neither was Saloni's or any other sleepy guitarist from my batch.

I pushed past David indignantly, wanting to have a word with Kaustabh sir. Apart from him, there was also this lady in her late 50's who always adorned silk sarees and sat across the lawn with a majestic veena in her lap and her own herd of classical music students. But when I noticed that neither of them was roaming around, I realised that they were probably having a meeting with the others. I stood behind the translucent glass doors until I noticed his familiar 5 foot 10 figure sauntering out of the cabin leisurely.

"Sir!" I hissed, almost scaring him.

"What's the matter ma? Do you have something to share?" He asked gently as if I were a petulant little child,  "I wanted a word with you anyway. Tell me."

"Sir, I just noticed that my name is not there on the notice, you know, there was this monthly newsletter and I was just looking into it--Only my  name seemed to be missing, was it a printing mistake or--"

He gave me a cool, even look unaffected by my suppressed angst and tilted his head. I followed him meekly until he occupied a bean bag and gestured for me to sit next to him.

"See, Shyla when I put you in that band, I had a lot of expectations from you especially because you showed tremendous eagerness in that one month.It convinced me that you discovered your passion for music,  but now you've just gone cold. If there's someone who needs to move out and give new members a chance...I think it should be you. There's nothing wrong with moving out of the studio and relearning with the other guitarists you used to work with."