The Waves Whisper ✓

7 | archenemy

4
𓂃𓊝𓂃

I don't eavesdrop on conversations, but on that particular day I happened to overhear Shyamanand and his wife Jaya arguing. I was in the room next to theirs, sweeping the floor. The squabble between them wasn't audible to me. But I soon came to understand that Sapna, Shyamanand's only girl child and the second of his four children, was the root of the argument.

"What's the point in entrusting Sapna to manage the travel bureau?" I heard Jaya's voice getting louder from the other side of the wall. "She's a girl. She should be married off."

"You're upset that I gave my daughter the responsibility of managing my business?"

"You always pamper her for no reason. She's an adult."

"She is a grownup. That is precisely the reason why I instructed her to manage the firm."

"I knew it! Me and my son are always secondary to you."

"Godamnit! Don't raise your voice at me."
"You don't even like my presence. You're still in love with your first wife!" That's when I realised Jaya and her son Naman are Shyamanand's second wife and son.

"I don't want to argue with you." I heard him say it, followed by the sound of the door shutting.

Sapna was his dearest and most favourite child. I have seen him laugh only when he is with his daughter. Seeing him take care of her daughter made me miss my Kako. If he were with me, I wouldn't have to work in someone else's house. She was the sweetest and most beautiful person in that family. Her long hair, endearing upturned eyes, and captivating smile could hypnotise anyone. I always wondered how Apoorva and Sapna were siblings. They were polar opposites when it came to being nice to people. He never left behind any opportunity to taunt me at school. He always answered the questions asked by the teacher that I had already answered as a counter-response to annoy me. One day, the teacher asked a question during Hindi.

"Pothee padhi padhi jag mua, pandit bhaya na koy."Dhaee aakhar prem ka, padhe so pandit hoy." The teacher recited a couplet from Kabir Das' poem.

"Can someone tell me what Kabir Das meant by this?" He asked.

I raised my hand to answer the question. Apoorva, who was sitting in front of me, turned his head to look at me when I raised my hand.

"Many people in the world reached the door of death after reading great books, but not all of them could become scholars. Kabir believes that if someone reads letters of love properly, then only he will be a true scholar." I explained.

"Good Roopali. You are right." The teacher replied.

"But sir..." Apoorva interjected. I saw it coming.

"What is the use of love if someone doesn't have enough knowledge? Aren't knowledge and books the ultimate wealth and the greatest love?" He asked.
"You're also right, Apoorvanand." The teacher responded.

"But sir, he didn't explain the poem. He only expressed his viewpoint." I couldn't keep my thoughts to myself.

"It's equally vital to express your understanding of poetry and to pose questions about it." He replied.

Listening to the teacher's opinion, Apoorva turned to face me.
"What?" I mouthed, seeing the stupid grin on his face.

"You lost." He winked. I looked down at my text book to divert my anger, or else I would've screamed at him right in front of the whole class.

Later that day, a story contest was held at the school. The price of money interested me. With that money, I could buy everything I wanted for Dusherra. But the only obstacle was Apoorva. My stomach fell when I saw him in the same room where the contest was taking place. I knew that he didn't need that money. My hopes were shattered because he had a good chance of winning the contest. But I was determined to win it, no matter what. I did my absolute best to write the story. And when the result came, I won! I wanted to announce it to the whole world. My first earnings were ten rupees! Apoorva came in second in the contest.

"You lost." I winked at him. It was so satisfying to say that to him.

After the contest, they asked all the participants to collect their stories. But I couldn't see mine. I looked for it everywhere. I was on the verge of tears. My first story, I wanted to keep it with me forever.

"Calm down. Let's ask the teacher." Khushi reassured me. So we went to ask the teacher who had graded the stories.
"Oh, Apoorvanand took it. He said he'd give it to you." He said. Countless questions went through my mind.

Why did he take it? Is he going to destroy it? Is he going to read it to his friends and make fun of my writing?

"I'm going to find him." I mumbled under my breath and fumbled out of the room. Anger thrummed through my veins.

"Don't do anything stupid." Khushi said while trying to keep up with me.

I saw him under the tree in the playground, reading my story.
"Hey!" I screamed.

He stood up, seeing me flouncing towards him.

"Give my story back." I blustered while trying to grab the papers.

"Let me just read it quickly." He chuckled as he yanked the papers.

"I said, give it to me." I grabbed the papers. One end of the papers was in my hand and the other in his. He pulled away the papers. It was ripped into two pieces. My rage sprang to life. I can't recall how my fingers came together to form a fist. In a flash of a second, I punched him in the cheek and drew my arm. He fell down from that unexpected knock.

"What did you do?" I heard Khushi's faint voice behind me.

Yes. What did I do?

My whole life flashed in front of me.

I could get expelled from school. The Rathore family will be furious. What if they arrange for someone to execute me because I hurt their heir? My stepmother will disown me. Ratan would be fired from their firm because he's my brother.

There was nothing I could do to fix it. Nothing!

....

Guys, did Apoorva deserve that punch?