by Nikita Singh
‘Mum, I’m going to be at Harsh’s place,’ I call out from my room.
‘Why am I not surprised?’ she calls back.
‘Because you’re my mother and you know me?’
‘Because that’s all that you do after school.’
‘What else is there to do?’ I ask. By now I’m at the door to her room, where she’s lying on the bed reading a magazine.
‘Umm, let’s see,’ Mum looks up from her magazine and says, ‘There is spending time with your mother and talking to her. And telling her about these friends you go to meet every day.’
‘I don’t go to meet them every day.’
‘This is the fifth time this week that you’re going. And today is Friday. It’s a perfect 5:5 ratio.’
‘I wasn’t keeping track,’
‘I was. That’s what mothers of beautiful teenage daughters do professionally.’
‘Ugh, Mum.’ I emphasize the ‘U’ so it sounds like m-uuuuu-m and roll my eyes.
‘Go. But come home soon. Or else I’ll go to your balcony and start yelling, totally embarrassing you in front of your new friends.’
‘The real problem is,’ I say, ‘that I don’t even think you are kidding.’
‘Because you’re my daughter and you know me?’ Mum asks, tongue-in-cheek.
I walk over to her, kiss her forehead, and say, ‘Love you my weird, weird mother,’ before leaving.
Harsh is waiting for me downstairs. I have borrowed my mother’s concealer (although without her knowledge) and applied it around my eyes. I then covered it with a layer of compact powder. I don’t want Harsh to think I’m still having nightmares and can’t sleep. He doesn’t say anything to me, but when my eyes are puffy at school or I yawn while Michael teaches me to play Call of Duty, he looks at me in a way that says it all.
I tried to get him to stop coming to get me from my house, but he didn’t listen. Now I get anxious every time I step outside in natural light with him. He’d see exactly how tired and troubled I secretly am and give me that look he gives me. Hence the make-up.
‘Hey!’ I say.
‘Kalindi Mishra,’ he nods.
‘Why do you have to come to walk me to your place and back every time?’
‘Because.’
‘Because?’
‘Because.’
He’s not going to tell me. I shrug.
‘Michael couldn’t come today,’
‘Why?’
‘There’s this gaming competition in the neighbourhood. Let’s just say, he has gone to make us proud and bring home some pizza money.’
‘He goes to these things a lot?’
‘Not a lot. Only when we’re out of money for pizza. Then he goes out and wins some competition or the other and the money lasts us for about two months.’
‘Smart.’
‘I’d say. One must do what one has to do to fill one’s belly. Also, pizza is important.’
‘Couldn’t agree more. By the way, why do we always hang out at your place?’
‘It’s the most convenient for me and you. For Sarabjeet and Michael, it the same distance to each other’s places and my place, so the distance doesn’t matter to them. Sarabjeet’s place is out of the question because she has a little sister who is a major attention-seeker and never leaves us alone. Michael, well, he doesn’t like staying home so he brings his laptop and plays video games at my place instead.’
‘Thank you for that detailed information, but I was asking why don’t we ever hang out? Like out. Not at someone’s place.’
‘Oh, that. Worry not, Kalindi Mishra, it’s not because we’re geeks and self-satisfied, which is true though, now that I think of it,’ Harsh laughs.
‘Then?’ We have reached the seventh floor and are just coming out of the elevator when my phone starts buzzing. Ada. I reject the call.
‘Because it’s hot outside! Nobody steps out in the Delhi heat, if they have the option of staying home instead.’
‘Oh.’ I reject another call from Ada.
‘We do go out in seasons other than summer, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
‘I was just curious,’ I say, rejecting yet another call from Ada. When she starts calling, she keeps calling for like an hour. She has been doing this ever since that night.
‘Hi Sarabjeet,’ I say.
‘Hey, I’m kind of busy, so excuse me,’ she says, without even looking up from her thick chemistry book.
‘Um, okay,’ I say, rejecting another call from Ada.
‘Why don’t you just take it?’ Harsh asks.
‘Because if I do, I’m going to yell.’
‘Then yell. Yelling’s got to be better than keeping it all in. Let some of it out.’
And when my phone buzzes the very next second, I pick it up without thinking, ‘What?’ I bark into the receiver.
‘You need to let me explain,’ Ada says quickly, as if worried I am going to hang up before she has a chance to say what she wants to say.
‘I don’t need to do anything you say I do!’
‘Just please listen to me. I never wanted to do anything wrong to you. I supported you. When you told me Tisha and Sameer were having an affair behind your back, I was with you. I didn’t tell them you knew. I—’
‘LIE! You told them I knew. That’s how they know. You told them,’ I yell. Even Sarabjeet looks up from her book.
‘But that was later. You were missing. We needed everything we knew to find out where you were. And Tisha and Sameer were freaking out about Sameer’s room. They guessed that you knew anyway.’
‘They had just guessed. You confirmed it.’
‘I told you why I did it. And how does that matter now, anyway?’ she asks, sounding desperate.
And for the life of me, I cannot find a single good reason why it mattered that Ada told Tisha and Sameer that I was onto them. But I was not going to accept that. ‘I . . . don’t care. I just don’t care.’
‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,’ Ada breaks down, and despite everything, my heart goes to her. I want to make her stop crying.
‘It’s not that simple, Ada,’ I groan. I try to remember the reasons why I’m mad at her, to make me strong and keep me from accepting her apology. ‘You betrayed me. After I woke up, you let me think that Sameer was my boyfriend and we were in love and that Tisha wasn’t the backstabbing bitch she is.’
‘But . . . but you don’t know how it was. After the accident, your condition was critical. We didn’t know if you were going to make it . . . and then, when you were out of danger, we still didn’t know what kind of damage your brain had suffered.’
‘And you freaking took advantage of that brain damage!’
‘It was not like that! You woke up nineteen days later. Sameer and Tisha were there at the hospital every day to check on you, like I was. We were all worried about you. We thought you were not going to make it . . . those nineteen days were horrible. And they felt guilty about betraying you.’
‘Sure they did,’ I let out a dry laugh.
‘You weren’t there, Kalindi, you didn’t go through what we did. It was not easy on them at all. When you finally got out of the coma, and we got to know about the memory loss, they asked me to give them a chance to make it right and assured me they were not going to mess it up this time.’
‘And so you chose to become a part of their betrayal?’
‘I didn’t see it like that. Initially, I couldn’t tell you the truth because you had just woken up and I didn’t know if you were strong enough to handle it. And then, I was hoping you’d get your memory back. But you didn’t. And the lie kept building, till we got to a point where I just couldn’t tell you anymore. It was too late, I had already caused all the harm I could,’ Ada sounds defeated as she says this.
‘You should’ve just told me the truth when I woke up. Instead of introducing Sameer to me as my boyfriend, you should have just told me we used to date but then broke up.
‘I didn’t know if you were
strong enough to take it!’
‘It wouldn’t have mattered to me! I didn’t remember him, I didn’t remember our relationship. I wouldn’t have missed what I didn’t even remember having!’ I exclaim.
‘I know, but I didn’t! And then the lie just kept building up and I couldn’t take it back anymore. And you have to understand that I needed to stay friends with Tisha. Before Tisha came into our lives, you and I used to be best friends. Then after she came, she took my place in your life and you guys left me out. And then you lost your memory and changed so much. I didn’t know who you were anymore. You didn’t feel like you.’
‘And now I do?’
‘Now I’ve gotten used to the new you. But I needed a friend. It felt like I had already lost you and I couldn’t rat out Tisha and lose her too. So I had to stick by her lie.’
‘So you made your choice,’ I mutter.
‘I made a mistake. Will you stay mad at me forever?’
‘Yes!’
‘What? Now you’re going to hang out with the nerds?’
‘Maybe I will. I don’t need cool. I need true. And they are honest. I can trust them. And they’re not waiting for the old me to come back; they’re okay with who I am right now.’
‘I don’t have a problem with who you are!’
‘Yes, you do. All of you. You just made me feel like I was disappointing you over and over again for not remembering. You’ve been waiting for me to remember.’
‘Oh, God, why don’t you get this? We made mistakes. I was confused; I didn’t know what to do or say . . . and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,’ she starts sobbing again.
It’s not like I don’t see her point of view. I do see it, but I’m still mad and I don’t know if I can trust her or not. I need some time to think it over.
There’s the sound of something falling, and I say, ‘Hello?’ into the phone.
There’s a rustle, before Bharat says, ‘Hello? Hello, Kalindi?’
‘Yeah. Hi Bharat.’
‘Hey, how are you?’
‘Good, I guess,’ I say.
There’s silence, and in the silence, I can hear Ada cry in the background.
‘Just give her a chance,’ Bharat says quietly.
‘I need time. Tell her I need some time.’
‘Alright. You take care, okay?’
‘I will,’ I say and hang up. I don’t ask him to take care of Ada; I know he will anyway.
I realize I’ve been pacing around Harsh’s room all this while and Harsh and Sarabjeet have been staring at me unblinking. I slump down on the bed with a sigh. They don’t ask me directly, but they don’t stop looking at me. And they’ve already heard one side of the conversation anyway. So I tell them.
I lie back on the bed, legs still dangling and touching the floor, and start telling them what happened. Saying it out aloud helps me think clearer. Everything makes more sense once I say it. After I’m done, they do not tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. They’re just there. Like friends are.
Eighteen
11 MAY 2013
The next morning, I didn’t see Harsh at the bus stop. When I got into the bus, Sarabjeet asked me where Harsh was, so that obviously meant she didn’t know either. When we got to school, Michael said even he didn’t know where Harsh was.
‘Maybe he’s sick?’ I suggest. Or sleepy.
‘Maybe,’ Sarabjeet nods.
I call him, and the phone rings, but he doesn’t pick up. I call again. No answer. I get a bit worried, but Michael says he’s sure Harsh must be okay and just missed his bus or something. I nod.
What they don’t know is that I kept Harsh up last night. We hadn’t discussed the nightmares since the day I chickened out of asking Dr Sahani about my ‘accident’ or whatever. But last night, it got unbearable. I woke up, drenched in sweat, just twenty minutes after I switched off the lights and went to sleep. I was shaking furiously, and even though I didn’t remember most of the dream, the last fleeting images left in my head were of me running away from something or someone, naked, and then stumbling down in panic and falling.
My breath was ragged and I felt restless. I turned on all the lights in the room (we’d replaced the old ones with the others that actually emit light), like if I made the room bright enough, no more nightmares could enter my head.
My water bottle was empty, so I went to the kitchen to get some water. I passed through my parents’ bedroom on my way and peeked in. I really needed the comfort of human presence, but they looked so very peaceful in their sleep that I couldn’t wake them up. When I got back to my well-lit room, I noticed the screen of my cell phone was lit too. I picked it up to see a text from Harsh.
> All okay?
I responded: >> Yeah
> You sure?
>> Not really
> Another nightmare?
>> Yup
> Anything I can do to help?
>> Don’t know
> Come to the window
>> Why?
> I can’t sleep either. Let’s stay up together, till you’re okay to go to sleep.
>> You don’t have to
> Trust me, Kalindi Mishra, there is nothing more I want to do than stay up with you at night ;)
>> You made it sound dirty
> That’s just me. The effect I have on people.
>> You stole my line!
> And I made you use an exclamation mark!
>> Big deal
> I know. Now, kill some of the many, many lights, they’re hurting my eyes. And come to the window. Let’s stay up together.
And then, I turned off all the lights, leaving only my jellyfish bed-side lamp on and pulled my desk close to the window. Harsh called me and I sat by the window, talking to him. He had a bean bag out in the balcony and spent the night there.
We talked for hours, before I realized I was making him stay out, without even a fan, in the middle of summer. ‘Aren’t you hot?’ I asked, to which he said, ‘I’m always hot. I sometimes feel guilty for contributing to global warming.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Yeah, right.’
‘Well, it is cooler outside in the open, than inside my room.’ Whereupon I decided if he was comfortable enough, he could stay up the entire night.
I was scared to go back to sleep and he didn’t seem to mind, so even though I knew I was being selfish, I just wanted one night without more than one nightmare.
Now I regret keeping him up till 6 a.m., after which Mum got up and I started getting ready for school and Harsh said he’s going to sleep for just a little while before getting ready for school. But I can’t have everything. I’ve become accustomed to sleeping just a couple of hours every night, but I can’t expect Harsh to stay up all night and then make it to school too.
I catch Bharat looking at me, and when our eyes meet, he waves.
I nod ever so slightly in response, then turn to look at the blackboard. It’s the last day of school before summer vacation and it’s a Saturday, so it’s a half day. No one looks particularly interested in the lectures. We just want this over and done with so we can start our vacation.
Despite it being a half day, it feels like an eternity has passed when we finally walk towards where the buses are parked. Sarabjeet goes into the bus to leave the bags and reserve our seats and I walk over to the other end of the old cricket ground and sit on one of the rusty benches. I look at the school building and the buses and kids talking excitedly to each other, and I just feel tired. I sigh.
School is not half as bad, with Harsh and Michael and Sarabjeet around. There is a lot of staring; I’m the freak who used to be extremely popular, the basketball captain, and then I got into this mysterious accident and lost my memory, a part of my brain was affected and it altered my personality, and I had a fall out with all of my old friends at the same time and started to hang out with the nerds. I can’t blame people for making me a prime subject of gossip.
The thing about this part of the old cricket ground is that even though it�
��s practically uninhabited during lunch period, it’s not half as empty at the end of school. One half of the field is devoted to parking buses and the other half is now bustling with students. Sarabjeet said the buses will be about half an hour late, since it’s the last day of school before summer vacation and the staff always need some extra time to pack up and leave. I look towards my bus to see what’s keeping her, when I see a widely grinning Harsh walk towards me. He’s wearing the school uniform and has his backpack slung over one shoulder, and with the goofy laugh in place, he looks quite a sight.
‘Harsh!’ I exclaim, getting up from the bench and dusting off my skirt.
‘Kalindi Mishra!’ His voice reminds me of last night, and makes me blush instantly. We talked for six and a half hours, practically the whole night, and although I did not have much to share, given the short span of memory still present in my head, he told me all about his life. And we talked and talked and talked all night. Now I feel like I know him. I wonder how any person can actually really know anyone else without staying up all night, talking.
‘Where have you been?’ I ask. ‘Have you been here in school all this while? Oh, gosh, were you hiding out there in the bunking place? Without me?!’
‘Whoa! Easy, tiger. I wouldn’t dare bunk classes without you!’
‘You’d better not.’
‘Understood,’ he nods seriously.
‘Where have you been?’ I ask. I feel all warm and fuzzy inside, filled with all those delicious feelings like being adored and cared for and safe. Last night really changed the chemistry between us.
‘That is, in fact, what I came here to tell you,’ he says. And then stops, inspecting my face.
‘Then . . . what are you waiting for?’
‘I’m just wondering if it’s the right place.’
‘Just tell me!’ I insist. I can’t imagine him being nervous about saying anything to me. To me, it’s like he cannot say or do anything wrong.
‘Okay, so after last night, I went to sleep for a while, and couldn’t get up on time for the school bus.’
‘I knew it! Michael said you must’ve missed the bus, and you were up all night, so—’
‘Let me talk, Kalindi Mishra. Nervous human right here,’ Harsh interjects.