My first winter morning

One fine day:

I wake up at the crack of dawn, even though it's winter and it's hell foggy out there. "Ahhh.. That's a lovely morning out there Maa!"

"Lemme sleep Ashi.." Comes a disgruntled murmur from inside the blanket. Oh well, at least she responded. Daddy didn't even stir. I leave the room feeling dejected. I'd been hoping I could go driving.

Never mind.

I approach Grandpa. "Ahhh.. That's a lovely morning out there Grandpa!"

"Yes yes, it is."

Cool! Now there is someone energetic, and youthful, and enthusiastic, and…

"I know you're planning to go on a drive. Grab the car keys and a jute bag. I have to go for my morning walk, aur yaad rakhna, sabjiyan khareedni hain!"

Aww crud.

Anyways, getting to drive on the roads of Kanpur at 16 is a MAJOR consolation to the despairing of hearts. I snatch the car keys and walk out into the freezing 4 deg Celsius winter  in shorts. Don't be amazed, girls can wear shorts even when it's snowing. Anything to be sexy.

I step into the family i10 and turn the music up loud, waking up the entire neighbourhood in the progress, telling them that "I got a feeling that tonight's gonna be a good night!"

The day has hardly begun, and Grandpa's already begun shouting at me. "Turn the blasted noise off! And put on some bhajan!"

Seriously???

Like friggin seriously??

Still. Anything for a drive.

We reach the agricultural college campus, full of morning walkers "clearing their heads in the crisp, fresh air". Ya right! Fresh air, meri jooti. Most them uncles are probably gettin' over last night's hangovers. I get a few double takes as I plug in my headphones into my iPhone ( Yeah, iPhone5.. Don't forget) and lace up my Adis, and start running. Now, girls walk out of the house wearing their shortest-shorts with full haute-couture about them, but they feel awkward and disgusted when perverts check them out. Yes we do. Trust me. We girls, are a weird breed.

Half an hour later, I drag the weights (wellll, figuratively) back to the car and wait for Grandpa.

I watch him buy the sabjiyan and the fruits. How these people do that, my Lord doth know more than I. They know which specimen is rotten, which one is perfect, which one too raw, which one too ripe. They even want to taste the grapes. They know the price of each vendor, as if they are long-time friends gone astray, and they use their knowledge to blackmail every vendor. "Voh wala bhaiya zyada sasta de raha hai. Ye TERA kaisa way ho raha hai?"

The aunties pretend they know more about the sabjis than our Ramu kakas do, when they can't distinguish between a bhindi and a mirchi.

That is how I spend my first morning of winter vacations. The rest, I sleep till 12, wake up at 1 (one hour groaning in bed), never take a bath, and study in the razai. Everyone does that. No details required. The point is, NEVER try to be a morning person. It never goes well with teenagers. Even if we are close to seventeen.

Me.. Him.. And an inner voice

And I lie staring at the fan.. Thinking thinking thinking..

One hour.. Two hours.. Three hours..

Me: I wonder how he does that

Inner voice: Does what?

Me: Keep my thoughts occupied

Inner voice: That's because you love him

Me: But he's never been good to me

Inner voice: And you know he loves you too

Me: What about give-and-take? I give sooo much, get nothing in return??

Inner voice: He gives you more than anyone does, and you know that too

Me: Yeah.. I guess..

Inner voice: And moreover, you wont get anywhere in life without him. Nowhere.

Me: Yeah.. I guess that too.. But he haunts me all the time! Even when I'm sleeping! Even in my nightmares!!

Inner voice: That happens when you are obsessed with something

Me: Am I obsessed with him??

Inner voice: He is, after all, what you think about most of the time

Me: I really love him. But we aren't made for each other.

Inner voice: That's what you think...

Me: That's what everyone thinks.

Inner voice: You know that ain't true

Me: Hmm

Inner voice: C'mon!! He's your favorite!

Me: He is, isn't he?

Inner voice: After Bio..

Me: Oh yaa

Inner voice: Know what I think?

Me: Mmhmm?

Inner voice: I think you should stop obsessing about Physics now. And get to work doing something about it

Me: I love it so much ^_^

And I keep staring at the fan, obsessing about how awesome a subject Physics is.. How super-smart Newton must have been.. Why I can't get more of it..

Till it's 2am in the night.. And I realise I should start studying now!

Ladies and not-so-gentle-men, when you love something but can't do anything, stop obsessing about it and get up on your ass to fight for it. :P

Seriously. It's just Physics, not rocket science ;) :P

"Just another teenager"

The way his father looked at her, made Kate wish she was the one who had been run over.

Okay so it was a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes!! She wanted to shout out loud, but she just stood there, tracing patterns on the floor with the tip of her sandal and biting away her nails.

Kate, "just another estranged teenager" of sixteen, had run over a little boy of hardly five with her car. It was "just another road accident". She had been distracted. Well, quite a lot distracted.

My boyfriend cheated on me. So he finds that s*** better than me. My mom's divorcing dad. My grades are suffering. I'm growing fatter and I can't find a new part-time job. I hate my life.

Justified, wasn't she? So what if she had been "drinking-in-despair-driving-in-inebriation"? She was just a victim of circumstances. She didn't see the poor boy rushing forward for his ball. She DID step on the brakes, just a split second too late. And now he was dying.

"He's my only son," murmured the father, breaking the horrendous silence.

She looked up and her carefully highlighted locks fell back from her face. "Pardon?"

He glared at Kate. "He's fuckin my only son, miss! And you fuckin ran him o'er with a fuckin Chevy chick-trap! An he dies, I won't fuckin let you sleep for the rest of yer life, miss!" He had huge biceps and huger tattoos, but his once-friendly face was distorted in agony. His wife, a small blonde little creature rushed over to him to console him, all the while staring at Kate with despisement in her eyes. "You'll regret it, miss, if anything happens to him," she whispered in a sing-a-song voice.

Kate looked at her feet, her new Jimmy Choos.

Look! I'm sorry ok??? I'm fucking sorry! I know I shoulda paid attention! My boyfriend dumped me man!! My life is just a huge huge mess! I'm sorry. I really am! Just let me go!

But she kept silent, feeling so guilty that she could melt in shame.

Was Kate justified because she was "just another teenager" with her set of problems? Was she right in placing her excuse, genuine it may be?

As she saw a big, fat tear roll down the man's eyes, she realised she wasn't. She may be "just another teenager" but she wasn't justified.

All you have to do, is ask...

She looked about herself warily. The stares stabbed her like a thousand pin pricks. Suddenly, the air seemed colder than ever.

It's just September for Chrissake!

Never mind. She walked on as if nothing mattered. Head hung dangerously low, strands of hair fell loosely into her eyes, but they guarded the distress that radiated from her. She dragged her feet along the marbled corridors.

"Hey!"

She looked up to find herself face to face with him.

Shit! What lousy timing!

"Hey," she managed to murmur back.

"Trying out a new hairstyle?" He asked lifting up a few strands from her face. That's when he saw the tears.

Here we go again.

"What's wrong babe?"

"Nothing. I'll talk to you later," and she tried to walk past him. He held her back with a grip of steel.

"You won't tell me?"

"M-m-mom..."

"Oh lord..." He groaned and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Lemme go. Everyone's watching!"

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Why won't they? They're just jealous!"

Her mother had been imprisoned on baseless charges of having euthanized a patient without informing the relatives, when it had just been an allergic reaction to something the patient had consumed ignorantly. But the patient had been an eminent local politician and consequently, the doctor was to be blamed. The media was all hyped about the allegations and the public, wrathful. And through all this, she had to go to school, endure the disapproving glares, feel the abhorrence emanating from her schoolmates.

"You know it's not true."

She nodded.

"You know mom's not wrong. You are not on the guilty side. She'll win the case, babe. They can't prove her wrong. Some way or the other, she'll get through. You need to have patience. Your family needs your support more than ever. And if you need some more, all you have to do is ask!" And then he winked and smiled her favourite smile.

As they walked to class arm-in-arm, she felt more at peace than she had in days. And all she could think was

We'll be alright. I'll be alright.

Sometimes, life takes away all hope, but love gives it back. Sometimes, all we need to get through tough times, is support and a little bit of assurance, that, whenever we need hope, all we have to do, is ask.

Transition

"YOU can watch TV all day long!!! YOU are not in 12th so you think you can get away with this??? You think studies are not important??? And who told you you're old enough to watch Two and a Half Men? No, you CAN'T watch Breaking Bad. Who the hell do you think you are anyways?? Queen Elizabeth??? Switch off the TV and get the hell out of my room!!" I shout all day at my sister. It's become my routine, like a broken gramophone that's stuck playing the same record over and over again.

My little sister is a shirker. She's smart. Oh yeah, hell smart (she's got my genes after all). But she's lazy (my genes, I told you). She toils all day, but in front of the TV. She works, but on my laptop. Whenever I'm out of sight, she gets on the phone to chat with her crush or her equally ridiculous girlfriends. She tries on my high heels when I'm away, scrambles through my phone searching for clues about my boyfriend (As if!), and tries to mess up my just-tidied-study desk because her own is too cluttered to accomodate her. Sometimes when I yell at her, she gives me "The Evil Eye", the mean one-eyebrow-raised look I totally taught her. She puts on her earphones and ignores me as if I'm a giant, exotic insect. In-my-face. She tries to act cool and grown up, when, in reality, she's five years younger than me.

She makes me feel like I wasted my childhood studying.

Inspite of being such a lazy ass, my sister can still be the b*tch, still loll around, still have fun, and not get shouted at. Let's face it, my sister got a boyfriend before I did. :/

It irks me when I see her waste her time. It gets on my nerves when I see her getting involved with boys. I don't let her wear too short shorts. And I shout at her if she takes too long in the bathroom or on the phone, or if she doesn't study or answers questions incorrectly or doesn't do well.

She?? She doesn't give a damn. She treats me like shit. She yells back at me, retorts and acts as if I talk French. She thinks she knows more than me and behaves as if I haven't seen five years of life more than her.

She's turning into me.

I'm turning into Mom.  :/

Goodbyes..

The world continued as it was. People went their ways without a second glance. Trains hooted and so did the vendors. Passengers ran one another down in order to board their trains. A child or two cried here and there. The air smelled the worst it could.

But it had stopped for them. They stood there on the platform as their lives came to a standstill. Choices had been made, and the results had to be borne.

She felt a tear escape out of the corner of her eye.

"You needn't cry, ya know. There's nothing we can do about this," he whispered gently.

"I know."

He wiped away the tear just like he had wiped many other innumerable ones off the same cheek. This reminded him of his promise to do the same, for eternity. Had he only known...

Only five minutes were left for the train to arrive. She could feel goosebumps on her skin. "So, this is it?"

He hung his head low and stared at the floor. "Hmm."

They stood holding hands for a while. Neither said anything. This is it...

There was the pain of separation, the fear of never meeting again, the anxiety about their futures, the excitement of the new lives they were about to begin. What dominated, was the desire to go back on their choices. But choices had been made.

"You are going to a new place. Be a good boy, don't do anything wrong or immoral. Don't get into bad company. Eat properly and don't waste your time. Make use of this opportunity to the fullest. Don't miss out on your sleep, you know you get headaches," she went on, repeating the sermon she had so often delivered. He nodded his head like he always did.

"YOU, miss? YOU better eat properly. And don't fight with your parents. And control your anger," he retorted.

This was too much for her. Tears filled her eyes and she whispered," I love you."

"I love you more, most, more than anything else," he whispered back and kissed her forehead. His train resounded it's final horn in the background.

"Take care."

"I will."

"Promise?"

"Yes," and he smiled.

He turned away and so did she. No goodbyes. "Goodbye" is the worst phrase of all.

There weren't any people around, no vendors, no trains, no smells, no platform, nothing. Just the two of them, with their backs to each other.

He boarded the train and she left the platform. Neither of them turned back. There wasn't any need to. They were sure of their own love. They were sure of the other's love. There wasn't any doubt.

The engine blared, and began leaving the station. They still didn't look at each other.

Because what they weren't sure of, was if they will ever meet again...