2003
Akira and Katie had the best stuffed-toys, the worst
disputes and the most indifferent moderator, me. On a particularly sultry day,
Katie ran into my arms with a distorted teddy, sniveling bitterly. Akira is such a bitch, she declared
strongly. I nodded aimlessly, what seemed like an innocuous option.
Akira piercingly observed us sitting together at dinner
table. She carried her chagrined face and sat elsewhere. When the dessert was
served, Katie finished her helping and greedily eyed mine. Not while I am alive, I warned, with equally expressive eyes. She
looked away, disappointed and pouting. Remember?
Akira hates pudding! I hinted, daintily rubbing the pudding-orts off her
lips with the yellow bib hugging her neck.
Kicking random stones, I was rambling back to the dormitory
when suddenly Akira slid her hand into mine and Katie showed me a familiar teddy.
Akira told me I can have hers tonight,
she beamed, with bits of pudding sticking disgracefully on her lips.
2008
Smrithi was a tomboy. Anitha was a crybaby. As it is
tradition for masculinity to taunt femininity, the indifferent moderator was
forced to sit between and referee them in class. Despite Anitha’s extra red
eyes today, Smrithi tugged at her skirt, pulled her hair and stole her homework
sheet. No, today she didn’t sob. She yowled. You, yes you, go sit behind and don’t cause any more trouble, the
teacher precisely pointed at me. So much
for doing nothing, I snarled at them.
When everyone dispersed for lunch, Raj is cheating on me, ON ME! Anitha bawled, and rebelled to join
us for lunch. Extra food! Smrithi
celebrated, pulling Anitha’s lunch-box as she walked out of class. Hunger
obliged my feet to follow hers.
I walked Anitha to the bus-stop after classes. My
inexperienced lecture fabricated to convince her that ‘it wasn't meant to be’
earned nothing more than an unconvinced hug. She thanked me anyway and sighed, Wish Smrithi was this understanding! The
hug was distracted by the sight of Raj limping towards us. I’m ashamed of myself; you’re the kind of girl who deserves better,
he groaned with pain, clutching at his right feet, his pant torn at the knee.
Smrithi stood behind him, with her sleeves folded up to the elbow. He gave you a red eye, I decided to give him
a black one.
2012
Swetha, the extension of my intellect, partnered me for the event
again. We hardly wrote anything! You
think we’ll get selected? she quizzed, as we exited the hall. Don’t be silly, we always clear the first
round, I assured her. Jane will tell
us! we said in unison.
Jane always came early, skimmed the notice board for our
names and acquainted us with the positive results. Today, she wasn't at her
place when I rushed to class five minutes late. Second hour, still no trace of
her. The third and the fourth, nein. Who
was to provide me lunch today? I wondered. Swetha burst in with brine
running wildly athwart her face. Jane’s down
with Jaundice! she screamed wildly and pushed her lunch to me. She’ll be fine, said this indifferent
monster, lost in gobbling down curd rice.
Being Miss Goody-two-shoes, Swetha would never laugh at or
comment on professors even if they advanced beyond digestible stupidity. Being
the emotionally-immune robot, I was busily engrossed in counting my hair
strands while she narrated relationship-stories. In a couple of days, we knew we couldn't stand each other anymore; frustrated inside, faking tranquility outside, ready
to vent out hysterically and part ways. My gadget vibrated timely, displaying
Jane’s face. ‘Grls, I’ll cum 2 clg in 2
dys it smz. Its borng w/o mkng fn of profs wth u nd w/o hearng Swe’s romntc
strys. I knw u bth wldnt hv chkd ths on d notis brd.. u bth got slctd 4 d nxt
rnd. Cngrtzzz. Miss u 2 loadzzz.’
With spark in our eyes and pens in our hands, the coagulated
mutual vengeance subliming briskly, we dashed to the event venue together.
Like the old
magpie song:
One for
sorrow.
Two for joy.
Three for
girls.
