Chapter 12

Sharini’s POV:

If you think life is difficult, try getting on a government bus to Chennai on a Monday morning at 5 am. Then think again.

The water tank is a nice place to hang out but definitely not good enough to sleep by. First thing, I barely slept, ’cause I obviously have to wake up early to freshen up and get ready. But the second and more important aspect is that, apparently you can get your neck locked in the same position you slept in, when you don’t sleep on a proper level.

So yeah, with the road works under progress, with the crowd of people crushing against each other, in literal sense, not the romantic way, and with the stinging neck pain, I managed, or rather survived living through that four and a half hours of otherwise a bearable journey. The only good thing amongst all these is the old man that sat next to me.

He kept blabbering on and on about the life stories of himself, how he was a poor man and struggles through hardships of life and faced different type of people, how he became a real estate agent and suddenly grew up the social ladder. He talked about his wife and children, how he supported them all to get a professional degree even though he was an illiterate himself. How his spiritual beliefs helped him lead a steady path in life.

Not that I was invested in the details, but facing him was the only direction I could keep my head towards for the duration of my travel.

The short Ola auto trip to our house (rented) from the bus stand costed the same as my bus ticket. I reached home at around 10 am, thankfully I had passed on a word that I’d be taking an off for the first half of the day.

I let my phone rest on the table, screen unlocked, earphones unplugged, volume turned up to the max, as the device blasted out a mix of kollywood, bollywood, and random k-pop songs on shuffle, while I quickly moved around, preparing for the day after washing up a little.

Packing up a hurried lunch, which is a box of curd rice and mango pickle, I dressed up in a black with red bordered elephant print saree. I oiled my hair, plaited it up and secured the end with a small catch clip.

Grabbing the keys to my scooter, I exit the house, locking the door behind me and pulling at it to confirm that it is locked, nah, for the added effect.

I turn to my scooter on the road, parked extremely close to the wall, to see that it’s been creatively decorated by the neighborhood crows and permanent stay friends, spiders. To think that it had only been two days.

I pulled out a worn out: dusty from the previous generations, a cotton piece of torn old slip that had later been downgraded to become a cleaning cloth. Grabbing it at one corner, I tried to wipe the dried shit out of my scooter seat, as best as I could without having to touch the shabby piece of cloth with my entire palm.

With a somewhat less miserable seat, I started my way to the school, my helmet doing its best to stay on my tiny head.

***

“Teacher, look at this!”, a little boy Kadhir exclaimed while holding up a small clay pot that he had painted. The school was recently done with the quarter yearly examinations and everyone was rushing in preparations for the “Report day”.

Subject-handling teachers were working their way to complete the paper corrections and creating mark lists, and class teachers were running behind the subject teachers to collect the mark lists.

Art teachers were in charge of getting the children to make various drawings, crafts and decorations that can be displayed in the school campus. This way, the parents and the children could be kept entertained while they waited for their turn to meet the class teachers.

Sharini took responsibility to get all students of class six to make clay pot paintings and that’s what is happening today.

“It looks so pretty, Kadhir. Very good!“, she encouraged the boy, gently patting his back and moving forward to look at the works of the rest of the students.

The kids were eagerly immersed in the activity and kept silent. For some reason, Sharini felt like she needed the silence. She checked her phone at times, just because. Definitely not looking at the messages from a certain someone.

She looked at two girls who were giggling among themselves, trying to escape each other’s paint brushes, as they tried to paint each other’s noses instead of the clay pots.

An involuntary smile crept on Sharini’s face as she watched the kids.  It was all good until she saw one boy sitting at the edge of a bench, staring at the colors in front of him, but never moving a muscle to actually try using them.

She walked to him and waited for him to look up. “Don’t feel like painting, Mani?”, she asked, trying to start a conversation. The boy maintained silence, breaking eye contact and looking down.

Sharini waited for a minute before asking if she could sit beside him. He obliged and moved aside, squeezing himself to the kid next to him. She picked a random brush and dipped it into a little bottle of white paint. Her skilled hands expertly glided across the surface of the burnt clay, creating patterns that aroused curiosity among the little children around them.

It was a small pot, so Sharini did not want to do too much. She just kept adding little white waves and clouds. She knew one thing. All that the boy needed was a little nudge. She moved her fingers as if her full focus was on the lines, when she noticed his timid hand reach out to the brush as he mumbled something.

“Can I try?“, he repeated, looking expectantly at the teacher who was now holding the little red pot with freshly painted waves, examining it between her hands.

“Okay, here you go“. She handed it over and moved aside. Like a flock of curious birds, the children gathered around as Mani dipped confidently into blues and whites, creating a look of a night sky and the ocean, and the teacher silently walked to the garden outside the classroom.

After what seemed like a while, a kid ran up to her along the corridor, informing Sharini that another teacher, Leela, was looking for her.

Sharini nodded to the kid, walked to the classroom to clear things off for the next class. She then went to the staff room and looked for the said teacher in her usual place at the back.

Leela was busily typing away into her phone and nervously chewing on her lower lip. A bright red at the tip of her parted hair, the glass bangles on her hands and the golden nuptial chain, all stood a proud representation of her recent wedding.

It was an arranged marriage and Leela was young. Younger than Sharini. Leela was quite reserved when it came to most of her colleagues, but with a handful, she was very chatty. And Sharini was one among the handful.

“Akka!!“, Leela exclaimed cheerfully and immediately went shy when Sharini’s teasing eyes shifted between her face and her text messages on her phone. The sparkle on her little eyes were adorable to see every single time.

Sharini was genuinely happy to see her shine like this. The same girl who was so nervous, afraid and appalled by the idea of marriage, now she was thankful that she gave this life a chance. She says she is lucky to have met her husband Ashok.

On their first meeting, both her and Ashok were almost in the same boat. Clumsy, fidgety, a not-knowing-what-to-say-or-do kind of state. But something changed in their dynamics in a few weeks, it was so natural, no one could have noticed how gradually they grew fond of each other.

Leela had a complete 180 degree twist in her thoughts. From being bewildered by the thought of sharing life with some stranger, to being excited to see a future and sharing life with Ashok, she never knew that such trust and comfort could be built over a mere six months. And Sharini had witnessed it all.

“Akka, there is something I have to tell you. Come sit with me.”, saying that, Leela dragged Sharini by her hand and pulled their chairs close. She did a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking their way.

“Akka I need your help. Please say yes.”, Leela pouted and fluttered her eyes as best and dramatic as she could making Sharini chuckle.

“Help you with what?”, the latter asked with a laugh, temporarily forgetting all other thoughts.

“It is his birthday in two weeks, and I want to set up a small get together with some of our friends this weekend.” the younger spoke hushed, lest someone hear them and spoil her surprise. (Drama)

“Why us, and why this weekend? Won’t it be better for you two to spend the time alone.. you know, some romantic date?” Sharini wiggled her brows and Leela slightly hit her arm. She quickly joined the mischievous glint.

“Well, of course I am planning something like that on his birthday. This is just a pre-birthday celebration to address our friends and family so that I can steal him all for myself later”, she winked, full on proud of her masterplan. Sharini laughed heartily, nodding in agreement.

********************************

A/N: …. New character. Thoughts on Leela?

In case no one told you, you are so beautiful 😍 so elegant ✨ just looking like a WoW💕✅

Pic credits: behance @ Pinterest