Melancholic Days

"Rishi..." I wheezed out of my siesta with a terrible nightmare, uttering the one name which I have grown to detest the most.

I dreamt I was being chased by a coyote through the school grounds with the face of that abominable human being. The coyote had already pinned me to the ground with his claws and was about to devour me whole with those fangs before his head distorted into the integral symbol and I woke up with a jolt.

It has been long since I had a dream about school.

Why him out of all the people?

I haven't had any solid interaction with him for the past two years. All we have done is sneer at each other while passing each other through the school corridor. We haven't even had a decent verbal fight in months.

I rubbed my eyes and stretched myself on the sofa while yawning.

Of course, it wouldn't be a good dream if Rishabh Singh Rathore is in it. I brushed the thought off by convincing myself that I might've been involuntarily thinking about him while solving my mathematics homework which I was honestly struggling with very bad.

He, on the other hand, was really good with equations.

He was good at everything, that jerk.

The thought was long forgotten and I had already sunk into the world of calculations before I could realise that the guy right then was just a block away from me at his best friend's house, enjoying his share of peace in the rainy weather in the neighborhood.

\*\*\*

The constant whistles of the pressure cooker almost jammed my senses, compelling me to bang my head repeatedly on the cushion. Cursing my Mom's bad timing to wash the clothes while setting the cooker on the highest flame—I managed to limp my way through the living room, out towards the kitchen.

My feet had gone numb from sitting in the same position for two straight hours and I whimpered as the blood came rushing back in my leg. I was used to this pain by then as I often forgot to change my sitting position, afraid of losing my focus on the book. I would sit around for hours, either reading a book or staring at nothing in particular if the mood was melancholy.

Turning the knob off, I walked back to the couch and settled down, huffing. I could have used that energy in solving the half solved equation, which had precisely eaten up two of my pages and is still eating up my brain. Math is hard. But not that hard if indulged in with proper concentration. And in no circumstance would I get the peace to indulge with concentration in that house. Peace was a luxury, you see.

I couldn't help but glance at my mother in awe who had two buckets full of washed clothes and was running hither and tither to manage a rope to hang those inside. The incessant rain wasn't helping us either.

Rains reminded me of those times when I was young and used to love the frequent pitter-pater. The black clouds in the sky would merry the heck out of me. A simile of peacock could be used for my state back then. I still remember the days when I used to come back from the swimming sessions late in the evening, watching the clouds circle overhead as my father drove his scooter as fast as possible and I clung to him with my head held high, as if I could reach the sky and touch the clouds.

Looking out the window, all I could think about was how the gloomy atmosphere would take me back to the world of Harry Potter-the dark sky, the smell of wet soil, the pattering of the leaves against each other and all the more, the ever so lasting thrill of the arrival of an unknown epoch. It still does make me feel certain things but the things will never be the same.

I turned over my phone to play Hedwig's theme which was always the background score of my life during monsoon. The rains induced me with the rush of going through all my favorite book scenarios.

He wouldn't arrive till the evening. I can peacefully soak in the pleasure till then. Till then.

My mother called me out while I was still daydreaming about the wizarding world. That must have had compelled Mom to put her work on hold and shake the daylights out of me because the next thing I noticed after zoning in was my Mom's angry face right before my nose.

"God! What's the problem Mom?" I chipped annoyingly, pushing her away a bit.

"Sanvi, Sanvi! What should I do with you? I have been calling you since God knows when! Where is your little head?" My mother shook her head and looked at me sternly.

"What is it?" I chipped, utterly disinterested and trying to shift the focus to the unsolved equation.

My mother knew, I wouldn't get up until I was being seriously triggered and the attention I seemed to be giving to the copy was, honestly, partly just to ignore her.

"You have studied enough since morning. If you don't have time for your mother, there's no meaning of studying so much." Mom poked at my guilty conscience, pulling the copy out of my grip and banging it close on the centre table.

Wow. Now I bet you don't hear that coming from normal mothers.

"Now get up and help me!" She ordered and I immediately frowned hard.

"But I just sat two hours ago!" I whined. Yeah, also bet you didn't usually hear this coming from any normal teenager. I had realized it way before that I needed to be different from other kids in order to survive this world. I had only my books to keep me company. They never go behind your back and you don't have to pretend to be interested in their boring jibber-jabber.

I didn't have the luxury to indulge in those shenanigans is what I used to say to convince myself a few years ago.

Finding no other option and considering that messing with Mom twice a day could be bad for my appetite, I resigned and started untying the rope.

"See, Mom this is why I told you that day not to let Rita off from work. You're burdened with enough work already. But you being the kindest person in the world had to give her a whole month off and that too paid!" I scoffed at her.

"If only that husband of hers came to her help, I would have gladly agreed. Why is she even getting so worried for that drunkard? He has ought to die one day if he keeps up with his drinking. People like him are worthless and manipulative! It doesn't matter if he is her husband or not! She has been suffering mute and carrying his worthless self as a burden. She should have left him to die alone." I was extremely annoyed at my mother for letting the maid go like that. Now, look, I loved my mother like anything, like any other loved kid out there with the sole company of her mother. Who would feel good to see their mother in stress?

"It's a life and death situation for her husband, Sanvi. Doesn't matter if he's a drunkard or the most responsible person in the world, he's still her husband. She married him because she loved him. At least one of them has to be reasonable in this situation. She'll be back in no time after her husband is released from the hospital and I don't have to work so much. Try to be a bit mature and understand the situation, doll.." Mom sighed and reasoned with me, ruffling my hair.

Wow. Now that thing sauntered into everything I did those days.

Well? Wasn't it a mature thing to look at situations practically? I most definitely thought it right to abandon people who become a burden at that point of time.

Rita wasn't going anywhere with her husband and she shouldn't have to selflessly give into her husband's whims just because the society has been brainwashed for it since ages.

I gulped down the immediate retort and put an end to the conversation. It always led to me getting proved as a completely immature girl in the end.

"Out of all the people, you are saying this, Mom? After going through the exact same scenario countless times since the past few years?" This is what I wanted to tell her but I couldn't. I was in no position to lecture her. She had already stated her reason through that discourse.

I silently kept on untying the rope and passing it to Mom.

This peace was indeed a luxury.

Rain, please rain, before the man returns.

Before the man returns.

I wondered if Rishabh had to bargain with the universe for his share of peaceful rainy nights?

Who was I kidding? Of course not.

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To Be Continued.

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