14th April, 2014
3:00PM
I toss in bed, left and right, and left back again hoping to get an afternoon nap. But you know how it is like, anxiety. When you know there’s some new thing going to happen, or you have some new place to go,or interact with unknown people. You imagine stuff beforehand. Like how would the situation be like and what you would do. Your heart races and your mind paces and there’s this spark in your eyes, that glow in your cheeks and you are wide awake on a sunny afternoon staring blankly at the roof. As streaks of sunlight twitches through the skylight and keeps vanishing every time a vehicle rumbles by.
3:20PM
As sleep totally denies coming, I get up to get ready for the English class. The watch tick-tocks away. I re reckon whether my decision to join was correct or not. Riya had insisted me to join. I was not really willing, first because I was too lazy, second because I loved my previous English teacher a lot, I decided to go mostly out of curiosity as to what was so interesting about the classes that would never make me come back according to the way Riya had convinced me.
4:00PM
A group of students are gossiping among themselves. There are at least fifty chairs arranged symmetrically. The sun has been merciless since a few days. And the afternoon’s humidity has everyone indoor. Yet there are students, despite, the scorching-setting-sun, gathered up together. I wonder whether it is Shakespeare or the teacher with undying energy that they love which has made them all come over. And then there’s me, who has never been to a group-tuition before. And has finally decided to join to learn more of the strange language that Shakespeare speaks and what his words actually mean.
4:10PM
I am awkward and have no idea how to pretend to be one of them. I see no familiar faces and my heart flutters. I quietly take a corner seat in the first row. Quickly glancing around, I check if anyone has noticed my graceless walk and klutziness (more of nervousness) that I’m feeling among a group of smart extroverts. I shift in my seat numerous times and wipe the beads of precipitation on my forehead (I hardly ever sweat) which is actually because I’m nervous but I can hide it as an excuse of the merciless sun today.
As I chitter-chatter with the girls sitting beside me and a few words of introduction with the teacher I feel less hyped up. The class has not started yet so I randomly look around; the curtains are pretty and perfectly tone with the colour of the wall. There are scribbles on the wall and I wonder how childish even high school students can be. There are a few prizes neatly arranged on top of the cupboard. I squint my eyes to read the words written on them-“St Francis quiz award” and then I reminisce what the gossip god, Miss Riya Mitra had said. Sir anchors quiz competitions too. Returning back my gaze I start noticing, staring, quick- glancing at the students sitting on the opposite side, facing me,-boys.
I don’t recognize any of them, there are no familiar faces. Riya had my ears rotten ranting about “The English classes”. So, I know who all come (girls) and how sir is (smart, witty, at his best) and peculiar characteristics of the boys. Like, I don’t recognize them but I know who loves whom, who has the coolest bike, who hangouts the most, who smokes, who is a crazy gamer, who has the most girl friends, the first benchers, the last benchers. Who are the dumbest and who, the smartest. I know names I know traits. But I don’t have faces for them. So I begin playing match-the-following in my mind. Among the first benchers, Stitik, Subham, Swayam, I know Subham is plump with that wicked-flirtatious-smile, Stitik to be spikey and Swayam, tall.
One glance and I could instantly match the names, traits and faces together. There is this boy, Swayam, in his adolescence, too tall for me, six feet(puberty loved him the most, I guess), with the school-boy haircut, who has been the utmost primary reason for my rotten tired ears. Not a single day has went by, when I haven’t heard of him from Riya. (Yes, they are great friends)
Even though he doesn’t know me, and I haven’t seen him before today, I know him enough.
I quickly steal an as-if-not-looking-at-you glance. Feeling it not enough for a nitty-gritty detail. I take another slow-stare glance.
Fair, dark intense eyes with equally dark sharp eyebrows, Nubian nose and the perfect-pink lips, stubble with a sharp jaw line.
He looks smart with a cellphone in his hands and his eyes engrossed in them. I notice the abrupt finger movements and assume he is playing games. He is quiet with sweat on his forehead despite the air conditioning.
He is wearing an Adidas navy blue tee-shirt with black denims and blue Adidas canvas (who wears socks and canvas in summers as such, I thought).
He looks perfect and smart enough to make any girl fall for him except the angry, very-angry, stern, changeless expression he is wearing on his face. As I am about to finish the slow-stare he looks up from his phone, suddenly, at me. I quickly look away pretending to have never been interested in him. (Bad Escape). At that moment, I think him to be nothing like Riya had described- hyperactive, full of humor, friendly, talkative.
The door creaks, disturbing my whirlpool of thoughts, I look away and there they are –“ Riya and Richa” laughing all the way in, calm and fine as ever. I could have smashed Riya at that very moment for desolating me. They take their usual places, Richa sitting close to Swayam and Riya beside her. They start talking to Swayam and holy shit, he talked, he laughed, and he smiled, despite his previous stern expressions. (Camouflaging). I think then Riya whispered to him “that’s Ananya, my friend that I was talking about” (as I assume from the lip movements) because, he then looked at me (not smiled) while I was already looking at him and looked away again.
6:00PM, At home
There were no real formal introducing-each-other so I assumed his disinterest in me and that we could ever be friends