Poetic Sensibility

08- Shivers And Interviewers

        The thought of Rishi invading her personal space and entering her home terrified Kiara. Her fear quickly turned into anger and then guilt. He was only offering to help. But that didn't mean she had to like it. Her mother, however, was singing a different tune. She was on cloud nine that one of Kiara's "friends" was coming over. Something that NEVER happened. Another wave of guilt took over as Kiara thought about her mother. Outgoing, friendly and everyone's go-to person, she was the opposite of Kiara. Having a shy, introverted daughter was something she was possibly struggling to come to terms with. Yet she said nothing. Rishi's visit must mean so much to her, she thought. Even if she did jump to the wrong conclusion. Kiara promised to try her best to be... normal.

        The doorbell rang and Kiara pushed down the urge to lock herself in her bedroom. She walked over to the door and opened it. She offered Rishi a weak smile who walked in with cool assurance. If only she felt that way about herself. Shaking her head to get rid of all the usual self-deprecation, she introduced him to her mother. Her mother greeted him effusively, as if they were long lost friends. Kiara couldn't help but smile at her mother's delight. She really ought to invite people over. But for that she'd have to meet people. And talk to them. And be nice and say all kinds of silly things to please them. She shuddered at the ordeal. One thing at a time, she reprimanded herself. Let's get done with him first.

        Rishi asked her where would they be preparing and Kiara indicated to the area of the living room that was separated by a partition wall. Years ago, after Kiara's father had passed away, they had converted that what used to be his bar and bar-seating area to a small study. A sturdy bookshelf took up one wall and there was a medium sized wooden desk adjacent to it. Rishi took a seat on the chair behind the desk and Kiara sat opposite him, resisting the temptation to bolt to her room for the second time. He looked at her with what seemed like curiosity but then why would anyone be curious about her? She had laid out her resume and a notepad on the desk so she wouldn't have to fly off to her room to fetch anything. She feared that once she entered the room, she wouldn't come out.

        Rishi began with the usual questions they would ask when an interview began. He asked her to introduce herself, which was practically the hardest thing to do. She fumbled too often and her head began to ache. She felt as if she had run a marathon and it had only been 10 minutes. Sensing her discomfort, which made her beetroot red, Rishi tried to put her at ease by explaining how she could better her answers and giving her anecdotes about the interviews that he had messed up. This was one of the few times where she didn't have to force herself to smile in the company of another person. She didn't know whether she should be relieved or hysterical.

        In between their prep, Kiara had often winced and frozen up before answering some questions. Rishi hadn't commented on it. He had waited patiently for her answer but she knew what he must be thinking. How was it that she could comfortably recite her poems at the gathering and be so mortified here? She feared that he would see her as conceited and arrogant. And there was nothing she could do to stop him from thinking that. He didn't know that it would take hours and hours of prep before she could actually recite the poem at the gathering and that Sarah's presence was a huge comfort. He also probably didn't know that Sarah had introduced Romi to her weeks before the poetry sessions started so that she could be comfortable around her. She was terrified when she imagined what he would think of that.

        The faux interview went on for another hour or so as Rishi tried to cover all bases. Kiara excused herself to answer the phone and when she returned, she froze. It looked like Kiara's mother had given him Kiara's notebook filled with poems and songs and doodles to pass his time while she returned. How long had she been gone? Kiara shook with... rage? fear? Rishi looked up and saw her. He nodded towards the notebook and exclaimed, "This is really good stuff!"

        Trying her best to compose herself, she gingerly plucked the notebook from his hands and put it in one of the cabinets of her shelf. Thankfully, she had stopped shaking. Rishi frowned and asked, "What's wrong?"

She did her best to not sound mean or offending, "That was private."

"Okay, I apologize," Rishi replied, "But it was still really good. You have so many poems at your disposal. And really well-written ones! Why didn't you bring one of them at the last session to read?"

        Kiara's insides went straight into panic mode. She couldn't tell him how she would practise reciting them before her mother and urge her to ask all kinds of questions to cover the bases. She didn't want to be surprised during the session with a question she hadn't already answered before her mother. Not for the first time, Kiara was thankful that her mother was slow at poetry. She would ask too many questions about everything and Kiara was more than pleased about answering them.

"I... uhh... I didn't feel like it," she replied shakily.

        She'd rather he believed her to be an eccentric artist than another individual who was so embarrassed about their work that they needed a million reassurances. However, seeing the look on his face, she knew he didn't believe that for a millisecond. Had he figured it out? The thought sent chills down her spine. He was surely going to think of her as a silly girl who can't get over her embarrassment. She was a weakling.

        Thankfully, he didn't argue with her. They sat back down and finished the last few steps of the interview. He asked her if she felt slightly more confident about giving an interview now. She nodded and thanked him for his help. He then inquired about the company that had interviewed her and asked if she had been called back. Keeping her face as neutral as possible, she answered that they hadn't. He then advised her to not give up and offered to help her any time she liked. He told her that she could even call him on his phone the day before the interview so they could do a last minute brush up. Warmth spread through her as she realized that he really meant it. Thanking him again, she saw him to the door. He said goodbye to her mother and left.

        She sagged on the couch with relief after his departure. However, it hadn't been as bad as she had feared. He could be excellent company. She doubted he thought the same of her. For some reason, that made her despondent. She walked over to the shelf cabinet and took out her notebook. Opening to a blank page, she decided to write a verse. What about, she wondered. The answer came to her almost immediately.