“So, what do you like to do as a hobby, Aalo?” Mister Rakesh asked, nodding at her.
Aalo held the handles of the bicycle steady as it bumped over another gravel on the road. Post monsoon potholes hadn’t been repaired yet in their locality and roads were in bad conditions.
“I like to draw and I like to write,” she said cheerfully. Over one hour, Aalo had gotten close with Mister Rakesh. He had a different kind of charm. But just as her home drew closer, she was filled with a fear that this might be the last time she would be seeing this man. He might not want to stay in her life anymore if he knew who she was.
“Wow, what do you write?” Mister Rakesh asked again, moving to her right side, as they hit the left footpath of the big bus road.
“Poems,” Aalo replied concisely, still lost in her thoughts.
“Will you show me once we get to your home? Only if your Maa and Baba allow me that is,” he laughed at his own joke.
“I don’t have a Baba,” Aalo said shortly.
“Oh!” Mister Rakesh went silent.
Aalo thought she might cry, but the tears didn’t come. Somehow discovering Mister Rakesh had closed those floodgates. She couldn’t say that she didn’t have a father. It was just a matter of time now before she would know if her father wanted her. She felt as if she was growing up too fast- faster than she wanted to.
“Well, we can still see your poems,” Mister Rakesh broke the silence, as she pointed to the main leading up to their alley.
Mister Rakesh’s face drained of colour as he looked at that little narrow lane with a single lamp flickering in and out, like lightning cracking in the sky. Hundreds of little insects had crowded around the lamppost and stained it black with their carcasses. A few were still fluttered around. Aalo sometimes wondered why they would ever come near the light if they saw their other mates die. These insects and their behaviour fascinated and frightened her simultaneously.
“I have them memorized,” Aalo sighed. Her legs were refusing to move as the cycle wheels crawled and groaned as if bidding time.
“Then let me listen to one,” he insisted.
“Dew drops, dew drops,” she began chanting
“How beautiful you look,
Just like the pearls,
I had seen in that book.
Dew drops, dew drops,
Glistening in the moon,
You’ll be admired by
A child very soon…” Aalo paused.
Mister Rakesh clapped, encouraging her to go on.
“And when the dew drop
Sits pretty on the grass,
The grass shines as if
It’s made of brass.
But when it faces
The sun of the noon,
It’ll be seen
Disappearing soon.”
Aalo stopped and looked expectantly at him.
“Truly beautiful. You are very talented, Aalo,” Mister Rakesh remarked, his eyes shining.
“You think so?” Aalo’s eyes lit up in joy. “My mother doesn’t think I write good poems. She told me to stop.”
“But why? Being able to create is one of the most beautiful talents in the world,” Mister Rakesh had a certain sadness in his tone which seemed to be really deep.
“Mom says writing is useless. It’ll get me nowhere. I need to learn real things to run ahead in life,” Aalo mumbled.
“I remember someone who said that to me. I turned out just fine as a writer.” Mister Rakesh hit his knuckles on his chest as an emphasis.
“We’re here,” Aalo stopped abruptly, realizing they had reached her house. Mister Rakesh blanched a bit more.
“This is your house?” Mister Rakesh blinked twice. Aalo realised for the first time that he had very beautiful eyelashes, long and dark, almost womanly.
And the door to her home burst open, revealing her Maa, frantically shouting on the phone. “I don’t know where she is. She didn’t go to swimming classes. She has been seen by no one. She…”
Her Maa stopped speaking as she spied her in the little light emanating from the open door. She switched on the portico lights immediately. Something stirred in Aalo’s heart. Her mother’s hair was dishevelled. Streaks of kajal were running down her cheeks, making a black line of soot. Her eyes were red from crying. Aalo felt guilty for not informing her.
Maa rushed down the stairs at full speed, her gaze solely focused on Aalo. But she froze midway, her eyes getting glued to Mister Rakesh.
“You?”
There was a certain accusation in her voice, mixed with sadness and denial. Thousands of emotions flashed across her mother’s face like the reels of an old film, and it finally settled on anger.
“You?” She raised an accusing finger at him, swiftly placing herself between Aalo and Mister Rakesh.
“Sudeepa, I…” He fidgeted with his hands, dropping them to his sides and then balled them into a fist. His face however was neutral but his eyes seemed to say a thousand different things.
An awkward silence hung in the air and sparks seemed to fly between the two eyes facing each other in a battle of stares.
❤❤❤
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A 'SPECS'TACULAR SURPRISE | ONC 2021
Fantasia[Open Novella Contest Longlisted] A little girl meets a magical creature who takes her dream-surfing. When the dream world and real-world collides, she finds solutions to the questions she has been searching for a long time. ❤❤❤ When Aalo is advise...
