A Tamil Lesbian Wedding

God, are you hearing? I'm in Love

Sharini's POV:

"How do I look?" she repeated for the 10th time with a big fat grin plastered on her face.

Why won't she, when she was dressed in my favorite. The plain green cotton saree swept across her figure ever so smoothly, the loose end draped in a single pleat, the hip pleats that I folded and tucked in, and the whole look highlighted by the contrasting red border.

With those square glasses perched on her nose, she looked strict yet beautiful in her own special way.

She'd washed her hair, I could smell clinic plus over the smell of rain, as I sat on the scooter.

It is 5:40 in the morning, and it's still a little dark from yesterday's rain clouds, . Guess she is getting gutsy because of the absence of people in the street.

"You look good. Stop bragging."

"Nejamma? (Really?)" she twirled around.

"Yeah keep testing my patience and I'll take you back home and show you how good you look", I wink at her and it instantly shut her up.

"You sure you don't want me to stay?" I ask, the show is for two hours, I'd better drop her back home before going to school.

"Hmm, I'll take the bus." she said, lazily pulling out a few twenties from my shirt pocket.

"Start carrying your own purse, miss, this walking ATM can't be around you 24x7", I scold but she just grinned. I haven't seen her this goofy lately. It's good to see her smile without worries.

"We will see that. Now go home, brush your teeth and shower. You stink!", she scrunch up her face, waving her fingers before her nose.

I rubbed my palms on my oily face, put them under my arms, and then held them dangerously close to her face.

"Yuck!!!", she squealed, she was quick to react when she pushed my hands away, and I cackled, trying to control my balance and my windshield laughter.

When I stopped laughing, I looked up to see her already walking into her office campus and made a U-turn.

Before I could leave, I heard her call out my name, "Sharu, wait!"

I hit the breaks and look towards her, she was looking at me with a softer smile. I raise my eyebrows in question, but she nodded in no.

"Chumma (Just like that)", she waved at me, and I did the same, riding back home with earphones plugged in.

After reached home, I got ready for the day. I had the idly and chutney she made for breakfast, and glanced at the clock, 7:50.

She should be back in about half an hour. I usually take charge of dinner, but maybe today I should prepare lunch, she would be surprised. And I do have some time, school starts at 9 and it takes forty minutes for me to reach, thanks to the traffic.

When I was done, I saw the time again, 8.15. There was no sign of her, so I left her a message and started to school.

Fridays are always fun, as it is, the kids are excited about weekend, above that, they are thrilled about art class. Not because they love art or the teacher, but because they love the way I chattered the period away.

I couldn't help it. I might not be great at my job as an art teacher. I hardly managed to make some mediocre drawings on the board, otherwise I would make them do handcrafts that I learnt from YouTube videos.

Despite that, I could keep all their attention. And I liked how they opened up to me easily.

I never liked the concept of pin drop silence in a classroom full of teens. So it is a mandate that each of us have something to share in my class. Trust me, it is so fascinating how curios and creative those young minds are.

With time, few of them became close enough to share the financial difficulties in their families, longing for a bonding with parents, the things they do out of peer pressure.

The best thing of all this is, I could see how they learned to solve such problems on their own. None of them wanted solution from outside, all they needed is a person that listened to them, without judging.

So I vowed to be that, I didn't care whether my title was art teacher or math teacher, as long as I could enjoy the craziness and satisfaction of doing what I did.

Time passes in a flash. Around 2 p.m, I checked our Whatsapp chat. She has seen my messages but there was no reply. I was waiting for her to say something about me making lunch today.

Hey

R u der?

Came home?

Reply pannu d.

I'm calling u.

I dialled her number and she cut my call within the first few rings. I tried again and now it said busy. I waited for a few minutes and called her again. "The number you have dialed is currently switched off. Please try again later."

What the hell?

I kept trying to reach her number and after a few minutes it started ringing again. I sighed in relief as she picked the call up.

"Sheetal? Are you alright? Where are you now?"

"Sharu, calm down. I'm at the church."

"Oh", I relaxed hearing her calm voice. "Fine, I will call you later." I was about to hang up, but she spoke again.

"Can you come home early today?"

What is up with her all of a sudden? She's acting weird.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

"I am fine. Can you take leave for the rest of the day and come home? I will be there in sometime."

"S-sure. Text me when you have reached. I.. I'll come right away."

And the line went dead.

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As I entered the apartment premise, I saw her sitting in the stone bench, crumbling the end of her saree, staring ahead, lost in her thoughts.

I parked the scooter and went to her. Her face was pale, all the glow I saw in the morning were nowhere to be seen. She was sweating, her face was puffy and tired.

"Sheetz, is everything okay? Why are sitting here? Come let's go inside", I said, pulling her up, she silently followed.

As we entered, I hung the keys on the holder and dropped my bag against the wall. Sheetal hugged me from behind, I felt her face buried into my back. I held her arms that encircled my waist and stayed still.

"I love you?", I heard her muffled voice. I don't know what she's going through, but I knew it wasn't a confession of love. I felt fear in her words as her grip on me tighten.

"I love you d." I stressed on love. I didn't know how, but I wanted to give her the courage those words gave me. I held her hands and interwined our fingers.

She rested her chin on my shoulder, her eyes stare into my soul as she asks, "What if I didn't wake up one day?"