Aye, Love!

Chapter-5

Vedansh

The tormentor of my days.

It has been a hectic week with studies and the project. Time passed by and I mostly forgot about the fight I had with that idiot cousin of mine and the girl with the brownish-black hair, and eyes made of caramel-colored crystal patterns. It is funny how I remember her features with such vibrancy when my memories of the fight are growing vague with each passing day. Today I had a lot of free time, so I prepare my guitar to have some private time in the music hall. I walk across the campus and was about to enter the hall when I see the person who has etched her features into my head walk into the music hall.

I move forward instead of turning away. I could've easily gone back to my room and returned after a while when she'd probably be done with whatever she practices inside, or I could've just gone to the lake, my favorite place to relax, but I don't. Instead, I stand close to the window, not knowing why I am standing there when she clearly wants to be alone.

I wait there, standing, and justify the act by thinking that I just wanted to have my music session over with as soon as possible. It was my habit to have a music session once a week, one that my mother insists on and I got used to it, not that I enjoyed it or anything. I like music but playing guitar and singing are not a pleasure to me.

My father wanted me to be an all-rounder, so he signed me onto pretty much all the available activities, and in all the workload, I never got to enjoy anything real and often showed no interest in it after a while. Music was a necessity to me, and I continued because I turned out to be good at it, but I never enjoyed it since I only ever played the instrument hung on my shoulder to entertain people around my father.

Maybe it's because of all those orchestrated performances that I no longer enjoy playing except for doing it habitually, but I realize that's not the case with the girl inside, as I soon find out that she has an affinity for music and not just because she has a great voice but because she knows exactly how to mix her emotions into the tune.

Even though I hate to admit it, she possesses a love for music that I lack, and it makes me jealous that I can't bring out my emotions while I play. I play with precision and no emotion. It's more of a reciprocation than a heartfelt creation. I can play perfectly, but I can't create anything out of it.

I hear her sing until the end standing behind the window, wondering how she looks right now when she's pouring her heart and soul into her voice. I think anyone would be beautiful while singing with such passion, but I don't dare peek inside the window because the last thing I want is to get caught watching her private moment.

I have no intention to breach anyone's private life, but I can't help but be curious about this girl. When I hear someone else enter the room from the other side of the podium, I start to walk away, not too far, just out of earshot, because I know not to eavesdrop on someone's conversation like this even though I was just hearing her singing without her knowledge. It is just wrong to listen in on someone and I know how much I'd hate it if that happens to me.

I wait in the side corridor of the building, and I don't know why I am waiting. I pull out my phone and scroll through it in search of any new messages or emails, to pass time. I tell myself as soon as she's out, I will be done with my session and leave for my room. I find a message from my mom asking me how I was, I reply saying I am fine and done with classes.

I then scroll through my Instagram feed, soon engrossed with new updates on one of the new theses being developed on lymphoma, a type of cancer that begins in the lymphocytes of our immune system, and soon spreads across the body through the spleen, thymus, bone marrow and other parts of the body, that I am completely cut off from the rest of the world.