Faasla

Ten

Yet another day of an extended, depressing lockdown. But honestly - I don't mind it much. Being forced to stay indoors and cutting off real life human connection has been my biggest dream, and I always thought that it was unrealistic and impractical. Even though the world was going through some drastic turnover, the lockdown was truly my dream come true moment.

At 9 a.m., I made my usual frothy Cappuccino, but for a change, I listened to my heart and made an extra mug for Darshan, saving his taste buds from his bland drainage water.

"Good morning!", I greet him as he walks out of his bedroom with a grumpy face, messy hair and his phone in his hands. "Anisha. Talk to the event manager. Now!", he utters into a voicenote, conveniently ignoring my morning greetings.

"Well, we can give that one more shot!", I say out, drawing his attention towards me. "Good morning, Darshan Raval!", I force a sarcastic smile at him. "Good morning, Navya Ra---N-Navya", he fumbles.

"Sorry, I heard you the first time but I was---".

"---stressed. I figured that out. Out of the 20 times I talk to you, you're stressed 19 times. I'm getting a hang of your algorithm", I tell him.

"And what's that algorithm?", he keeps his phone aside for a moment. "According to my observational research---", I start, but he cuts me off. "Observational research? What am I? An animal?", he scoffs and the yes, you are lingers around the tip of my tongue, but I'm not saying it - we agreed on peace. "Anyways, go on", he breathes.

"---you're not angry at one given point of time; it's who you are! You know, in a normal person's graph of life - there's a steady line where they're somewhat happy, and then there's a peak - which is their anger. It's the opposite for you - you're just eternally grumpy, which also means that you're not tough person to satisfy. Thank you for listening to my hypothesis!", I conclude. "Your hypothesis is pure bullshit!", he argues. "You can always use better words, other than fuck and bullshit. You know, expand your vocabulary", I shrug.

"Oh. Now you think I need lessons on how to talk?", he questions. "No offence but, I'm convinced you need them", I shrug and he smiles, shaking his head to the sides. "What more can I expect from a Professor's daughter?", he sighs, returning to his phone, and I giggle, picking up my coffee mug from the counter.

"By the way---", I take a pause on my way to my bedroom, and turn around to look at him. "I made you a cup of coffee", I point at the kitchen counter. "My milk was going bad and I didn't want to throw it. Hence, the coffee for you", I lie, because I know that if I told him it was out of sympathy, he would resort to drinking his garbage coffee. I truly am starting to get a hang of Darshan Raval, and his twisted ways. Not bad, Navya.

Today is different from all the other days, though; because I'm expected to teach a bunch of 9th Graders...through a video call. And the most absurd thing is - I've never taught any class beyond Kindergarten. The thought of dealing with a herd of teenagers awakens a discomforting anxiety in me.

I'm not a people's person, which is one of the main reason I chose to be a Kindergarten teacher. Kids don't judge you for who you are. The fear of judgement runs in my veins; I do care about what people think about me. Probably, because my whole life, people judged me for who my mom was; I have been conscious ever since. I've had trust issues ever since. And my issues took the best of me - I built a safe haven and lived behind the closed doors. Alone.

As I anxiously turn through the notes for the 9th Graders, a soft knock emerges from the other end.

"Yes?", I voice out, expectantly looking at the door, and a moment later, Darshan Raval pops up through it. "I---I made you an avocado toast---", he reveals to my complete surprise. "---actually, my bread was getting mouldy and I didn't want to throw all of it. Hence, the avocado toast for you", he throws the same dialogue back at me with a small smile. "I know. Quite a coincidence that your milk and my bread decided to rot around the same time", he shrugs, and I look away from him, fighting my smile.