In the bustling halls of high school, Aisha reigns as the epitome of success-beautiful, popular, and academically brilliant. However, when a nationwide sports tournament descends upon her school, it brings not only the thrill of competition but also...
If I say that to her, she'll hit me, so I keep my mouth shut and try not to ogle her too obviously. She's my girl crush for real. Slay.
"Are you not going to attend classes today?" I ask her. Children — some known faces, some unknown — are bumbling about in the field. Said field is off limits for us Rivans till the end of Cluster. That just means no games period. Sucks.
"I don't know, man. There's 100m and 200m selections today. I'll probably be late." She sighs, leaning on the railing as we observe the kids. The bell still hasn't rung yet, so we probably have a bit more time before assembly. Vaani's not going to come today — she's with her dad for some work — and Samaira's with Neil, so we are alone right now.
Tara isn't looking at me, though. Her eyes are focused on a point behind me. I frown. "What are you looking at?"
"Whom." She corrects, still not looking at me. "I'm looking at the Captain of Crestwood's football team. And if you look at him, you'd get why I can't take my eyes off of that guy. He's a total Greek God."
I roll my eyes. "I don't have any interest in mooning over boys, thank you."
That gets her attention. "Would you rather moon over girls?" I shrug.
"No, but, seriously though," She giggles, "He's a total eye candy. Definition of tall, dark and handsome."
I widen my eyes, smiling teasingly, and she takes the hint. "Don't." She warns, but where's the fun in that?
"Should I prepare the marriage invitation?" I laugh.
"Girl, stop."
"I'll discount it for you, don't worry." I say patronisingly, patting her head.
She groans. "I should never tell you anything. Just you wait —" She's cut off by the loud chime of the bell. I grin.
"Gotta go, kiddo." I say, dashing away. I hear her running after me, but I think she lets me flee, because if she wanted to, she could catch me anyday.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Tara didn't turn up for class for the whole day. Sucks to be us, callusing our dainty little hands scribbling on paper the whole day while she gets to chill on the field. Life really isn't fair.
"Still meeting up at 7?" Sam asks me as she slings her bag up her shoulders. I'm a late packer; my notebooks are always messy and all around the classroom for some reason, so it takes me much more time to count, recount, and then leave the school premises. It's so hard being me.
I nod to her, motioning her to leave. I hate keeping people waiting for me, especially those whose parents come to pick them up. "Don't be late!" I say to her leaving form.
"Tell that to yourself!" She yells back. I smile. Minakshi mam is still there in class, looking at us fondly.
"Planning to meet up?" She asks.
"Yes, it's been too long." I sigh dramatically, picking up a pen I'd dropped on the floor sometime during the day.
"I miss the days when we were like you all, brimming with energy and excitement. Nowadays, all I want to do when I reach home is to collapse on the bed and rest."
Same, to be honest, but I'm not going to reveal my own laziness by my own mouth, so I just shut up and begin chaining my backpack.
"Your Felicitation Ceremony is soon. Probably next week or so." She says.
I pause. "And whose idea was it to keep the Felicitation Ceremony the same time around Cluster, with all these kids to see us?" I say, horrified. That's going to be more embarrassing than delightful.
"Ours, of course."
"I don't mean any offence, mam, but...wouldn't that be somewhat of a showoff?" I laugh awkwardly.
"Well, that is the plan, Aisha." She smiles. Mirth shines in her spectacled eyes. A perplexed look crosses my face.
"What exactly are we showing off here?"
She walks towards me, places a hand on my shoulder and chuckles. My brows draw together in confusion. "You." She says, and although she's smiling and there's warmth in her gaze, her voice is dead serious. "We are showing off you all, our students. What else do we have? You are what makes Riva, its real wealth. Our pride. And we aren't afraid or ashamed to display that our school produced such gems."
I turn my head away to blink back the sudden tears that sting the corners of my eyes.
The Felicitation Ceremony was — still is — a huge deal for me. I remember watching our seniors go up the same stage last year while we clapped from the crowd, with magnetic smiles and jubilant laughs on their faces. They were luminescent, glowing, like angels descended from heaven. I remember being in that place and wishing with all my might that I'd be in their position when my time came, but now that it has, I can't help but feel empty that I won't be surrounded by the same people. My people.
Most of my friends from last class went different ways this year. Some left the country for higher studies, some left our school, some got separated into different sections. I still have my core — I have Vaani, Tara and Samaira, and I'll always have Sonam — but nonetheless, everything still feels unfamiliar. New. Strange. And all I feel is hugely unprepared.
I mean, it's kind of weird how we were all kids in grade tenth but the moment we step into eleventh, we are supposed to accept new roles. None of this feels real; it's almost like I'm an imposter even in my own life, trying to be someone I'm not. I wasn't ready for this, I'm not sure I'll ever be, but the biggest problem is that no one understands.
Parents tell us 'It's okay, you'll grow out of it soon', as if we don't already know that. I know that ten years into the future, I'll be living and thriving somewhere else, with all new people and maybe some old connections and some days we'd sit together with a cup of tea and reminisce about the good old days fondly. Maybe we'd laugh over the moments that feel so irritating to us right now. Maybe I'll be much, much happier and so, so busy with life that I won't get time at all to be unhappy. It will all be okay. I know that. I've always known that.
The knowledge isn't enough for me to still not feel overwhelmed. But that doesn't matter. Doesn't matter that the prospect of facing everything new — new studies, new people, new places, new responsibilities, peering into the void of unfamiliarity — it scares me more than I imagined it would. That I want to hyperventilate just thinking about it. No, that doesn't matter and that's not what this innate sadness within me is about.
I'm mourning the loss of my childhood — I'm mourning the girl that I'll never get to be again, the one that ran up to her father and forced him to stay awake even when he was tired to the bone just to tell her a bedtime story, the girl could easily fit in her mother's lap and fall asleep there, the little kid that would say 'ahh' and a spoon of rice would shove itself into her mouth, the one that could sleep with teddy bears unapologetically and run around the house wearing barely anything, the one that could have a goodnight's sleep without thinking about exams and studies and this and that the next day. She's gone now, taken by the wheel of time.
I've been contemplating for too long, I realise that when I look into Mina mam's eyes. And because I'm human after all, in a human world that never stops for anyone — and I wasn't going to be an exception — I stand up and walk out of the classroom, trudging back to my house.
