The Mute And The Reader [#YourStoryIndia][#Wattys2015]

Three

Just when I need someone to talk to, I hear a knock on my door. I lift my head from my tear-drenched dupatta. After wiping my face with the bed sheet, I quickly get up from the bed and open the door.

"Appa," I say with a faint smile.

"Can I come in?"

I give him way to enter my room. He looks around and smiles his million dollar smile.

"I thought I'd face a tsunami." He says.

I laugh.

"This has faced one." I say showing him my dupatta.

He smiles and sits on my bed, tapping the mattress with his fingers, humming some tune of his favorite Tamil song.

"That Ankush was a turd." He says after a minute.

I raise a brow.

"Really?" I ask, sitting beside him.

"Yes. He was constantly looking at you as if you were a piece of meat. He was a complete jerk."

I give him a look. He gives me back the same.

"You don't have to be a mind reader to know what people are thinking." He says with a smirk.

I smile back.

"I saw him once. Just once, Appa. And I could tell that he was very nice," I say, "Without reading his mind."

He looks at me. I feel him keep a hand on mine.

"Why try stopping what can't be stopped and instead use it to make your life better?" He asks. It's more of the plea.

"It can be stopped, Appa. And it can never make my life better."

"Why do you think so, Anushka? If there's-"

"How would you feel if you could hear every single thing that Amma thinks?" I interrupt him.

He's quite for about a second, probably thinking how humorous the situation might become.

"Well...I would feel...privileged!" He says.

"No. You won't." I reply.

"I would."

"Why would you?" I ask.

He gives a serene smile.

"Because I love your mother."

I look at him for a few seconds.

"It won't be love once you can hear her thoughts." I nearly snap and get up from the bed.

He gets up too and comes after me.

"Anushka you need to stop stressing. It's so painful for me to see you trying to control yourself everytime in front of people. You're putting too much pressure on yourself. You don't even know if doing that will help you."

"It does help." I lie.

"Stop lying." He immediately replies.

I don't say anything.

"Anushka, there's nothing wrong in knowing what others think. You should treat it as a gift. It is a gift!"

"It's not. I'm a failed experiment in mutation."

"Anu-"

"What's the use of such a gift? A gift that makes me invade people's mind and steal their thoughts, their feelings and their emotions? It's more of a curse...a curse that makes me a thief. And I can never steal the thoughts of my better half! Everytime I approach a man, he's thinking something and saying something else. It makes me miserable, Appa! I can't live like this. I don't want to know what people think or what is the real picture. I just want to be normal. Maybe if I keep trying, one day I'll be able to control it. Like I can do with you. So I will keep trying. Even if it requires me to undergo as many pressures in life. I. Will. Not. Stop!"

I'm panting. I've made it pretty clear that the discussion has come to an end.

My father is still standing near the bed, with a worried expression on his face. I'm feeling terrible to have disappointed him but I can't help it. I'm sticking to my decision and he knows that I am.