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

Eleven

"You're late. Again." Says my mother as I enter.

"Yeah. I was with a friend."

The dining table is set with the leftovers and I'm slightly disappointed to have missed a meal with Appa. I quickly serve myself and take the plate to his study. He's at his usual place and his head is bent over some paperwork.

"Sorry I'm late! Again." I say in a low tone.

He immediately turns around. A pair of spectacles are resting on his nose and somehow that just unclenches my gut. He looks less ferocious with his spectacles. Appa is that typical father who loves me to death but can be the death of anyone who even attempts to hurt me.

He turns back around and returns to his work. Something in me says that he's not furious.

"No problem! I'm curious though." I hear him say.

I smile with slight relief. I approach him with the plate in my hands.

"Curious? Why?" I ask as I sit on the chair beside his.

"Well," he begins, "You are never this late. You would be if you meet people. You don't meet people. So, I'm curious."

I mix the rasam with the rice on my plate, thinking about what I should say.

"Hmm," I manage,"I've made a friend in college. We meet in classes and after. He...he's different. In a different way."

Then I realize that I don't even make sense.

"I mean he's kinda-"

"He?" Appa interrupts.

I'm confused for a millisecond but then I understand that he's referring to the masculinity of the pronoun I used. He looks slightly surprised as he looks at me, trying to see me from above his glasses.

"Oh! Yes." I respond.

Then he chuckles lightly and says, "Are you sure he's a boy, Anushka?"

I dab him in annoyance.

"Appa!"

He throws his head back and laughs.

"Okay," he says,"What's his name?"

"Aryan."

"Hmm," he looks towards the wall behind me, "So do you like him?"

I nearly choke on my rice.

"What?! No! No!" I say coughing.

How could he even think that?!

"Just asking!" He says with a shrug.

"He's not like the others." I say.

"Which is stopping you from liking him?"

"No, Appa! What I mean to say is that the reason I could make friends with him is because he is different. He...he...cannot speak."

Now I see a glint of surprise and interest in his eyes.

"I think I'm starting to get what you mean."

"He's not only different in that way. Even his thoughts are different."

"Hmm?"

"Remember when I tell you about all those people who think something and say something else?"

"Yeah?"

"He's not like that! Most of the stuff he thinks is what he wants to say. It's like he speaks his mind...even though he can't speak."

He looks at me thoughtfully, trying to comprehend something.

"How do you know that?"

"I converse with him." I reply.

He's confused for a second and then realizes.

"You mean he knows that you can-"

"Yes." I reply, nervously.

He notices the quiver in my voice and gives me a smile.

"Anushka, it's your secret. So it's your choice with whom you wish to share it."

I'm quiet. I think I already knew that he won't say anything. He glances at my plate.

"Your mother forgot to add salt in the rasam today."

I smile back.

"I know."

"You ate it without complaining." He retorts. It's more of a question.

"So did you."

He chuckles lightly.

"How do you know?"

"Amma is in a good mood right now."

He throws back his head and laughs lightly. He looks back at me and his face turns serious on seeing my cold expressions.

"Anushka-" he attempts.

"You see, Appa?" I interrupt.

He's quiet.

"If Amma could read your mind, every single day in this house would be a battle."

He's still quiet but he's looking at me intently, as if trying to read my mind. His face has never looked so peaceful but I know there's a cascade of thoughts in his mind. The arguments regarding this ability of mine never cease with my father. He is always trying to make me understand to stop being so paranoid about it and I always tell him reasons to loath myself. It's a never ending process.

He finally sighs and before returning back to his work says something that makes me smile.

"I'd love to meet Aryan. Bring him over for dinner someday."

********

A/N: Rasam is a part of the South Indian cuisine.