Aap Koun Hai? PT 1

Payal Mehra 😎

Early morning chaos is always the worst.
Everything is a distraction, everything is messy-and that is the last thing I need today.

The cafeteria ladies from across the room, stare me down with tight clenched eyes, as if I've murdered their entire family , and the hot air , thick of different food and spices blended together, tightens and sears my throat, no matter how much I try to ignore it.

The noise is no less.

The chattering of students encases the room ,a ruckus of laughter, screams and gossips, that mingle together in an unrecognisable storm of noise, which is followed by the snarky professor to my left, laughing loudly and randomly at their own inside jokes.

It's irking me.

Distraction is normal. One must just learn to block it out, and trust me-as someone lives with two very irritating brothers-I've mastered that. But this isn't just a case of distraction. It's a case of precaution.

I am taking a huge risk by writing in this place-where my worst enemies roam.

What if that random person is peeping into my computer? What if the cafeteria lady saw what I wrote?What if those teachers are laughing at what I wrote? What if the school can see what I am writing?

Lowering my computer as people pass by, hiding the computer screen with my arms, pretending as if nothing is going on-it's pure torture.

And it's a distraction from actually typing this article.

But alas, Ma would give a slap on my cheek if she saw what I was writing, so I have no other choice but to write over here.

On top of that, it is getting increasingly difficult to ignore those intrusive thoughts at the back of my head. They normally enter my brain when I am writing articles like these in vulnerable places.

Some of the dangerous ideas I get are quite tempting to follow through with though.
One of them gives me this sudden urge to get up with my laptop, stand on the cafeteria table and show everyone what I am writing.

After that I imagine all of India's biggest mafias getting into their black suits and trucks to hunt me down.
Needless to say, it took a lot of strength to resist doing that .

Not the best morning as you can tell, the paranoia is getting to me.

But I have to do this now. No more looking here and there after one or two words.

Irritatingly enough just when I found the strength to trudge through this I get disturbed.

Ow!

Something light hits my head and I am snapped back to this miserable world.
My tense body relaxes and I find what hit me-an aluminum ball.
I pick up the shiny light metal, like a feather in my hand.
Anger jolts through my wrist and I crush it in my palm.

My head spins, looking around for the idiot who threw this. Until I find her.

Lowering my laptop screen I see Amara in her bright pink clothes and jewelry, hands tightly on hips and gaze fixated on me.

"What are you doing Payal?" She yells, accusation blazing in her eyes.

I let out a nervous grin.

So I think I'll pause right about here and try to explain who the hell I am.

I am Payal Mehra. Twenty one years old. I live in Mumbai with my lovely mom who runs a sweet shop and my not so lovely brothers, Sam and Tam

Also I am a Student of Lera University of Business and Finance, one of the best business schools in the country. Where only the apparently "best" people get sent. By that they mean the wealthiest. It helps that I have an estranged father who runs this huge business tycoon.