Love in micrometer

~THE DREAM PART 1~

Shivamsha

It has only been about a day since I met her, and as usual, my mind is consumed by her thoughts. How can someone so insignificant in my life make me so furious that I lose my temper and walk away? This is not me? I don’t understand myself, and I definitely don’t like this.

I am on a 3-day break from today because I have not taken a proper rest in the past few months, so I am laying on my bed just woken up from my afternoon nap. I have been staring at the fan in my room for quite some time now, constantly thinking about our meeting.

I get off my bed, wash my face, and go down to the kitchen where amma is cleaning the shelf. I walk to the water dispenser and see her struggling to bring down a few boxes from the highest shelf. I immediately help her, earning a small pat on my back.

I gave her a hand in cleaning as we gossiped about Appa and his talent to get angry at the smallest of things. I walk back to my room after a strong cup of tea to spend the evening watching movies.

I take almost an hour to pick what to watch, finally deciding I lay down on the bed again. 30 minutes into the movie, the only information I have about it is that the hero likes the heroine. Other details seem to have been forgotten by me because I had played a small little movie of my own in my head.

I came to an understanding that I had dozed off in between and had a weird dream that is making my cheeks flush, red with embarrassment.

I can't believe I dreamt of something like that. I would not prefer anybody knowing what it was about because… no. it was nothing.

I looked at the time. It was 15 minutes past 5 o’ clock, I got up once again before the sun set, freshened up, and headed downstairs for my evening chores. I try to keep myself occupied throughout the day to focus, not allowing any part of my head to wander off to places it shouldn’t.

I heard Appa shouting from the parking lot. I ran to enquire why he had been asking for me.

“Shivamsha go pick Siddhi from the metro”, Appa commanded.

“Why do I have to pick her? she can walk home by herself. You are pampering her too much these days”, I complain.

“Don’t behave like a child. Go pick her up. Take the car”, he said and threw the car key for me to catch.

“Car? I can pick her up from the scooter itself. Why is there a special treatment when the metro is hardly any far?” I argue, genuinely concerned why Appa is insisting to take the car.

“I am going out, and I am taking the scooter. I am running late; your uncle is waiting for me”, he said urgently and left from there.

Without any other option, I drove the car till the metro station. I saw Siddhi waiting for me in the parking area. To my surprise, I find somebody else along with her, whom I may or may not want to meet at the moment. Siddhi’s friend.

She is standing in a little awkward and weird posture. I stop the car in front of Siddhi and her friend when I see Siddhi’s face brighten up like a child.
“Annnnnnaaaa, you came to pick us” she exclaims. I smile genuinely, asking her to step inside the car fast.

She opened the door for her friend, who was limping. I turn around and see that there is a bandage on her ankle. I immediately panic. I don’t know why, but I did. “What happened?” I screamed; my voice unintentionally high. Siddhi enters the car and convinces me to start driving, promising me to explain everything once we reach home.

We sat down in the kitchen, Siddhi and I, her friend and amma. Appa has said that he will join us after some time. Amma is busy feeding us with her healthy, tasty food.

I can not help but glance at her (Siddhi’s friend), deliciously eating the food, as if totally forgotten and unbothered about the tension she has put me under.

Siddhi is hogging her food like always, afraid that I will eat her portion. I smile, looking at my baby sister, a little disgusted at the way she does not chew her food but rather gulps it.

“Chew your food, monkey, I won’t eat your portion”, I say to Siddhi, earning an angry glare from her. I serve her another spatula of Rice and Sambar.

Amma comes in to serve Siddhi’s friend as she is sitting away from the Sambar vessel.

“Have some more Priya, look at you so weak and tired. How will you be able to survive if you don’t feed yourself enough?” I heard Amma say with concern.

We were quietly listening to the stories Amma was telling us about her childhood. It is a story Siddhi and I have byhearted now that is being narrated to us for as long as we remember. Siddhi has still not explained what has happened. All I see in front of my eyes is that my little sister is not hurt, and her friend with a broken bone. A part of me wants to stop the whole world, question her about this situation, and maybe even apologise for being a jerk yesterday.

Appa also arrived home with some ice cream, earning an earful from Amma for spoiling the kids with something cold. The kids in this context includes a person who is not a person but a monkey, a 24-year-old who is supposed to be a responsible adult who has figured it all out, and a person who has hurt herself in the leg and making me desperate to know What the hell even happened. Amma’s definition of kids is very cute.

“What?” I ask, just to be clear, if I heard the first time correctly, that she slipped while trying to remove a box from the lab cupboard. I absolutely have no words to say. How can somebody be so irresponsible? How is it that she who feels so offended at the slightest truth I tell about her, pounces on me to defend herself, builds walls so high for anybody to cross as a means to protect herself be so careless? What if the injury was serious? What if? I don’t even want to think about it.

I close my mouth tightly to supress my anger. Appa and Amma are worried about her, thanking all the Gods they know for not making it any more serious, as if this is not serious enough.

Keeping all this aside, what makes me more furious is that first, she has not looked at me even once since the time she has come home. Second, I am furious about it, which makes no sense.

I hear my phone ring on the dinner table. I go to pick up the call, thanking the universe for giving me a chance to walk out of that place, saving me from being a brat like yesterday. A brat who walks away in anger.