Crossing The i's And Dotting The t's

(XII) (Pseudo)important Resolutions

The summer broke on the last day before summer break.

Hot, dry winds which had been oppressing us since a fortnight paved way for the much welcomed light showers.

Cool breeze followed the intervals of short-lived drizzle for the rest of the day. Even a vitriolic, moody, irritable and aesthetically impaired of a girl like me had to admit.

The weather was freaking awesome.

Large stretches of time inturrupted the cool installments of fine rain. And as much as I loved those installments, their timing was always bad.

Like right now, for example, when Kian and I were looking for an auto in a visibly empty auto stand.

"Hey wait!" I yelled at a passing auto-rickshaw.

The driver didn't even bother slowing down.

"It's of no use, I guess they're on a strike or something," Kian grumbled dejectedly.

I turned to face him and was met with a pair of puffed, bloodshot eyes on a visibly tired face, probably like mine. His shoulders were slumped from carrying the weight of his bag since the past forty-five minutes while his t-shirt was sprayed with imprints of almost microscopic raindrops.

'Do you really have to check him out every at every opportunity you get?' my inner voice sneered.
Ignoring her, I addressed the person in question, "so what do we do now?"

He shrugged, "we walk."

"Are you fucking kidding me? It's three kilometers from here!"

Giving me a pointed stare, he deadpanned, "do you have a better idea?"

I thought of calling my mother but then I remembered that she had something today, she'd still be in her office. My father was on a work trip and Aarna was at my grandmother's place.

Worst day to have an empty house.

"Can't your parents pick us up?"

He shook his head.

"Well then," I said, "guess we'll walk."

And so we started walking, too tired to talk. The unwelcome yet familiar silence enveloped us. For even if we weren't tired, we wouldn't bother with a conversation.

But I don't think it is solely my fault anymore.

Still, today was not a good day for confrontations. To be honest, no day is.

Halfway through, we came across a couple of cycle rickshaws, those which are manually pulled. As I met Kian's eyes a silent understaning passed over his face and we stopped in front it. The owner acknowledged us with a nod.

I told him our address.

"Sixty rupees," he grunted, dropping his cigarrate after taking a last drag.

Not even bothering to bargain, we quickly climbed the rickshaw and settled down. The drizzling stopped as the rickshaw puller started paddling.

Like I said, always a bad timing.

"So..." I said, in a half hearted attempt at a conversation, "what's your plan for the holidays?"

"Nothing much." He shrugged, "just coaching and stuff. Oh and I'm inviting everyone over at my place next week."

"Right...have you asked all of them?"

"Yep, and they've all agreed. Radhika's mother wanted to talk to mine first but at the end, she also got permission to come."