Once Upon a University Campus

Yellow Yellow Boring Fellow

The sky had turned dark, starless, moonless and hazy. A string of lamp posts at the edge of the lawn cast a dull glow making the the blades on grass of the lawn and the tops of rose bushes shiny and golden. Slats of light from the partly open luvers of the patio door cast it's stripy self on Annika. Shivaay sat on the darker patch of the stairs. She could not see him, but she was aware that he could see her. She had almost reached the bottom of the vanilla cappuccino. They both acutely aware of how fleeting these moments of perfections were and seemed to savor it in silence.

A click and an overpowering smell of something burning overcame them before they spotted smoke from a balcony jutting out from the floor above. Shivaay abandoned his coffee cup and ran out into the lawn to get a better view. Annika followed him in panic. The fire had died down, and a silhouette of man lit something else on fire. Shivaay ran inside. Annika ran towards the balcony unmindful of the rose bushes, which caught and tore into the edge of her kurta.

She hollered to check if it was Om, but he would not respond. Like a lightning, Shivaay barged into the balcony. A match was struck and lit up Om's face in the dark balcony. Shivaay blew the match and snatched the box of matches in Om's hand.

"What the hell is this Om" Shivaay yelled. Annika's heart pounded. Everything appeared normal just a short while ago. Om seemed just fine, he was trying to take care of his mother and now what was he trying to do? Burning things like a maniac or worse, was he trying to set fire to himself?

"Are Billuji's concerns were valid..Has Om has lost it? I wish I had not advised him to reveal the truth to Om. What if.. What if something goes wrong. He will never forgive me, nor will be able to forgive myself." Annika was distraught.

Shivaay coughed as the smoke dissipated.

"Shivaay, don't stop tonight. I need to do this. I beg of you." Om beseeched. Another matchstick and another small fire hungrily devoured a bunch of what looked like papers.

Shivaay's cough grew deeper. Om too started to cough. The stench of smoke reached Annika too as she fervently prayed for Om's wellbeing. It was not long that Om and shivaay exited the balcony and Om walked to the patio behind Shivaay's study. Seeing him walk in, Annika too walked back to the patio stairs. Om sat in the middle of the stairway. Annika went and held Om's hand.

"Om, are you alright." Was all Annika could muster. " I am sorry for everything. I should not have encouraged your brother to bring you into this mess." She silently expressed regret. Annika's eyes were moist, partly from the smoke, partly from the dangers she perceived Om was in. Om quitely clutched her hand for a moment. Annika's hand felt tired at being clutched hard, her legs were shaky, her heart was still running amok. She collapsed next to Om. Om rested his head on her shoulder, staring at the fluff of smoke that make the hazy sky hazier.

"Don't be worried Annika. I am fine, I just needed this, this cathartic burning. " Om said grimly.

The patio door clicked open and Shivaay walked in with a glass of water in his hand which he offered Om. Om did not move. Shivaay put the glass next to Om and went down the stair and turned around to get a better view of his brother, his hands crossed against his chest. The light from the ajar louver of the patio door cast made his eyes glow, his hair still in place but his white shirt was in a disarray. Delhi's early summer had made his renounce his jacket . Annika looked at him, uncomfortable not at her proximity to Om but at her proximity to Om in Shivaay's present. But Shivaay looked unperturbed, completely focused on his brother.

"You know Annika, I realised today what a bad son I am." Om spoke, still staring at the hazy sky where the smoke had now commingled with the hazy sky. "I am such a bad son, that I could never see the pain my mother was going through. Her world has collapsed, but she is only worried about me. She is not even thinking about herself, her happiness. Her only concern is me. What kind of a son am I that I did not inspire enough confidence in her that she could think of her own happiness." Annika felt something warm and wet on her shoulders but did not dare to move. As long as Om was ok, she was ready remain frozen.