In His Custody ✎ (MaNan)

✰ 15 - scars to your beautiful

2 September 2010

"I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, 

in secret, between the shadow and the soul."

— Pablo Neruda

Only rarely I missed the school bus, after the first couple of days.

I learned it the laborious way that if I missed my bus, I would have to go to school with my brother and he didn't exactly have the best company. They were alright to handle on my best days, but I would rather not meet them early in the morning when waking up was a hassle in itself and getting ready–ah well, I hated it.

As usual, I was in the seat beside Navya's, by myself. Navya was unfortunately sympathetic and bounteously disheartened when I made no eye contact but her 'mean girl' group generously indulged her into spicy gossip. The tame window, to my right, entertained me.

Two enlivened deer skipped in zigzag motions through a trail of trees that touched the clouds, and formed a maze for them. Maybe they were being chased by an animal from behind, the window frame blocked my vision.

Animals had to go to all extents to protect themselves. I didn't have any of those tedious worries. I didn't have to struggle for palatable meals, or have to butcher a creature to fill my stomach. I should've been happy, and indeed that thought made me.

I admired the rangy bushes that stood alone yet strong, and the robust wind that majestically flew as he pleased not ceasing for a single soul in the universe. I wanted to be like them. Such ambitions never crossed me in Bangalore; Bangalore was a warm cocoon for me, and Mumbai... Mumbai was everything unfamiliar in one place, at the same time.

The crocked bus derailed the main road and paused by a wide ledge laid with fresh concrete. It wasn't time yet, school was another fifteen minutes away. Only a bus stop, it was, no wonder.

Cheerful new girls hurried in, two of them and one of them stood beside me. I pulled a small smile almost ignoring the eagerness to converse and shifted closer to the edge so she could get enough space. "Shukriya," she mumbled in a soft tone. "Naam kya hai tumhara?" Now I didn't know Hindi, but I knew 'naam' meant 'name'.

I pivoted, brushing hair strands off my face. She wore a religious headscarf and a gentle welcoming smile. Her eyes were a drugging shade of green, with a dollop of honey in the middle. She was as beautiful as an angel.

Most of us in school hated two braids, including myself, but for her hair that dropped to her knees, adorable braids accentuated the health of her lustrous locks. "I'm Nandini. 10B."

"Hi Nandini... Main Amira. 9A mein hoon shayad, pata nahi," She giggled, her name was Amira, and she was in 9A, I deciphered and smiled as an achievement.

Before I could say anything else, I heard the driver croak. There was an exchange of a words. And then footsteps were heard on the metal stairs. With his height, it took less than a second to spot him. He confidently flung his bag on his shoulder while scanning the seats one at a time. What is he doing here? I thought, and my cheeks felt red hot.

And then he happened to catch a glimpse of me, then hardy arrogance faded into compliant composure and then a mischievous smug appeared.

His sluggish strides, in contrast to my expeditious heartbeat, were crucifying. The last thing I wanted was for him to shoo this new friend of mine away and take her. After so many days I had found a proper friend.