Anuhya

Anuhya

I am not normal. Far from it. Yes, maybe I am normal for a teenager trying to cope with the world, but I am not normal in the conventional definition of that word. The revelation of this fact happened to me and left me bewildered. 

I never knew what was going on in my life. I knew my name is Anuhya. I knew I lost my parents. I didn't know anything else. My papa died when I was 8. I didn't remember his funeral, but I remembered maa's funeral vividly. I was just 13. Not many relatives had come. 

Honestly, no relative of her whom I knew even remotely had come. She had become a recluse months before her death and months after her marriage to Naresh. I had little to no communication with my relatives. A bit absurd in India, I know. My nani had died some  months ago, and nanu had died when maa was 18. Naresh had invited the ones he knew.

Some of them gave me condolences, but all I saw was some stranger consoling me for the loss of someone that close. Is that how it works? What do you even say? Nothing seemed compensation enough for her death.

I wept alone that day, away from all of them while Naresh got all the sympathy he wanted.

When the rituals were over, he let me sit alone for some 15 minutes, and then took me to his car by my elbow. I thought that he was going to take me to an orphanage. Instead, he took me to the house he and maa had bought years ago when they had gotten married. Upon asking, he said he wasn't going to abandon me until I was old enough. He said he'd let me live in that house until I was old enough to make a living, but I had to do all the house chores and never show him my face. I liked that arrangement. 

I didn't like talking to anyone in school, but I had to maintain some social relations to keep the teachers happy. I hated when all of them became extra-polite and ultra-pitiful when they were around me. I could see it, sense it, that they all saw me as "damaged goods". But there was this one boy who did no such thing. 

Surya, a 13 year old boy, sat next to me in every class and in every recess silently. More often than not, he brought two lunch-boxes with him, and kept them both open in front of me. He didn't eat until I started eating from one of them. I had finally found a new friend. 

That was not the end of my problems. Soon enough, some boys from school started bullying me. They started asking me about my parents' death; some of them even went to the lengths of physical bullying. They locked me in the washrooms, they tore my notebooks, they pulled my hair. I didn't report any of this to the principal, because she would just call my "dad" and that would just mean more trouble for me at home, at school, and everywhere. 

One day, much to my dismay, the principal saw one of the girls pulling my hair in the class and decided to call Naresh to the school, despite my protests. When Naresh came, he listened to ma'm and took me straight home. I knew it wasn't over there. 

"What had I told you when I brought you here after your mother's death?" he asked, shutting the door. 

"To not bother you."

"Then why did I receive a call from your principal asking me to meet her?"

"It was not my--"

"Did I ask you to speak yet?"

"But it wasn't my fault she pulled my hair!"

"Did I ask you to speak yet, you little brat? You are not my daughter! You understand me? I don't care who does what to you! I don't care if you get bullied or anything! Stay out of my eyesight! Do you understand this, or is it too advanced for you?" 

I thought it'd be wise to not say anything. 

"I kept you here in this house, because your mother helped me buy it and I don't keep anyone's debt. If that wasn't the case, you'd be in an orphanage. Listen, I don't care about what happens to you. So please take care of your actions, young lady, or I'll forget that I have your mother's debt. Now go to your room."

I obliged. 

When my mother had died, I had pledged not to cry again. I could not let anyone, especially Naresh see me in my weakness, but that day, I cried. I locked my room and for the first time in months, sobbed. 

"Why? Why me? What did I do to anyone? What did I do to earn this?" I kept blabbering. 

I spotted a blade on my nightstand. I took it in my hand and swiped it on my pinky finger. It started bleeding and hurting immediately. 

"Anuhya?" I heard Surya's voice. 

"What are you doing in my head?" 

"Turn around, you ass."

I turned around and there he was. I hid the blade. I was pretty sure he saw my eyes. I didn't see a point in hiding the fact that I had been crying. He was neither bothered, nor alarmed by that. 

"What are you hiding?"

I showed him the blade and the finger. He didn't say anything. He asked me for the first-aid kit and treated the wound. I didn't know what to say. 

"Do you want to pay Snakes and Ladders?"

And we did. We played that game twice, and talked, and made fun of each other. Neither of us mentioned this ever again. 

For two years, Surya and I were inseparable. We didn't meet much, but when we did, we were joined by limbs. He was a smart scholarship student. He had to keep his grades up, and was always studying for some quiz or the other. We both knew that he was not here forever, but neither or us mentioned that.

We didn't talk much; we didn't need to. When we did talk, it was usually about some random fun fact he had learned the other day. 

"Did you know that there are more chances to die by choking on a spoon than a shark attack?"

"Do tell."

"Every year, ten people die by choking on a spoon and 8 people die in a shark attack."

"Do you know what that means?"

"What?"

"You can literally die from anything."

"Well, aren't you a little ray of pitch black."

"Touché."

School didn't change. The bullying continued, and I kept hiding it. The fact that I was hiding it increased the intensity of it even more. I could hear all class-mates whispering how I couldn’t save my mother, and how I was a curse to her. Or at least I thought they did. They were thinking about it, even if they didn’t say it. I kept thinking about it after that day.

The only support I had was my bra and Surya. Surya encouraged me in a very different way, and kept me going.

“Don’t pay attention to them. They’re jealous you’re my friend and they’re not.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet! You’re like the best friend I have!” I taunted.

“Anuhya, I’m the only friend you have.”

“Touché, Surya. Touché.”

“What are you going to do when I go away?”

“Well, you’re not going to….not anytime soon.” I went to hug him, but he retreated.

“I’m going. I’m moving to America.”

“You’re what now?” I could not believe it. I did not want to believe it.

“My parents are getting divorced. Dad won the custody battle, and he wants to stay as far as possible from mom. He’s taking me to the states.”

That evening when Surya left my house, I took an hour long bath to calm my nerves. When I came out, I stood in front of the mirror and dropped the towel. I looked at my naked body. I had grown. I had protruding breasts, and growing curves. My dark circles didn’t look as evident as they did before. I looked like a healthy kid, or at least an illusion of it. The credit was Surya’s. I would never have been able to cope if it wasn’t for him.

And now he was leaving.

I wanted to cry, but the tears never came. I used to think that only I was battling the demons in my life, but forgot that others can have a life as complicated and vivid as I do, if not more. The feeling of sonder hit me hard. Surya lived in his house with a dead body; his parents’ marriage, and we never even talked about it.

I finally did cry before going to sleep. The fear of losing him, of tolerating my existence without my best-friend, surrounded my mind, and I let it all out on my pillow.

Someone had rightly said, “Because you love even more what you know you’ll lose before long.”

The week went by in a blur. Surya came to the school only twice. Once with his dad to collect his Leaving Certificate, and once to see me. That day he took me to the chemistry lab and kissed me for the first and last time. That was the last I ever saw him.

Fast forward to my college life. I was glad I had left the school. In college, not one person bothered with me. That’s the thing about college; no one has the time to think about your existence. If you make friends, good for you. If you choose to be alone, didn’t matter.

I did make friends in college, not necessarily human. The dogs there were very affectionate. Sometimes they didn’t even care if I had food or not; they just wanted to play. They always came running when they sensed that their feeder was coming. I fed them and their puppies daily.

One of such mornings, I saw a guy playing with the puppies. I decided to leave them be with him and come back when he was gone. I tried to leave, but to no avail. One of the puppies spotted me and sprang towards me, wagging its little tail, and all of the others followed suit.

So, I knelt down and fed them. I didn’t make any eye contact with the cute guy, but I somehow knew that he was looking at me. He came close and placed a puppy, who was struggling in his arms, near the bowl of milk, and walked away. That was the first time I noticed a good looking person in the college.

Soon, I started spotting him every day in college. He came to the lectures regularly. I guessed his major was also English Literature. He never asked questions, just took notes.

He was a rather handsome fellow. Shorter than most guys, he was not too short. He had a scruffy beard and wore specs. He looked like a decent individual and had an angular face. Unlike many guys, he wasn’t scrawny, but neither was he too brawny. I never got so close as to see what colour his eyes were.

One fine day he just sat beside me in the library. The library was almost empty, and the librarian was nowhere to be seen. He sat beside me and gave me a smile when I looked at him. I quickly dug my face in my book.

“You’re the dog girl, yeah?” he asked.

“Is that a new superhero name?”

He chuckled.

“Well, you are a hero to them. They seem to really admire you.”

I nodded without looking at him. It was awkward.

“I am Suraj.”

“Anuhya.” I replied

“Nice name.” he commented.

“Thanks. I’d like to read if you don’t mind.”

“Oh yes, of course. Do carry on.”

After this encounter, he started saying ‘hello’ whenever we crossed paths. At first I shied away, but once I got the hang of it, I started reciprocating. Soon enough, we started walking home together. We didn’t talk much, just walked together in comfortable silence. He’d drop me home and after exchanging “goodbyes”, headed for his own.

It so happened once, I failed to go to the college. I had caught a bad fever because of the climate change. I even went as far to ask for a leave to Naresh. Surprisingly, he didn’t say no. He just exhaled loudly and nodded before leaving the house.

For the first time, that day, I heard a knock on the door and it was not one of Naresh’s ‘lady friends’. It was Suraj, my new friend.

“Are you dying?” he asked, standing on the doorstep.

“Huh? No!”

“You didn’t grace the college with your presence today, so I thought you must be dying. I even brought a flower for your grave.” He gave me a white rose with a surprisingly blank look on his face.

“Do forgive me for disappointing you. Would you like some tea?”

“Why, yes, so kind of you to ask, but would you mind me drinking tea inside? It’s rather cold out here.”

I stepped away and let him in.

When I asked him to make the tea, he said, “Where are your manners, Anuhya? Who asks a guest to cook?”

“Where are your manners, Suraj? Who asks a sick person to cook.”

Eventually, he obliged. I washed the vessels so that the brute wouldn’t have something to complain about when he came home. Not that he wouldn’t. He was talented enough to come up with a complaint about anything and everything in a matter of seconds.

I directed Suraj to my bedroom.

“You’ve got a lovely home, Anuhya.”

“Aren’t you done with the fake manners thing yet?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve got a habit of stretching a joke.”

“I figured. Anyway, what would you like to do?” I inquired.

“I would like to make-out, but I doubt you’d like that.”

“Fucketh thyself, Mistry.”

“I do. It’s rather pleasing. Anyway….stop making that disgusted face. Everyone does it.”

“So, I got you the notes you missed.” He fished out a book from his bag.

“Thank you.” I smiled.

“Meh, it’s nothing. Do you have Uno?”

“That I do. Wait a minute.” I took out an ivory box neatly stashed in my drawer.

The last time I had played anything with anyone, it was with Surya. I still missed him dearly. I was glad there was someone I could play with again. We played till it was time for him to scram and for the brute to come back. But after that day, he started coming over more.

We’d talk about most random of the things, like how giraffes were unable to cough and how no word in the English language rhymes with ‘month’. But sometimes we’d talk about the inevitability of death and emotional abuse by parents. Yes, it’s a thing!

“I escaped from my house.” He once confessed when he was in my house. He had seemed really disturbed that day, so I had called him over. He was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling when he said this, after a long silence.

“Do tell.”

“I didn’t literally run away. I just didn’t choose this college for its facilities. There were other reasons.”

“Okay. Why did you feel the need to do so?”

“All those fights, Anu. I was so done with them. I couldn’t even hold a decent conversation with them anymore. I couldn’t just keep pretending that everything was okay and that I didn’t care when it clearly wasn’t the case. They wouldn’t even get a fucking divorce, man!”

“I understand.”

He sat up. “You do? You don’t think I’m a wuss?”

“Why would I think that?”

“I don’t know…maybe because I left my family for my own selfish motives?”

“Okay, first of all, there is nothing wrong with being a bit selfish. Secondly, who would want to see their parents fight every day? Everyone has their limits. You’ve endured enough, haven’t you?”

He nodded and looked away. I gave him a little space to calm down.

“You know, this is the first time I said this out loud. I didn’t even admit it to myself. I judged myself for abandoning them. How do you not?”

I was silent for a while, bargaining in my head if I should share.

“Maybe because I know what you’re talking about. I’ve seen it first-hand.”

“What do you mean?”

“Leave it. I don’t want to bore you.”

“It’s offensive to me as a friend that you would think so.”

I smiled.

“Well, my mum and dad never fought in front of me. That’s probably because papa died when I was 8. But mum married this another man in some time.”

“I did not know that.”

“After my dad’s death, I was sent to my naani’s house. I didn’t know why I was being sent there. My naani told me the truth after some time. She didn’t want to keep me in the dark. When I asked about maa, she said that maa had gone to do some soul searching. After a year, maa came back. She was with a man; she had taken a new husband.

I was okay with him, and he seemed fine to me. He made maa happy. But then the fights started. He told maa that he didn’t think of me as his daughter, which was fine with me because I never thought of him as my father, but that really hurt my mother. This was just the beginning. The fights became louder and more aggressive. I used to hide in the bathroom.”

“And are they fine now?”

“She’s dead, Suraj.” Suraj grew stiff. He didn’t know how to react to such a news, perhaps.

“How….how did she die?”

I had to take a break to gather the courage to tell that story. Suraj gave me my space and held my hand as a tear broke loose.

“She was diagnosed with clinical depression. She shut herself away completely. She just slept in her room for the most part. Sometimes I used to see her walking in the house like a ghost at night. She did have her good days. She used to wake up, I would skip school, and we went to the zoo. She used to tell me dad’s stories. Not that I didn’t remember him, but I loved hearing them from her.

One afternoon, I came back from school and found her struggling for breath. She was hanging from the fan. I ran to her and forced her feet on the stool and begged her to take off that  chunni. She did. She came down. I wanted to scream at her, but didn’t. I behaved as if nothing had happened. I did everything I could. I spent more time with her, got good marks, talked about stuff she liked, even brought scented candles for her and cleaned her room. But I guess I failed.”

“What do you mean?”

“She won. She finally committed suicide without disturbance. I failed as a daughter. I couldn’t…save…her.”

At this point I was downright sobbing. Suraj held me close. He hugged me as if he was protecting me from something, perhaps from myself. I let him embrace me. I had not said this out loud since her death.

“I miss her so much.”

“I know, honey. I know.”

“I couldn’t save her.” I cried.

“It wasn’t in your hands. She did what she thought was right.”

“What was she thinking?”

“Maybe she wasn’t thinking at all.” 

That day, he sat with me as long as it wasn’t time for the brute to come back.

The next day, he took me out to eat. He said it was a date. He told me to dress up and picked me up from my house. After the date when we came back to my house, he kissed me. I didn’t stop him. I really liked him.

He snaked his arm around my waist to pull me closer and I clung to his arm. His mouth engulfed mine and our tongues explored each other. It was most exquisite. That was the feeling I was looking for forever, the sweet nothingness.

He pulled away and said, “We’re perfect together.”

“Yes, but what’s the point? You’re not even real.”