Aisha Paul

I rushed to the washroom.

  I ruffled my hair and quickly applied some mascara and smudged it. I had to look sufficiently bereaved for Namrata to forgive me. Now don't think I wasn't sad, it's just that I wasn't sad enough to cry at a moment's notice. I had done my crying for the day earlier that morning and had fixed myself post that.

  'May I come in?' I asked, head hung low.

  'Come in.'

  I was asked to sit right in front of Namrata who looked like she had just stopped crying.

  'You two need to talk,' Danish said and leaned back in his chair. His casual demeanour told me that he knew what he was doing and there was nothing to worry about. That gave me a little confidence.

I told you. I don't want to talk to her. She made me want to die, sir. I don't want to be here,' she said.

  I don't blame her. It's a surprise she was still sitting there. Then I spoke, 'Namrata, I'm really sorry for what I did.'

  'There's no way your apologies can justify what you did to me, Aisha. I lost everydamnthing!'

  'I know. It's just that I was threatened when you joined the school and it was really bad of me to do what I did,' I said. 'I'm sorry . . .'

  'You were threatened? By me?'

  'Of course, I was.'

  'Why!'

  'Because you were smart and you were funny! The teachers loved you. The boys thought you were charming. I was losing my grip on the school.'

  'But . . . but you were the one who everyone cared about! You were tall and hot, and the boys were in love with you,' she said, shocked.

  'No one was ever in love with me. They just wanted to get inside my skirt. I didn't want that. I wanted to be what you were. I wanted to be funny, I wanted people to want to talk to me because I was interesting, not because I had breasts, or because I wore short skirts. I wanted to make people laugh like you did. I wanted people to want being around me. I envied you so much . . .' I said. The tears came and I held her hand and cried.

  'But Aisha . . .'

  'I really wished to be you. I never wanted to hurt you. Please trust me. I would do anything to undo—'

  'It's okay, stop crying.'

  'But I'm so—'

  'It's okay,' She put her arms around me and I cried into her chest.

  'I'm so so sor—'

  'It's okay, Aisha.'

  'I know it's not. I destroyed you—'

  'That you did,' she said.

  'I should have never . . . I'm so bad—'

  'It's okay. Now stop crying, it's okay,' she said. 'Don't spoil your face. You're too beautiful.'

  'You're beautiful,' I said.

  'Well, you both are,' said Danish with a relaxed air, a smirk on his face, like he had planned this all along.

  I started to see him like this scientist in front of the huge electric circuit board monitoring the emotion circuitry. I decided to like him. He looked at both of us and said, 'Beauty was devised by someone very insecure to rob others of the happiness he or she couldn't feel. It was a dick move, to be honest.'

  I needed to write that down. When I become a woman, these are the kind of sentences I wished to say to engross people with my intelligence and warmth.

  'I am still a little confused about something though,' Namrata said. 'There's another boy who joined the school with me. Norbu? He was smarter and funnier and everyone loved him too. You didn't do anything to him. Didn't he make you jealous?'

  No, he didn't. I remembered that boy. A teacher's pet, he was now the Head Boy, the captain of the table tennis team, and the centre forward of our school, quite the charmer. Why didn't I take him down? I scrambled for an answer.

  'Aisha?' she asked.

  'Because he was a boy,' I spat out

  'So?' asked Danish. 'Why leave out the boy?'

  'I . . . I didn't mind him being better than me,' I said.

  'Because he was a boy?' asked Danish.

  If I were a turtle I would have crawled inside my shell and waited out for everyone to die before coming out.

  'I guess so,' I said.

  'And you went after me because I was a girl?' asked Namrata.

  I nodded shamefully. 'I'm sorry. I was stupid.'

  'Okay, okay, don't cry again,' said Namrata before I started to use her shirt as a tissue.

  Danish knew I was drowning in there and he thanked Namrata for forgiving me and told her he needed some time with me.

  'Are we friends?' I asked Namrata while she was leaving. 'Because I have never cried so much in front of anyone other than my mother and she's like my friend.'

  She smiled. 'We can be if you like Harry Potter.'

  'I will draw a scar on my forehead.'

  She laughed. Namrata shook my hand again and told me she had forgiven me and hoped I wouldn't repeat the same stuff with anyone else.

  'So, it wasn't that tough, right?' said Danish and smiled at me. His smile enough was therapy though it made me cry a little more.

  'But why didn't I do the same to Norbu?'

  'Ummm . . .' Of course he had something to say. He was a professional and he had just worked his magic, reducing two women to tears in a matter of seconds. I waited for his theory. 'He was a boy, and you thought boys are supposed to be better than girls so you weren't surprised.'

  'But boys aren't—'

  'Exactly.'

  'Shit.'

  I had screwed up. Of course it made sense: boys are better than us. Had someone asked me, I wouldn't have accepted it but deep down inside that's what I had grown up believing.

  'Yes! You are right! When last year, our senior, a girl, made it to IIT, I was like how can she make it? Wow! But I never said anything about the boys who did. Like it was expected they would. Same with the girl who almost beat Norbu in a track and field event. I called her muscular! I bitched about her and pulled her down. And when a girl partnered with Norbu in the practical exam and aced it, I was like she must have cheated. I have been pulling girls down all this time. God! How many people I need to apologize to!'

  Danish smiled smugly, that sparkling brilliance lighting up his eyes.

  'I have decided something today,' I said.

  'And what is that?'

  'I won't be the kind of girl who pulls another girl down,' I said and as soon as I said it I felt a little halo crop up behind my head.

  'Good,' he said.

  And just then the bell rang and Danish asked to me go attend my classes though I really wanted him to ask me to stay. He was making me a better woman. These counselling sessions were great. In fact, I had a bit of a crush on him, and I decided if I had to lose my virginity to anyone it would be him. It would be memorable, fun, tender and everything it's supposed to be. I walked out of his room wondering what our after-sex pillow talk would be like.