21. Danish Roy

  I didn't know why I said that name—Aisha—I didn't really mean it. Maybe because I'd 

liked the name. Otherwise it was just plain creepy. She was only seventeen—over five years younger than me. It sounds like right out of Lolita but only more perverse because it's 2015 and they have laws against that kind of stuff. And she wasn't even that pretty. Well, that's just a lie. Let me try and describe her in the most innocuous, legal way possible. She was quite tall, around 5'9" and very fit, not that I noticed or anything. God. She was only seventeen! Her eyes had a certain curiosity, like they were questioning everything, me, the room, herself, the universe. Did I tell you she was only seventeen? She was dark-skinned in the most beautiful way possible. The pimples on her skin almost suited her, only made her more human. She was always a little lost, like she'd forgotten to walk or breathe sometimes. She was always thinking, always thinking, always thinking . . .

  I wanted to get inside her mind and know what she was thinking about.

  But I took that name just because I had to take a name.

  *

  That day, she strode inside the room and almost stumbled over the chair before she could sit on it, her smile so warm it felt like she had dragged the sun in with her.

  'Hi!'

  'You seem happy today.'

  'So happy!' she said. 'I think I might have a boyfriend! This is the best day of my life!'

  Thank God, she got one.

  'You don't seem to share my enthusiasm. My counsellor should think his job is half done if the student is happy and feeling on top of the world!' she said, her finger pointing towards the sky.

  'I didn't take you for a girl who would celebrate getting a boyfriend. That's undermining your worth,' I said.

  Gold. Pure gold. I was getting better under pressure. I knew where it was coming from. The rejection of not even being considered for Smriti's cousin's prospective boyfriend still stung. I was happy for her and her new boyfriend, but not happy with the concept of happiness and having a boyfriend/girlfriend being so closely strung together.

  'Of course. Yes. Hmmm. Okay. Umm? So I shouldn't be happy about it?'

  'Sure. You can be happy. But I don't think it qualifies for the best day of your life.'

  'So I'm not happy about my new boyfriend, like not very happy, only averagely happy. I'm not really sure if he's yet my boyfriend or anything. So, yes, I shouldn't be very happy about that. Because he's a boy and he's also getting to date me. So it's not like it's a one-way street.'

  She looked really confused now. Her eyes were staring at the ceiling and then at me and then at her fingers, trying to make sense of what she had just said.

  'But what if he's better than I am? Like a better person? Shouldn't I be celebrating even then?'

  'Do you know if he's a better person than you are?'

  'I don't but he seems nice.'

  'What did he do?'

  'He helped me with a tray and asked if he could have my number,' she said.

  'That's it?'

  'Okay, I get it. But then how should I behave? Like he's lucky to have me? Or should I show him some attitude? I want to bring my A game to this thing. So counsel me! How should I act?' she asked, throwing her hair back.

  'Like nothing has changed.'

  She nodded her head sadly. 'But can I be happy about the party my brother is throwing for my eighteenth birthday?'

  'Yes! That's the kind of thing you should celebrate! Brothers are great,' I said.

  The last party my brother threw me was when I got through the graduate programme. It was a noble gesture and the party was great but I got drunk too early because I was scared I wouldn't be funny enough without the alcohol. By the time everyone arrived, I was already dunking my head in the commode and puking. My brother charmed everyone in the party and soon they forgot what they were celebrating.

  'You aren't kicked about it? ' I asked.

  'I am. Of course I am.'

  'No, you aren't,' I said, my Spidey-senses working overtime.

  'No, I'm not. I know I'm supposed to be happy and this is a great surprise. It must have taken him a lot to plan it. But I feel guilty now.' She looked at her feet.

  'And why is that?'

  'Like we don't have a relationship. We don't talk and yet he's doing this for me. How am I supposed to take that?'

  'Have you tried talking to him?'

  'We don't talk any more. He looks through me like I don't exist.'

  'Why?'

  'We just grew apart. He retreated into a little world of his own and never came out.'

  'And you never tried to wrench open that world of his?'

  'I'm his little sister! He should have looked out for me! Not the other way round!' she protested.

  'You're not a little girl any more,' I said.

  These sagely words I said made me feel ancient and my faint liking towards this girl felt even more wrong.

  'I should talk to him? I don't know what to say.'

  'He's your brother. You can always talk to your brother.'

  She smiled. 'Do you have a brother?'

  'Yeah. And I love that bastard more than life itself.'

  'That's so sweet.'

  The bell rang and it was time for her to leave. I spent the rest of the day walking about listlessly in the corridors, watching the happy kids mill around, one among them being Aisha and her prospective new boyfriend, the tall, handsome tree—Vibhor.