I sign myself, 'R'

Chapter 1

“we’re not going to find anything”, said Anne, trudging along behind her best friend, Ira, whom she loved like a sister.

“If we don’t go, I’ll never be at peace again”, called Ira.

“We won’t find anything”, said Anne, disapprovingly.

“There’s a chance”

Anne tried a different tack, “Even if we did find something, we wouldn’t be allowed to keep it.”

“Who said I'm going to tell the authorities?”

“No!”, cried Anne, “you wouldn’t! we’d be killed!”

Ira stopped abruptly and turned to face her.

“Look, Anne, I didn’t ask you to come. You saw me leaving and decided to come. If you don’t want to share in this adventure, then you can still turn back. I'm fine on my own.”

Anne glared at her for a mere second, before dropping her gaze and saying, “All right, all right. Move on.”

The two sisters continued until they reached the end of the muddy terrain they had been wading through. Ahead lay a sandy stretch of land on which an excavation camp was based. This camp was the point of interest of the girls.

“How do you plan to get in?”, asked Anne

Ira didn’t look at her but instead stared off into space. She mumbled softly and distractedly, “The floor…it isn’t paved…so we could…”

Anne suddenly smiled. It was a mischievous smile, one that didn’t suit her character at all.

“Where do we dig?”, she asked.

“The east side of the wall. It has a thin wall. We could get through easy.’

Anne nodded and ran off to a nearby shed. She rummaged around for a while and emerged with two spades. If you don’t understand why, then I think you should read more carefully or get glasses.

Anne didn’t take too long to return. The two girls attached one of the spades to their belts.

“We’re going to have to climb down this cliff and then get to the main camp.”

Anne nodded. They began their descent.

The two girls had spent six years of their lives on this bare terrain and knew it well. They were both excellent climbers and had scaled this cliff many times before. But ever since the explorers had started digging, they had not been allowed to. They did so now, and with great expertise for every part of the cliff was familiar and had a feeling of homecoming to it. They were very confident indeed for they would spot any unnatural differences immediately.

When they reached the top, they immediately ran. They were bound to be spotted if they didn’t move quickly. That was pretty much how life had been. If you didn’t do it and if you didn’t do it better than everyone else, you die. Period. No pity, no mercy. You took everything you got. It couldn’t be deemed selfish. The time to be honorable was long gone and over.

The two sisters had reached the east side of the wall. The girls started digging. Within a quarter of an hour, they had made a sizeable hole under the wall.

“Ira, I don’t think I want to go first”, came Anne’s voice.

‘understandable”, said Ira and began to wriggle through. She passed through fairly quickly and saw a large chest in front of her. What luck! They could hide behind it!

Anne’s face appeared under the wall. Soon, the two girls were cowering behind the chest, waiting for an opportune moment to explore the excavation camp.

Chapter 2

This so-called ‘opportune’ time came about half an hour later. The workers packed up and turned in for the night.

It was 7:00 p.m. when the girls had left home. Now, the sky had grown much darker. For this, both the girls were glad there was no moon because the mere presence of the moon could mean death.

They slowly crept out. Anne searched the drawers and shelves while Ira examined the many shelves.

“Ira!”, Anne’s voice cracked through the silence like a whip.

Ira whipped around, certain that they had been discovered.

Anne held up a crumbling old (what else do you expect? It to be in mint condition, straight off the shelf of a bookstore?), which, in its younger days, must have been quite a beautiful book. It had a strong brownish leather cover and thickly cut pages. Ira reached out for it, but Anne moved the book out of reach and hissed, “Not here! We don’t have time!”

Ira apologetically withdrew her hand and said, “We’d better go’’.

The two girls, in their excitement, had forgotten to keep a check on their voices. Almost at once, torchlights began to sweep the camp.

“Finally, we agree”, said Anne.

They ran. As fast as they possibly could. They ran as though their lives depended on it (well, their lives did sort of depend on it) almost at once, torchlights picked out Anne’s retreating back.

“Come on!”, cried Ira, “move faster!”

They were now meters away from the hole. Few more feet…

Ira stopped, the sad realization dawning on her.

“You have to go. We won't make it”, she said.

“What? What about you?”

“They saw only one girl”, Ira said sadly, but in an even tone.

“What? No…you can’t possibly-”

“Do not tell me what I can and can’t do, Anne.”, she said. In a lighter vein, she continued, “If I come with you, they will investigate and both of us will be caught. This diary…you have to keep it safe. Don’t tell anyone about it unless you’re in a huge problem.”

“Please…please don’t leave…”

“I’ll never leave. Now, go!”

Anne, choking back tears stumbled through the hole. She heard gunshots followed by screams as she emerged safely on the other side of the wall. Here, she couldn’t stem the tears. They just kept flowing. Unable to see the tears clouding her eyes, she ran off blindly into the dark night.

Chapter 3

Anne showed up crying hours later at her doorstep. Her parents, as you will be surprised to know, were unconcerned as to her whereabouts.

Now, in most families, the children have a certain curfew. They are expected to return home around that time. You know, I have a friend who has to get home at like 7:30. It’s so silly! But back to the point, here, Mr. and Mrs. Walt Whitman were not the brightest and sharpest parents, but honestly, in such a situation, any person should probably worry. And take appropriate actions.

Now around this time, the parents are expected to raise questions as to the obvious distress of the present child.

then, the man of the moment steps up.

“Where have you been? And why, why are you crying?”, said Mr. Whitman. Really, question of the century.

Anne was the kind of person who had the mysterious and rare gift of communication. No; not plain old communication. Communication with adults. When Anne converses with an adult, the massive age gap kind of fades into nothing. Anne put this particular talent to good use and pored out all the details of their excursion. All except, the diary. She kept that matter quiet. She cried even more as relived the events of the night. Eventually, Mrs. Whitman carried the girl off to bed.

Whoever said that everything seems better in the morning, is so drastically wrong. In the morning, you have a more alert brain, which helps you think of more unhappy prospects. Anne woke up feeling so dead upset, that she would have cried if she had any tears left. Her mother, who did manage to be sensitive (it’s rare. Very, very rare). 

Anne began to prepare for a life without her life.

One year later.

“This is the fifth time we are discussing this, Anne.”

“I happen to know that. And I am not backing down!”

Her father just glared at her.

She continued, “I will not leave. This is my home! And I will not give it up for some silly job. Aren’t you earning enough as it is?”

“Enough! I refuse to debate what is already debated a million times with you. You can stay here and ‘say goodbye’ or whatever and come up next week. One of us will come for you. Your mother and I will proceed north.”

Anne smiled in satisfaction. She had gotten what she wanted.

That night she sat alone on her bed. Her mind drifted to Ira. It had been a year, but Ira’s face and the love in her eyes remained fresh in her eyes. Usually, when she arrived at this line of thinking, she would feel immense guilt. She died for me. I should have stopped her. I’m so selfish! 

However today she had a different feeling. A sort of pride in her chest. A stirring feeling. She took her time but eventually recognized it as pride. It was a feeling that she had had no reason to feel in the past. I am lucky. Lucky to have met, let alone know so well, such a brave and selfless person. She was an amazing person. 

Her mind went back to that night. How stupid they had been! And then,

“The diary!” she cried and vaulted across the room. She reached a stone cupboard (weird right?) and dug through the shelves. She had completely forgotten about it!

She found it at last and went to the edge of her bed. She sat down and began to read:

I, FOR SOME REASON, MET HER.

 

I am certain that Malhaar had a problem with me. 

I knew that I was the new girl. That people would take time to become friendly with me. I had encountered many people who hated me to the core. I had fought back and left them bruised. Their will shattered. But not her. She had this kind of force. A feeling. It was this that made me feel that she would make a formidable enemy. But I was equally certain that she would become an honest (not very), loyal, and supportive friend if I could just solve whatever problem she had with me. 

Thankfully, that did not take long. I became friends with a girl who played with Malhaar and her snotty gang (which I would later join.)

Her name was Amudha. We spent a lot of time together. 

 

Amudha ditched quite a few times to be with me. I appreciated the gesture which obviously meant that she cared. But I was sure that this would not heighten the previously negligible feeling of relative positivity towards me from Malhaar.

Too right, it didn’t. but it wasn’t as bad as I expected. She continued to throw me angry glances when I passed by, but at least the situation didn’t worsen. Maybe Amudha wasn’t a very good friend of hers. 

 

At last, the fateful day arrived. The treacherous idea shot through her mind-numbingly stupid brain. 

“Let me introduce you to Mal!”

 

This was what I had been dreading. But, I thought, if they already hated me, how much could it hurt to go?

Boy was that the best decision I ever made.

When I got there, Malhaar threw me one cold withering look before rearranging her features and settling for glaring at Amudha. As the evening progressed, her attitude improved. She became surprisingly chill. We played normally. She didn’t single me out. I was just another kid. 

I SAW THE TRUE IDIOSYRANCY OF MALHAAR.

I had been with Malhaar’s folk for a while now. I almost completely fit in. except…my atrocious skills with a ball. 

I couldn’t throw. I definitely couldn’t catch it. I was hopeless.

So that particular day, we decided to play throwball. ‘great’, I remember thinking, ‘I get to make a fool out of myself’.

The first round went…ok? Malhaar placed me on the side of the field to catch any stray balls that came. The first ball came my way. I missed it by a good 4 feet.

I heard Malhaar muttering, “Yeah no. maybe not.”

So, for the rest of the game, I stood in front of a girl who was in the perfect position to take the catch when I missed it.

The captain in the next round was not that smart. She gave me a prime position in the middle of the field (is that a prime position? I wouldn’t know) where I promptly missed all the throws.

Around that time, I saw Malhaar leaning over to the girls beside her and whispering something. Well, not something. She was telling everyone to throw the ball at me. I would fail to catch it and they would get a handful of points. Furiously, I left.

Nobody noticed, which kind of hurt. I obviously hadn’t made an impact.

I went over to a bench and calmed myself down. Looking back, I don’t think I did a very good job. Why?

Oh, because the first thing I did when I got back was knock the ball out of her hands and scream,

“You don’t care, do you? You’re just going to do anything to win? To keep your sill reputation? You’re just-”

“It isn’t my fault that you aren’t good enough.”

I stared at her. She began her way back to her tower. I followed her and just outside her tower,

“You know the old saying, ‘Never judge a book by its cover’? turns out, I should have judged you by your cover!”

As I stomped off, I heard her say, “Fine. If you want to be cold, be cold.”

Amudha rushed behind me. We took a walk down the fire ramp. Throughout the whole walk, I was silent, letting Amudha’s voice wash over me. She was in the middle of a long speech about how Malhaar was a bossy twit. And that’s when I promised myself that Malhaar would pay. Pay for everything.

A BETRAYAL AND A COMPULSION

2 weeks later

On the outside, my friendship with Malhaar rekindled. But I was still eager to make her pay. And the best way to do that was to get close to her and betray her.

So, one fine day, we went to the game area to play chess. I was idly asking her questions which led to her telling me the full history of the group. That, I agree, was not priceless information. What followed was.

I do not remember exactly what she told me, but I certainly do remember giving that information away. After the game, she rose and said, “I’m going home. Please don’t tell anyone about today. Don’t mention this to anyone. I am going to trust you.”

Well, that I didn’t do. Minutes after she disappeared into the elevator, I went to the monkey bars outside tower 5 and told Nishka and Amudha everything.

Well, I didn’t know those two didn’t have a spine. Spine enough to stand up to her. Nishka chickened out. Amudha wouldn’t carry through. I was alone in this battle. And for once, I had to ignore my instincts and keep my head down.

Besides, she might even turn out to be nice. Right?

SURPRISINGLY STUPID SUMMER CAMP

Well, this is way on the next side of the calendar. Well, 17 pages later. No actually not 17. You know what? I’m just going to start.

It’s been a few months since the betrayal incident. The last few months have been uneventful. Basically, it's too insignificant for my memory. So, I jump to May.

Another crazy idea formed in her eagerly scheming mind. I’m going to skip the boring summer camp planning part. Nothing happened around that time except the slow creation of long boring lists and a few unsuccessful flames end results.

 

I, due to a trip to Andaman, was compelled (beach vs teaching screaming idiots? I think beach wins) to miss the first few days of camp.

If, in your mind, you see us taking notes in a classroom headed by a stern, white-haired woman, then you are sadly mistaken. No, here we were the unfortunate teachers.

When I landed in my house after the trip, I was looking forward to sleeping in. The doorbell and Malhaar thought otherwise. Half-asleep, I walked to the door and yanked it open. There stood Malhaar, fully dressed, with an annoyed look on her face.

With a groan, I shut the door and made an effort to go down.

I made my way to Tower 1 and stuck my head into the yoga room. One look was all it took to know that the rest of my holidays was screwed. It was a …dance class. And it was a…a…a Hindi song. Now, this was certainly going to be the death of me.

I will skip the details. I am unwilling to write anything that will describe in any way the true nature of the stupidity of what we did there.

This much, however, I will say: the dance itself was nothing short of pathetic.

After that, we went down to sports. They played football with my frenemy. Or maybe just the enemy.

(around this time, I know that Malhaar will be screaming "You started it! you kicked him first!”)

Well, the first day was ok. I handled life skills very badly. I was trying to teach them about volcanoes, and they were watching Malhaar do cartwheels.

The next day:

The dance class- ok. passable.

The sports class-NOT OKAY! Arjun played football again. I was a bit rude.

(Malhaar: bit? Bit?)

Reading and writing: AMAZING because I got on Preet’s nerves.

(Malhaar nodding ruefully)

LifeSkills: bad. For me.

(Malhaar: well, I loved it!)

The next day:

I was bored. Asmi was exhausted. Malhaar was…wait what was she like? Anybody got some good adjectives?

We took a day off because we were done. (Malhaar: you only did 4 days! We did a lot more!)

On that day off, you’d think I could sleep. Well, I still came down. Malhaar and Asmi were already there. I climbed up the steps and joined them. We were grading one of Malhaar’s twisted stories with the steps. Just when we were having fun, Arjun walked in. I got really mad because he was acting like a jerk. So, I went up and kicked him. In return, he shoved me, and I fell. Down the steps. On more and I would have cracked my skull.

I got up. I don’t know just how angry I was. Ask Asmi. Malhaar will twist it around.

He apologized. I, being the epitome of forgiveness, forgave him. (sarcasm)

(Malhaar: I don’t know whether to feel proud or angry)

THE GREAT CONSTITUTION OF MALHAAR.

After the summer camp, I had no proper means of communication with Malhaar. We continued our morning visits but when Asmi pulled a late wake up, it was pure torture.

I would go down on time. 9 o’clock sharp. Then at around 9:15, Preet would show up and we both would go up to Asmi’s house to call her down.

The simple analogy really.

Asmi= heavy sleeper

Heavy sleeper= late wake-up

Late wake up= morning which Asmi misses

Morning which Asmi misses= torture

Therefore, Asmi= torture!

One evening, I was moping about with Nishka. We got to talking and I goaded her into telling me a few things.

She um…said that Asmi …well, hated me.

Well, that hurt. I went home after promising not to disclose this to anyone. (well, I guess that means, ‘don’t publish it)

I sat on the couch. 12 o’clock. I stare at a book and pen on the polished wooden surface in front of me. Something had been nagging at the back of my head. Should I? should I write?

I opened the first page. There was no plot. The words just kept flowing. It just kept going and going. Like my hands knew what they were doing but my brain didn’t.

(Malhaar: your brain never knows!)

At 3:00 a.m. I put my pen down. I collapsed back onto the covers (exactly what I feel like doing now) and fell asleep. Sorry, just the plain old truth. I just did.

The next morning, I woke up to a buzzing alarm. Half an hour later, I stepped out, armed with the notebook and pen in case Asmi didn’t come. Well, she didn’t. but someone did.

Preet was rambling on. That was normal. Then she saw the book in my hand. That was not normal.

“Why do you have a book with you?”

“Is carrying a book illegal in the great constitution of Malhaar?”

“Why do you have it?”

“It’s the book I’m writing.”

There I paused to enjoy the effect of those words. I have only one word to describe her expression. It was…priceless.

She took it. read it. I told her not to read chapter 2.5. But Preet being Preet, read it anyway.

Well, that was the chapter on her. How I met her. Basically, a much smaller version of this.

I hate to say this, but I’m glad I went down. I’m glad she showed up. I’m glad I got an idea.

It was our shared obsession with writing, reading, and crime that made us friends. Those four chapters brought us together as friends.

So, I thank the black lily.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU,

NOBODY LIKES YOU!

Quoting Wednesday:

Birthday- yeah

Happy- never

Well, I started out happy. I had invited people over. I was supposed to have an amazing birthday. 

I’m not going to lie, I had a good morning. We had all arranged to meet at the amphitheater at 9:00. It was friendship day. 

I went up to Preet’s house and called her down. She hated me around that time, as I recently found out. Which kind of explains her actions. 

But she didn’t show it and came down quite willingly. She also forgot to wish me well. I didn’t really mind. She didn’t remember until we were outside in the morning air. Then she said, “Oh right! I forgot! Happy birthday.”

 

I remember giving a skeptical look before acknowledging her salutation. After that, the others showed up and I didn’t really get much of an opportunity to converse with her. And in this lazy manner, the morning slipped by.

I actually had a very peaceful kind of day. It was a very relaxed day until the clock struck 5:00. 

Tanya arrived first followed by Amudha and Hana. Asmi and Nishka came after them. And the one person who I wanted to come with decided to come ‘fashionably late’. She finally showed up at 5:27. 

Everything was ok. the games totally flopped but I think people were happy with the pani-puri. I wasn’t because I had to make Hana’s. if I didn’t, she would probably end up overturning the vessel by accident. 

Then, we went out to play. We were outside Tower 5 in a mode of indecision when I saw Malhaar, Asmi, and Nishka run away. I ran to the edge and pressed my nose against it. sure enough, I saw them just between towers 2 and 3. I took off after them and caught up with them. “Malhaar!”

She turned to look at me. I threw the book I had meant to lend her across. It landed at her feet. She picked it up. I must have looked murderous because they looked very uncomfortable. I turned and ran back to the others. My head was spinning. How could they try and ditch me on my birthday?

 

I went home and called Hana’s father to take her home. Whatever happened, it was a sure-shot sign that they didn’t care. Asmi and Nishka could keep going for all I cared. It was Malhaar who made it hurt. 

I stormed over to the gifts I got. I picked up Malhaar’s gift and extracted a brown diary. I hurled it at the wall. It bounced off and fell to the floor. 

 

“useless friendships”, I muttered as I went to dinner. 

 

At 9:00ish, I received 5 to 6 emails in quick succession. I opened up the first one, saw who it was from. I would have shut it off if not for the word sorry. I opened up the first email and read:

‘you’re killing me. I’m on the verge of tears. Please forgive asmi, please?’

‘I will write every book I have ever written on paper and give it to you to tear apart’ 

‘ I will go to the end of the world and back (if my parents let me). Just please forgive Asmi. Please?’

‘please? I’ll kneel before you if you want but please forgive Asmi’

 

So. This was all for Asmi. Ever so encouraging. But I needed her a lot more than she needed me. 

‘extravagant levels of apologies you have. Now let me clear up that you I will forgive. Asmi too. Nice emails. Seems like you really lived them.’

 

That was the first birthday I ever cried on. 

BEST FRIEND OR WORST ENEMY?

"Please tell me you won't come for the Independence Day celebration! it will be social suicide for me!"

Preet meant it as a joke, but I flared up at once. I had been wanting to break this friendship for a while now. Now that she was fine with me, I was coming between her and Asmi. I thought I should break it up before I began to care too much. it was already very late. 

"No. if you don't want me to come then why should I?"

She covered it up with some focusing on my face rubbish and asked the question, "Are you...guilt tripping me? Because it's working well."

"Shut up. And go back to Asmi. she's the only one who can handle you."

I might have been a lot ruder than I meant to be. 

"You can't deal with me, then get lost! I don't want to handle you either."

I remained silent. I guess she sensed my regret because she said, "I'm giving you one chance. Speak now. "

it was pretty funny since Speak Now by Taylor Swift was playing in the background.

Well, that broke me. I told her about how much it hurt when I saw Asmi and her together and them sharing secrets. She gave me a long speech about the grass being greener on the other side or something. Then she told me that I was a better friend than Asmi. 

Well, this was exactly what I had tried to prevent. 

I went down half an hour later. Preet was in the middle of a practice session for the play that was being staged. the second they let her off, she ran up to me and said, "We have a lot to talk about."

I saw Nishka throw me a dirty look. as if she already knew. what we spoke about remains a bit hazy to me (hey! it was months ago!) but I do know that our conversation included a large range of other topics. eventually, Preet went home, and I went to the library. Our friendship status was still undefined. I thought it best to leave it that way. 

and that was the 14th of August. 

                   and now, I sign myself, 

                                            ~R

Anne finished reading and sat back. It was actually just a normal book. But, for some inexplicable reason, she felt a kind of stirring inside her. A familiarity. A warm feeling. Like something she knew. Almost like home…