||CHAPTER 27||
《¤》

Strange how my Barbies from school knew about my flight timings, because I wasn't joking when I said I didn't.

"Why are you wearing your school uniform Vika?" Dad asked in a tone I couldn't decipher.

I looked down at my blazer and then at the cornflakes I was supposed to eat and then at the empty bowl of my brother's who was looking at me with equal curiosity.

"Because... It's Friday?" I checked my phone.

"And? Don't you have a flight to catch?"

I let him think that I had genuinely forgotten about the morning flight; because if he knew I hadn't cared to check the time, assuming it would be after school, I'm pretty sure all hell would break lose.

So I quickly went back to my room, which greeted me with the sight of my mini trolley bag and the bagpack I had packed, after Daadi forced me to do so last night. The envelope that Dad had given me weeks ago, still lay inside my drawer, so I fished it out to check the timings.

I rolled my eyes, removing my maroon blazer. I wasn't going to be late if I didn't reach the airport in an hour. And considering it was early morning, I doubt the Delhi Traffic could help me not go.

Arnav was still in the living room when I emerged out of my room, now in a pair of dark blue jeans, bright yellow crop top that my mother hates, with a white hoodie in my hands.

"School nahi jaa raha? You've decided to come with me or what?" I tried to conceal the happy undertone.

"Not at all," He picked up his blazer from the couch, wearing it. "Just wanted to wish you Happy Journey."

I scrunched up my brows, "Dude, Andaman and Nicobar Islands nahi jaa rahi hoon, jo Happy Journey wish kar raha hai. If anything, you should be saying may the odds be ever in your favour or some kind of that bravery shit because what you have escaped and I have to face isn't the Merry-go-round!"

With his bag slinging off his right shoulder, he suddenly came towards me to hug me and pat on my back, and released me before I could react. "Pretty sure Mom hates this bright yellow kid's top, but I know what you're trying to do. So I'll ignore the fact that you actually saw or read Hunger Games, and go now, warna tere wajah se meri bus miss ho jayegi, and then people will think I went to the wedding like a coward."

I gawked at him, narrowing my eyes. "You are a coward."

He ignored my statement, "I'll call you in the evening. Nahi utthaya tho tere room ka halat bigadega!"

Oh boy, as if I cared.

¿¤?

It obviously wasn't the first time that I was travelling alone, and contrary to what one might assume about me, I did not like travelling alone. And I wasn't this complaining in nature today because I was looking for some company, no. I very much liked my solitude, which unfortunately, the air hostesses were not granting me.

"Is there anything you'd like mam?" The head flight attendant asked me for the upteenth time right before I was just about to doze off for the fourth time in the one hour I had boarded the plane. I completely did not understand why Dad had requested for their special services and attention towards me; it was not like I was going to throw a tantrum up in the turbulence.

"When are we landing?" I asked instead of asking her to not do her work.

She glanced at her wrist watch before replying. "We are scheduled to land by ten thirty."

That's what my boarding pass stated too, but that was not what I asked.

She left me to be after a while, and now that she had successfully drained me out of sleep, I grabbed one of the catalogues they kept to criticize their over pricey toys and food. I wondered if I could suggest Dad about opening an Airline company instead, but again, I doubt anyone bought a miniature airplane just because they were bored.

So I did.

Surprise was the first emotion that locked itself in the face of the flight attendant who had left mere minutes ago.

"The... the toy plane?" She asked me.

I fished out some cash from my wallet before nodding. "Yes please."

"Are you sure you want the miniature air bus? There are swiss knife, headphones, and T-shirts too, if you want."

I doubt I'd like to buy those items without a quality check, and offcourse, no variety, but she didn't seem to understand that.

"Yeah, I want the toy air bus. Do you have one of those?"

She nodded and left, only to return few minutes later. I handed her the money, and she gave me the plastic box encasing the airoplane.

"Does anyone buy these, though?" I asked her, my eyes trained on the shiney surface of the toy plane.

"I'm pretty sure you are the first customer I sold this to, but I doubt that they have stopped the production."

I laughed, and she smiled back before leaving. On the seat beside me now sat the airoplane inside its box. I still had three days to survive, but for now, half an hour to kill.

¿¤?

"Welcome to the Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport; Chhatrapati Shivaji Antarrashtriya Hawai Adde mein, aapka swagat hai..."

The worst part of the whole flight thing was travelling the buses that could lead us to the airport from the runway. They started abruptly, and ended abruptly, being the best examples of inertia of rest and motion.

I almost fell down when the bus halted, but that was the thrill of it. Falling but not landing.

In this case, because a middle aged woman was holding onto the pole for her life, but you get the gist of it. She gave me an annoyed look, and I didn't apologise. I think it was pretty ubderstandable that with the toy plane box in my hands, I was bound to fall. I just walked past her, which was difficult considering the crowded bus, and walked into the Airport, towards the baggage claim.

Just after I located my mini trolley bag, Daadi called me, and that was one call I couldn't ignore.

"Abhi bhi plane mein ho kya?" Her worried voice asked, and I let out a smile, walking towards the exit.

"Agar plane mein hoti, tho kya call receive kar rahi hoti, Daadi?"

"Matlab Mumbai pohoch gayi ho? Maanyata mili tujhe? Tujhe kaun lene aa raha hai?"

"Pata nahi. Mera bas chale tho agli flight pakad kar wapas aa jayu."

"Offho, is ladki ka na... Ghar pohoch kar call kar-" she was saying, but I halted in my tracks when I saw my name being waved by a white uniformed chauffeur. He was crowded by a few photographers. Jolly Bua was right, this wedding was a huge deal.

I had my aviators on, so they couldn't recognize me instantly as I walked towards the sign board.

The name was mine, but it wasn't me.

Arvika Oberoi, Arnav Deewan

I let the fact that my mother couldn't come to pick me up slide, because we weren't exactly on talking terms. But I didn't recall discussing changing my surname just because her soon to be husband would become my legal guardian.

"Arvika Oberoi?" The chauffeur asked.

And so, before they could recognize me, I walked away from them, towards the auto and taxi stand.

"Orchid Pearls Bungalows," I said to the driver.

¿¤?

My residence in Mumbai, though not as upscale as my residence in Delhi, was not humble. That wasn't putting it lightly.

I had thought that I would be giving my mother dearest a great suprise if I visited her here, bug little did I know that she was already living with her soon-to-be husband. Quite progressive, wasn't she?

So there I was, stuck with my Naani dearest. I didn't like being around her, she didn't pamper me like Daadi did. My maternal grandmother was... she was a force not be probed with.

"Ye kya pehen rakha hai?" She narrowed her eyes at my mint green crop top. Now I understood from where my mother had got an uncomplimentary style sense. Like mother, like grandmother.

"Kapde hai," I rested my hands on the arm rest. "Mamma kab ayegi?"

"Tumhe lene?" She asked, her saari as crisp as her attitude.

I scoffed, and changed the direction of the conversation. She clearly didn't miss me. "Kaisi ho aap? Mamma ko meri complaint karna tho miss karti hi hongi aap."

"Chandu!" She called out, and in came their new version of Ratan Kaka. "Ye dishes clear karwa. Tumhari Arvika baby mitthayi nahi khayegi."

I stared at the platter of kaaju katri and kala kand in front of me. I wasn't a fan of sweets, but I didn't say I wouldn't be tasting them. That's the thing I hated about my maternal grandmother: she always tried to control my diet, and not in a way that grandparents are supposed to be controlling their grandchildren's diet.

I looked at the picture of my grandfather behind her, adorned with garlands. I didn't have any vivid memories with him, but I knew he was way better than his uptight wife.

"Tumhara kamra ready karwa doon?" She asked, tapping her fingers on the handrest of her couch.

"Nahh," I rose from my place. "Mai aapke hone wale damad ke hi paas apne do din ka aashiyana prefer karungi. Because, you know, unke paas swimming pool hai, indoor gymnasium hai, and games room bhi. And is ghar mein..."

I trailed off, knowing how much my comparison affected her.

Picking up the miniature airbus which I had kept on the coffee table, I checked my phone. Mr. Oberoi had called thrice. Poor man, her didn't even know why his chauffeur had not brought me in yet.

And hence, to relieve him off his distress, I finally made my way towards my mother's new house.

_____

Namoshtaii!

Everyone has two types of Daadi's right? Well...

So i promised a Sunday update, and here it is. Idk y, but i love the portion where vika bought the airplane. Its kinda funny, kinda not.

Also, nxt chapter is something u'd b looking forward to if ur interested in vika's past relations.

Anyways, stay tuned, read, vote, comment and promote!

~emcee.