Media box has Manik in white but imagine him in all black for the last scene, and shower your love please <3

⭒

18 September 2010

Babbu, you must be wondering what has been going on and why I haven't updated you lately. It's 4:33 am on a Saturday morning. I have brushed, showered and made myself a coffee. As per my timetable that I had set up for myself, I'm supposed to be practicing my vocal variety today, but my heart is not there yet.

The last few days has been more or less a blur. I have a vague idea how lifelessly I passed the days, but nothing much to comment about them. I'm hoping this entry will help me empty my mind and help me refocus on the competition ahead. 

Let's start with Ammamma's promise–Harshad had made it super easy by choosing me in his band. NH2, he called it, that was until I wanted to talk to Navya about the scene that took place with Manik's band and on Tuesday, she left Aryamann hanging to sign up for music herself.

We became NH3, and practiced for an hour that day. Navya was on the piano, Harshad was the lead vocalist and guitarist, and after penning down a verse briefly, Harshad had asked me to sing to a tune. It was repulsive to say the least, but the other two proclaimed me to be on the vocals.

Having regained a bit of confidence from our jam session, I had mustered the courage to talk to Manik. I waited for Aiyappa only knows how long, then hid behind a wall as Abhi entered their rehearsal room before I could, reminding me of the distance I needed to maintain with Manik.

On Wednesday evening, I had invited Aryamann over to study with me after school. Navya's stunt of leaving him in theatre alone might have upset him, so I thought he would have appreciated some company. Along with that was the opportunity to have some salted chilli biscuits that Chikkamma eagerly wanted to prepare for a while. The biscuits weren't bad, but I managed to make an excuse and save Aryamann of the trouble! That evening had kept me distracted, and sprouted a new perspective to the situation.

Why was I the one supposed to go and talk it out? If anything, while his friends were saying all kinds of horrible things to me... some of which I had not even understood... neither him nor Mukti whom I considered closest to me had taken a stand. That Wednesday had ended with me crying myself to sleep.

Chikkamma was a bit concerned about my plummetted mood on the morning of Thursday and made me stay home and help her sort out the kitchen cabinets. I did not want to refuse, and it kept me occupied on Thursday, when Shahid–from one of the SPACE boarding hostels–joined the band as a drummer.

Yesterday, I had made it to school earlier than usual as I was dropped off by Abhi, and Manik and I had crossed paths in the corridor back from assembly. "Manik..." I had called.

He continued walking while rolling his eyes at me. That action had hurt.

"I don't understand why you're angry, if anything I think I should be the one behaving the way you are," I said, agitated and at wit's end.

He stared at me. At least he had listened. Had I pleaded, he probably would not have. "That's ridiculous," He had unconsciously walked towards me, as I nuzzled into a coveted space under the staircase, against a wall, feeling trapped. That courage I had built up over the last few days had exponentially declined in its intensity upon seeing him. 

My throat ran dry, "Your friends were saying such horrid things about me that day. You know how hurtful that would have been for me, and you just let them," It was so uncharacteristic of me to say those things, even hearing them out loud from my own mouth made me a little sick to my stomach. I had never openly spoken about my pain like that in front of anyone outside family, never had felt that powerless in front of anyone.

With Manik face to face, I was now brutally exposed–all my scars on my sleeve. Vulnerable.

"What did you expect, that I would worship you? You must be feeling... ki you're entitled to everyone's attention. Everyone would favour you, hai na, because you are Abhimanyu's sister?" He grasped my elbows fiercely, shaking me to look at him. No, I couldn't. "God, you are so ungrateful, do you even know that? Mukti had protected you from Harshad, she had fought with him just because he had dragged you and Abhimanyu between his fight with us. But you... what did you do? You turned your back on her and went and teamed up with him,"

His nails were biting into my skin, stinging me, but any amount of physical pain would have been endured in exchange for the merciless coldness he was exhibiting to me. No.

I had opened my mouth, but could not hear my own voice. Only a hiccup at the pinch in my heart.

Why was I struggling to speak?

"You must have thought ki you are invincible. So let me go, and partner up with Harshad, right?" No. "So yes, you have all the rights to be angry but thank God you aren't." His tone was laced with sarcasm, and a bland smile that twisted my guts.

Shit! What had I done?

He shoved me away like a piece of trash, an eyesore he did not want to see again. My back hit the wall but the impact of it was a longing stare at my elbows he had clutched. He examined his hands, similar to the Ganesh pooja night, then looking down, he licked his lips, and looked at me with a stone cold stare.

"Get one thing very clearly into your head, Miss. Nandini Murthy." He dabbed my temple. "I will never forgive you for this," My heart had sunk as Manik went away, not batting an eye in my direction.

That day I could not focus in class. The conversation had put me in a terrible mood, and a throbbing headache was making it's way over my body like a wave of fatigue. I had been taking notes, my tears randomly rolling and falling onto pages as my subconscious replayed the scene over and over again. I had dodged a few concerned remarks from Navya and Aryamann, but how much longer could I carry on?

By the morning break, I really couldn't pull through. When I met Mukti at the nurse's office, she had placed a palm over mine. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm really sorry Mukti," My voice cracked, and I shut my mouth with my fist to conceal the whimper. For next year's resolution, if there was one wish I could ask for, it was for the ability to express myself without shedding one tear.

"Why are you sorry? I should be the one saying sorry for not speaking up that day... Harshad and I had got into an argument about something the previous night, and..."

"Manik told me,"

"But don't worry, he won't hurt you. He wants to outsmart us and he intends to use your band to defeat us in the competition this week," In my dazed mind, it took a while to realise she meant Harshad. Not Manik. "Maybe Manik will tell you the whole story about it someday," She smiled sweetly.

"If he will ever talk to me again..."

"Of course he will, honey... he knows that you don't play such dirty tricks," she had said.

If only she had known... that Manik's opinion of me had been so much worse than that.

My mood has become worse since writing all this but I needed to let it out of my system I think. I hope after this I can focus on my music for a while. Talk soon, Babbu.

⭒⭒⭒

22 September 2010

Sleep is beyond me.

It's past midnight, so actually the 23rd today but I have been in so much pain.

Manik rejected me for the second time today.

Last week, I had been so selfish to think only about my dignity, my own pain and sorrow when it came to confronting Manik regarding the Fab5 and NH3 showdown.

Over the weekend, I had gone to the playground where Manik's friends usually play just to see him for a bit. He, and the rest of them, were nice to my face because Abhimanyu was around, which made me even more uneasy. I would any day take his venomous anger over this shallow regard for my existence.

I didn't know what it would take for Manik to listen. To understand me, and my side of it.

The last time we spoke, I had been accusing. He was clearly hurt, and I had chosen offense to tackle that, which failed miserably. He was extremely angry, and it was valid for him to feel that way. From his end, I had betrayed his sister, I had used her kindness to my advantage.

But he needed to know my side too, where I was just as much in the dark as he was.

Which meant wearing my heart on my sleeve another time, and opening up to him–there was no other way around it. I had to prepare myself to face his aggression. 

Today was Wednesday, and I had gotten my period a week early this time. I was in excruciating pain myself, but I had waited after school... without any awareness of time, without any urgency to go anywhere... just hopelessly waited to meet him and clear it out once and for all. With every person that walked past me, I had begun to feel it was a bad idea–if what Mukti said was true about Harshad wanting to win the competition at all costs, my being here would cause more distractions for them.

After all, I had managed to rationally stay away from Manik for eight full days–even if not completely, there was minimal contact. What was two more?

I had felt extremely uneasy by then, my cramps overpowering me. I did not have the energy to talk to him about anything, even though there was so much I wanted to say–about how these past few days had felt without him in it. If I were to see him that day, I just wanted to be held by him.

Then I finally met him on the staircase I was resting in, and he had taken the conversation on a different tangent, and despite wanting to cling to Mukti's wisdom about Manik not seeing me in that light, I sensed a different Manik around me.

He was battling with something internally when he almost kissed me. Then seemingly concluding something, he had pulled away; his touch had been stern and assertive, yet familiar. I had felt deprived and beyond ashamed of myself for wanting it even more. What kind of a granddaughter was I, to not imbibe the basic virtues I had been expected to maintain!?

Torn between the word I had given to my grandmother, and my desperation to clear all misunderstandings between us, I wanted to tell him everything. Everything that I heard from Mukti, everything I saw about Harshad, my lecture from Ammamma, my growing feelings for him. Everything. And in return, I needed him to open up to me, and help me fill in the blanks so I could understand Manik Malhotra better. Because if he allowed me to, I would have done anything to erase his pains away.

We could make it as a team, and tackle our concerns together as a team.

Unfortunately, Manik had premade two decisions on behalf of the both of us: one, he was betrayed by me–for no fault of my own–and nothing I said or did was going to change that decision; and two, he couldn't trust me–for no fault of my own.

⭒⭒⭒

24 September 2010

I pushed the door to the old staff room that was split into two with a makeshift curtain for this program. Our band troops had assembled here.

Shahid and Navya were already rehearsing their tunes next to their instruments. Navya's piano stood to the right of Shahid's drumset. There was a small aisle to walk between Navya and the blue velvet curtain, where two stools were placed. To the left of the room was a sleek mirror and dresser drawer, meant for quick makeup touch-ups before going on stage. It had lights on its rims.

I stumbled in my royal blue maxi-dress and a high ponytail. The ends of my hair were swirled with the help of a friend tending to Abhimanyu almost an hour ago. Aiyappa! I didn't remember anything. What was the first line again?

Our intraschool music competition was taking place today. One makeup artist from the theatre club was pulled in to help us get touch-ups before our live show, the puffiness under my eyes was pointed out by her but then sufficiently concealed with her help.

We had been up until four thirty this morning, at Harshad's place practicing. He had his moods too, sometimes excited that we did so well, sometimes frustrated that we were messing up something so silly. I had gotten a fair share of scoldings, but  I was glad we were all together because sleep would not have consumed me even otherwise. In the basement, Fab 5 were rehearsing as well, and I hadn't known until a weird calmness and sense of purpose, similar to the nights when Rishabh would be wheeled into the hospital, flooded through my veins. I wasn't sure if it was to do with potentially seeing Manik at this hour, the man who had ruthlesly shattered me two evenings ago, or if it was a brooding sense of doom for what was to come over the next few days–the calm before the storm.

"Nandini I think this dress is too long for you, are you comfortable?" She asked, lifting my dress near my hips, revealing my simple sandals. "I can't see your feet even like this, try wearing my heels,"

"I'm okay, really." My dress and my physical appearance had to be the least of my worries today. The nerves were over the roof.

"Try not to force those hideous things on everyone," 

"Shahid, shut up!" Shahid chuckled and earned a nice beating from Navya. "Nandini, you tell me, do these look too much?" She lifted her long flaired skirt to showcase a ballroom silver heel with crystal studs wrapped around the stiletto. It looked more glittery than what I would have worn for the occasion, but it made her feet pop. And she seemed to feel beautiful in them.

The last few days had been rough on her as well. She was seeing different shades to Harshad's temperament that she hadn't anticipated, and he was growing increasingly irritable around her as well. Perhaps he had an idea of her crush and was wanting to maintain some distance from her. Her emotions, open and freeflowing, mirrored my restrained ones in some instances, and while advising her about it, I often found myself crying along with her. She would get concerned and hold me, while I would brush it off by saying I was putting myself in her shoes and imagining how it would have been for her. Our bond grew over the last two weeks with our collective crying sessions.

I brought one of the tucked curls on her shoulder. "It's gorgeous on you, Navya," I tapped her chin. "Is this what you meant by sweetheart top?" She was wearing a white blouse with sheer sleeves that hugged her frame well. 

She nodded and looked at the boy in the room, "See Shahid, you're going to have a very difficult time sweeping a girl off her feet. Some day, you would need our help for that, so just keep that in mind haan?"

"Don't worry, I'll make sure that girl will not watch SRK movies–especially not with a box of tissues, will not be wooed by any filmy lines and I would most of all make sure she will not repeat any Ranbir Kapoor dialogues with me at gunpoint," I pressed my smile between my fingers, while Navya gaped in disbelief, her cheeks puffed as she looked for something to fling at him.

My eyes were drawn to the ticks of a clock in the room. "Guys, I want to do one practice together, but I wonder where Harshad's gone..." 

Navya moved from my side and was shoveling her bag for small cardboard box. "I brought something meetha for us to have before the performance, does anyone have a phone with them?" Navya said with a hint of disappointment laced in her voice. I shook my head.

"Our call time was 2:40, it's 2:52 now and we're performing at 3:10, he should have been here by now," Shahid said, pulling his phone from his blazer pocket.

I plucked the sheet of paper lying on a stool, and sat on it by the edge of the curtain, desperately memorising my lines last minute. I had felt like I had forgotten everything just as I entered. After all, I only had two verses to sing, one was the starting solo and the chorus with Harshad that looped twice. The rest was Harshad's headache to deal with.

Fab5 came in from the side of the curtain closest to me–Cabir and Mukti, followed by Dhruv and Alia. They were all talking as they made their way to the small vanity near Navya and Shahid. Manik was tying his shoelaces behind the curtain, behind me.

As he rose and paced into the makeshift green room, Manik's foot nudged my stool. The seat wobbled and I promptly got off to escape a huge fall. I pulled my fingers into fists instinctively to grip onto something nearby when Manik's hand brushed past me, and two of his left fingers enveloped in them.

He spiralled at the pull, flooring me with his appearance. His eyebrows were crisp and trimmed, his clean shave from two days ago was no longer apparent, and his outfit–all black formals with a red trim around his shoes. As he eyed me and then stilled, several questions blazed through my mind. Was he wondering how I got there? Or why I was holding his hand?

The wiggling seat twirled and bumped into me. One of its rusted nails caught the back of my dress and it cleanly cut through all the layers of fabric. When the stool hit the tiles, the clang reverberated in the room. I drew a breath, releasing his hold and swivelling in my spot to estimate the tear.

Manik followed my gaze and without a second thought, he crouched down examining the situation himself. The cut was from the back of my knees to my ankle. It was such a beautiful dress, I couldn't believe I had torn it and there was not enough time to handsew the tear before the performance. The cherry on top was that I was also blessed with a thin stream of blood under my ankle. How had I not felt the sting of the nail at all?

I wondered how many people had seen the fiasco unravel.

Dhruv and Cabir had their eyebrows furrowed at us, standing the furthest from the scene and hence wholly unaware of what they had missed. Alia had left with the organiser to figure out positions and spacing. Mukti had been in a world of her own–and was only alerted at the sound. Shahid and Navya were trying to reach Harshad's cell and seemed confused and worried by the startle.

My stomach churned uneasily at all the attention on us. Nobody else knew anything about us yet, and if they had even an inkling, it would only be a matter of minutes until Abhi knew. And after what he pulled with Ammamma last week, I was sure I would get the whiplash of my life if he found out.

I heard Manik unbuckle something and felt the layers of my dress pull together at the rip. 

He was weaving two metal cufflinks through the gap to seal it in two places: just under my knees and a few inches above my wounded ankle. My eyes began to sting. In a black buttoned up shirt and suit trousers of the same colour, he was more attractive than usual. In front of all his friends and members of my band, he was sitting by my feet and helping me out without any hesitation, why?

Had it been three days ago, I would have been head over heels at this gesture alone, but why now... after he ended everything between us? 

His hands dangled in the air, probably repulsed by the act himself. He didn't have to do it.

I gently slid my foot away, my tears now brimming. He securely brought it back in place, and took a handkerchief from his front pocket and dabbed the blood away... ever so gently... ever so carefully noting any flinches or winces from me as he moved. With a stinging pain in the left of my chest, I forcefully shut my eyes, letting the droplets fall.

He looked up at me. His eyes pierced through me until I met them, and he restlessly turned away, getting back up. Rolling his sleeves to his elbows, he wiped the top of a hand and dispersed, as if completely unaffected by everything that transpired.

If only I could stop feeling so much as well.   

Aiyappa! What was he doing to me? 

"I didn't know if I should have come over. He was already on his knees before I realised what happened," Navya said, worried and apologetic at my tears as she came over to inspect. I shook my head dismissing her apology. It was not because of her that I was crying. "Nandini, they look like silver pins." She gushed in wonder.

Harshad emerged from the curtain behind, abruptly clashing with Navya. "What the hell are you guys doing gathered here?" He asked, running his fingers through his hair. He appeared a little tensed. Shahid briefly explained what had happened without any of the juicy details that Navya would have mentioned if she narrated. The repaired piece of garment was stretched to my side for me to see. 

Two beautiful silver swans glimmered, sealing the torn pieces of fabric together.

"A symbol of love," Navya murmured in a trance.

"No way," Harshad and I said in unison, him out of pure dismissal while I was in sheer disbelief.

No way on Earth did Manik feel anything close to love for me.

⭒

I just realised this is a full Nandini exclusive chapter (my favourite POV to write)!

Vote, comment and subscribe karna mat bhoolna :D ;) Love you guys!