HEARTFULLY ENTANGLED - CHAPTER 12 - TOWARDS THE NEW DAWN

 12 - Towards A New Dawn

"You will see the light, not because the tunnel was ended, 

but because you walked through it."

I stood in front of the dressing mirror, a towel wrapped around my waist, my fingers combing my damp hair with the coconut oil, my lips whistling a soft tune absentmindedly, until a sudden scream of a familiar female voice cut through the air, "Areh deva! Sorry,"

I startled, my fingers freezing on my hair, turning back swiftly. 

It was Diya. 

She stood in my room, her back facing me, her palms covering her face.

What the hell! 

Again!

Why did she come inside the room without knocking?

This little Diya would neither leave me to sleep peacefully nor leave me to dress myself peacefully, it seemed.

What were all she was going to say and do this time for witnessing me with a towel?

Will she do a purification process for her eyes again?

Above all, who the hell was that Deva? She was calling Deva, Deva, in front of me again and again. I didn't like it even a bit. 

Mr. Music was cute. Arun was good. But Deva....I hated it.

I sighed, my hand reaching for my briefs which was on the dressing table. "Diya, call me, Arun. Not Deva..."

She yelled, intervening me, still her face covered, "Won't you lock the door if you are changing clothes? Why did you keep the room wide open as if your room is a tourist place? At least you can keep it slightly closed na?"

She started her own special yelling pooja. 

The invisible God was there for her to offer devotional pooja, and I was there for her to offer yelling pooja.

I shook off her yell, slipped my legs into my briefs. "Okay, sorry. I will lock the door hereafter. But you, too, don't enter other people's rooms without knocking even if the door is wide open." I took my shorts.

"Hmmmm...." She let out a prolonged hum, her tone carrying an embarrassment, nodding her head left to right slowly yet obediently, making her ponytail sway left and right.

Damn!

Why did her ponytail sway so beautifully as if the dance of a peacock?

My eyes got stuck at her ponytail, my lips curving up as I slipped my legs into my shorts and pulled off the towel.

As I reached for my collared t-shirt, she took a deep breath and added hesitantly, "Okay, sorry. But this is my reading room as I can sit on the balcony, enjoying the entire view of the garden, sipping coffee, immersing myself in fiction. I was searching for a book in my room. As I couldn't find it there, I doubted whether I kept it here. So I walked with the thoughts of the book and entered just like that, forgetting your presence here...." She sniveled. "Sorry...."

I laughed lightly at the way she sniveled like a child. "Okay, leave it. I wore my clothes. You can search for your book now."

"Really?" She asked, her tone dripping with suspicion. "May I open my eyes, trusting you?"

May I open my eyes trusting you? 

The question should have not bothered me. It should have not cracked my heart as if someone had hit my rock heart with a hammer. But it did. 

She needed to ask that question as I was unreliable for her. Nevertheless, it was not her mistake. I behaved like that to her. 

My smile faltered as I replied, "I don't know whether you believe it or not. But I won't cheat or betray the person who trusts me. In fact, there were days..." I gulped down the remaining words.

Damn it!

Why was I spilling words in front of her?

She was not someone who needed to know anything about my past.

There were days I had yearned for someone, at least a single person to trust me enough to talk with me, to hold my hands during my school days. I couldn't have a family, but I at least wanted to have friends. I wished to have someone to tell me, I was not alone. But trust and warmth were not meant for a person like me. All I faced were annoying looks, whispered conversations and gossips that stopped whenever I turned to them, and the tag, 'a boy whose mom is eloped and who is not sure of his dad's name.' That was all I was to them. Not a friend, not a fellow student, but an entertainment, a tool to pass their time!

As if my birth was my mistake!

Later, when I was mature enough to understand their annoying glances, I distanced myself from everyone before they could push me away. I generally lost trust in people. I was surrounded with people, but I came to a decision that I don't need anyone emotionally. After all this! I had put a line for everyone, and never allowed anyone to cross the line. 

But, Diya and her family erased that invisible line of mine without even my knowledge. Her dad trusted me and held my hand. Diya allowed me to stay inside her home even after hurting her. Though I was no one to them, they cared for me, they held my hand, for which I yearned for years and got tired of getting nothing. How could I disrespect something I received after yearning so much? I tried my best to be reliable for everyone in their family. Maybe, that's why, I felt hurt when Diya asked me whether she could trust me.

You get hurt when you try something to your best, still being questioned or accused or suspected.

She intervened with my thoughts, "What? What were you about to say? In fact, there were days....?"

I shook off my thoughts and said, "Nothing. If you can trust me, open your eyes. Otherwise, you can go and bring Vijay,"

She exhaled sharply, removing her palms from her face and turned to me.

A smile appeared on my face as she didn't go to bring Vijay. She might have not trusted me. But she believed me. That was more than enough to make me smile.

"Let me search for my book in the cupboard," she said, stepping towards the cupboard.

I ran my fingers through my hair, setting my hair, asking, "If this is your reading room, shall I change my room?" 

"No. Let me read in the nearby room. All the rooms on the first floor offer a tranquil view from the balcony." She opened the cupboard, scanning it.

I nodded. "Then, who is Deva? You are always calling me Deva."

Her fingers froze on the cupboard at my question, shifting her eyes to me, her lips curving up. "I didn't call you Deva. It's like saying 'oh god' in Marathi,"

"Oh." I made a face. "You know Marathi, too?"

"Yes." She turned to the cupboard again, leafing through the books in the cupboard. "I know Marathi, Tamil, Hindi, English, French and a little bit of Korean."

What?

I blinked, feeling my head spin.

Was she for real? 

She knew countless languages like I knew whiskey brands.

Was learning languages that easy for her?

While I stood stunned, she pulled out a book from the cupboard and closed it. "I got the book...."

Before she could complete her sentence, Vijay peeped inside the room, calling, "Anna (bro)...."

I shifted my eyes towards the entrance and smiled at him. "Come in, Vijay."

He stepped in, his eyes flickering between Diya and me. "Amma called us for breakfast," he said.

"Hmm." Both Diya and I nodded, walking towards him.

As we headed out of the room, he asked Diya, "Found the book, akka?"

"Yes," Diya replied, her eyes glittering with excitement as if reading that book was her dream, her hand patting against the cover in which the title read, 'The perfect soul'. The title or the book meant nothing to me, but the way her eyes shone expressed that reading and books meant everything to her. 

Vijay nodded and turned to me. "Anna, do you have a reading habit?"

Wow! What a question to ask the uneducated me!

All I read were the price tags of clothes, menu cards in the restaurants, bills in the bars and grocery shops. If that counts in reading, yes I read. A lot!

I chuckled. "Yes,"

Diya widened her eyes surprisingly while Vijay exclaimed, "What is the best book you have ever read, anna? What did you learn from it?"

I turned my face away, biting my lips, controlling my laughter, and then turned to him again. "I....The best book I have ever read is restaurant menu cards. It taught me to learn cooking for myself as soon as possible."

While Vijay glared at me, Diya slipped her face away, biting her lips, controlling her smile.

Why was she controlling her smile?

I said, "Diya, if you want to smile, you can smile."

She shifted her gaze to me and forced a grin mockingly. "Eeeeee...I am so glad to know at least you learned something from menu cards. But, be ready to read books, too. I will suggest some books. You should read them without fail. I will ask questions, too, from the books I suggest to you." She chuckled.

What?

What. The. Hell.

I didn't read properly for my board exams itself, but she was talking about some tests from random books. 

Did she think I have no work? Did she forget I was a guitar teacher with commitments to fulfill?

I cleared my throat, my tone flat. "Diya, I have work...."

"Won't you read?" She intervened, one of her hands hugging the book to her chest. "At least one chapter everyday." She squinted one of her eyes, joining her forefinger and thumb, tilting her head slightly. "Just a little everyday."

Damn! That innocent look of hers. That cuteness of hers. How could I say no?

"Okay. But....," I was about to say I was zero in English.

But before I could utter my words, her face lit up immediately with a winning smile, making my heart hammer. 

She had different smiles, like emojis came to life. 

Sometimes, a forced smile. Sometimes, a soft smile. Sometimes, a playful smile. Sometimes, a knowing smile. Sometimes, teasing smile. Sometimes, excited smile.

And then, came this winning smile. It really stood tall against all her smiles I had witnessed till that moment.

I was so doomed.

I would fail countless times if she was going to smile like that. Wouldn't I just agree to read a book? Wouldn't I just try to learn a language? 

I nod my head, agreeing, "Okay. I will read anything you suggest."

Vijay laughed. "Anna, welcome to our NHA."

"NHA??" I looked at him puzzled. "National.... Highway.... A....." I paused without knowing what word to give for the letter A. As if I was writing my school exam without studying acronyms.

Diya covered her mouth, controlling her laughter.

"No. It's our Nodding Head Association." Vijay laughed. "My dad and I were only nodding our heads to my mom and akka whatever they said. Now, we welcome you, too."

What?

How should I react to this?

I just grinned awkwardly without knowing how to respond.

By this time, we reached the dining hall. 

The rich aroma of chicken curry, mixed with the soft fragrance of idlis permeated in the air, stirring something deep within me. It felt like an aroma of something you could get only at home, only with the mother's cooking and I was going to eat it.

I swallowed hard, controlling myself not to stumble towards them emotionally, my fingers fidgeting.

"I should not think of her as a mom," I said to myself. "She is just the owner of this house."

Krishna sir looked at me while munching his food. "Arun, what are you thinking? Sit down,"

I blinked, forcing a smile at him and settled near him.

Vijay settled himself in a dining chair, picking a plate for him. "Maa, we are here," he announced.

"Coming, Shonu," Payal mam replied from the kitchen.

Diya placed her book on an empty chair and settled near Vijay. 

Soon, Payal mam entered the dining room with hot casseroles and served us the idly and chicken curry, and then she, too, settled near Vijay for her breakfast. 

Krishna sir said to her with a gentle smile, "Today's breakfast is awesome, my butterfly," 

Butterfly?

Was it Payal mam's nickname?

I glanced at her, to make sure whether it was really her nickname. She blushed for no reason, which confirmed her nickname enough.

Suddenly, a wave of embarrassment rose in me as I felt like I was sitting right in the middle of a couple's romance.

I shook my head subtly, lowering my eyes and turned my concentration on my plate.

As I parted a small piece of idly, dipping it with the chicken curry, Vijay intervened, "Appa, stop romancing and listen to me. Do you know? A girl proposed to me this morning through text."

What?

I blinked, my fingers froze on the chicken curry.

Proposal?

He was just 15. How could he even receive a proposal? Even if he received it, how could he say it casually to his parents? If I said the same to my so-called parents, they would have created a third world war in our home.

"Through text?" Diya laughed, interjecting my thoughts. "What did she say?"

I waited for his response, half curious, half baffled.

He smirked, leaning back, shrugging his shoulders. "Actually, her name is Rithanya. She texted me last night, saying, the moon is beautiful, isn't it, with three heart emojis. But I didn't see the text yesterday and slept. I saw it this morning and replied that I had no idea how the moon looked yesterday. She was so disappointed and confessed directly that it meant I love you in Japanese." He laughed. "I said, oh, thanks for loving me, but sorry for not being able to love you back. I am not interested in love."

I blinked.

The moon is beautiful, isn't it, meant I love you?

That was new information for me.

I thanked myself for not saying anything about the moon to Diya, the last night when we were watching the movie.

What if I said to her, the moon is beautiful isn't it?

Ayyo! She would have thrown slippers on me.

Diya laughed, "Anyway, she is cute."

Vijay rolled his eyes, leaning front, parting a piece of idly. "Maybe. But not more than my future wife. She might not have a face or a character till now. Still, she is the only cutest for me. Lifelong! No matter how she is going to look, no matter how she is going to behave."

What? Was this called madness?

I was definitely an odd one out there!

And, Vijay's dialogue was probably because of the love movies he watched with Diya.

While Diya laughed, Krishna sir chuckled as if he witnessed his own younger self in Vijay, Payal mam hit his head. "You moron! Even your papa (dad) was not this much fast. Remember you are just 15."

Vijay made a face, biting his tongue. "Just for fun, ma. Don't you know I am completely concentrating in my studies?"

"Okay Okay." Payal mam nodded her head, smiling. "But it's very common to receive proposals or to feel love in this age. But, it may be infatuation, too. If you ever feel any attraction or love towards any girls or any strange emotions towards any girl, tell us. We will help you to analyse whether it is love or infatuation. Okay?" She said softly.

Both Krishna sir and I smiled warmly. The world needed many mothers, no, many parents like his parents.

Vijay shook his head, munching the idly. "Tell me now itself, Maa. How to find the difference between love and attraction?"

Diya interrupted curiously, raising her hand like a first bench student. "Maa, let me say."

Why was she so cute?

Vijay laughed. "Yes. Let Akka say. She is curious to explain to me what love is from yesterday."

Diya grinned and sat straight as if she was going to give an international speech, her forearms on the table. "Shonu, attraction is temporary. It happens mostly with reasons. The reason may be physical appearance or their character or their skills, etc.., But it will fade away, if you don't see the same qualities in them anymore or it will fade away with time. For example, if you are attracted to a person because she is beautiful, then it will fade away if you see any other girl who is more beautiful than the previous. But love is not like that. Love is everlasting. It doesn't happen for reasons. It's a soul to soul connection. If you love someone, you will accept them as they are. You will not expect anything from them. Their happiness will be your happiness. You will do anything for their happiness. Even if they want to leave you, you will happily let them leave you and you will cherish their memories. Love will not fade away with time, rather it will increase, even if you are far away from her. So, if you feel any attraction towards any girls, then give it some time. At least six months! Don't rush anything. Take your own time, know well about her, and analyse yourself whether you fall in the category of everlasting love or a fading infatuation. If you still can't analyse your feelings, then come to me. The great Diya will help you." Little and great Diya finished her long lecture. 

The topic of love was not my cup of tea. At the same time, I couldn't help, but wonder how they were talking this much openly to their parents. No fear, no hesitation, only a casual banter over a breakfast. 

And, their parents....they were not furious. They were not dismissive. They actually listened and were ready to guide any time.

It felt too unreal. But it was very much needed.

Their parents were neither someone who would create a battle over children's emotions nor someone who would arrange their children's marriage just because they said the word love. I adored them. My respect for them was peaking whenever I spent time with them.

"Super, Kuttima." Her dad appreciated her, his face gleaming in pride, interrupting my thoughts. "You actually explained it too well for your age." 

Vijay teased, "Appa, don't appreciate her. If she is explaining this much about love, she must be loving someone. Ask her about it." Vijay giggled. 

I shifted my eyes to Diya in a trice, my heart thundering out of nowhere.

Was she in love?

Even if it is yes, why did my chest do unusual things, thinking about it?

Diya frowned. "Hey idiot, I am not in love. Knowing what love is doesn't mean you should be in love."

My racing heart returned to normal, hearing her words as if her words pressed a reset button inside me.

I shook my head, exhaling a breath which I didn't even know I was holding. 

"Anna, what happened?" Vijay pulled me out of my trance.

I blinked, raising my eyes to him, "Nothing."

"Hmm. Have your food. You are still sitting with one piece of idly," he said.

I nodded, forcing myself to concentrate on my food, still a part of me wondering about my bizarre emotions for the first time in my life.

Their dad rose to his feet to go and wash his hands. Their mom followed him to the sink.

Diya and Vijay leaned towards each other as Vijay whispered something to Diya teasingly, their eyes following their parents. 

She smiled and whispered something to Vijay. Vijay whispered something with chuckles. 

Their smiles and chuckles expressed that they were definitely admiring yet playfully teasing their parents' love for each other.

Whenever I witnessed the children who had good parents, I would feel jealous or have heartache. It would remind me of whatever I lacked in my life. But Diya's parents were not just good, they were the best. But ironically, I didn't feel either jealous or a heartache at that moment. It didn't remind me of what I lacked. Instead, a smile appeared on my face, my heart spreading a wave of peace over my entire being, filling the empty corners of mine as I watched Diya's smiles and chuckles while teasing her parents.

Why?

Why didn't Diya's smile and happiness remind me of what I lacked? Why did her joy of having the best parents fill the corners of my emptiness with a strange peace rather than leaving it ached?

As a chain of questions clung to my mind, suddenly Diya's words flashed my mind. "If it is love, their happiness will be your happiness."

Ayyo!

Did I fall in love with Diya? Was that why I felt her happiness as my happiness instead of being jealous?

My thoughts made me choke on the idly I was eating, my heartbeats racing in panic.

"What happened?" Diya stood up immediately, rushing towards me, and patted my head gently. "Shonu, take the water."

The way she cared for me raised my panic even more. I was not ready to even look at her.

I shook my head, lowering my head, and pushed her hand away, my body moving sideways. "I....." I coughed, my throat burning, my eyes forming tears. "I....." I coughed. "I am alright. Don't touch me." I coughed.

But she didn't listen.

She gripped my head forcefully and patted my back gently. "Oh god! Shonu, bring the water soon. It's dangerous if the food gets stuck in the throat."

Vijay rushed to me with a glass of water. I grabbed it and gulped it as soon as possible so that Diya would step away.

The cough stopped as I kept the glass back on the table. Diya stepped away.

I rubbed my chest, breathing deep through my mouth, my mind racing with thoughts, "No. It cannot be love. It should not be love. It should never be love." My eyes landed on Vijay. "I am happy about Vijay, too, for having the best parents. It may be because they have a place in my heart. Like friends. Nothing more."

As I repeated those words in my mind like a mantra, my erratic thumping slowed, my breaths settling back to normal. 

"What happened? Are you alright?" Diya asked.

I looked up at her, still rubbing my chest. 

Her ethereal face, her innocent big doe eyes, her care, everything were too much to handle, yet everything reminded me of an undeniable truth.

The truth, she was a little angel!

The truth, I was an old devil!

My own words to my dad and step mom flashed in my mind. "The beauty and the beast would be good for fantasy stories only. But in reality, an angel wouldn't be a good match for a devil. An angel will never be inside hell. An angel doesn't deserve hell, either."

I smiled warmly at Diya, the thoughts about the word 'love' completely fading away, convincing myself that she just had a place in my heart as a friend. "Yes. I am alright. Thank you," I said.

She nodded, settling back to have her breakfast. "Okay. Vijay will be studying till afternoon. I am also going to read a fictional book. Will you, too, read a book till afternoon? Then let's play with Vijay. Otherwise, you will feel bored to be alone till the afternoon."

Was 26 an age to play? I didn't know.

But I nodded. "Hmm. But I don't think I can understand a book in English. I....I just studied till tenth grade. That too, I failed in my board exams." I forced a smile. "Though I can understand some english words because of my real life experience, books may be too much. I will just try to read. If you ask me questions about it, I may not answer."

Vijay laughed. "Anna, did you take akka's words this much seriously? She will not ask questions and all from fiction. She just joked."

"Oh." I made a face. "Then I will try to read."

Diya looked at me blankly for a moment, her lips slowly curving up to a warm smile, her smile spreading to her eyes. "You don't need to struggle. I will order some Tamil version books for you. As of now, let's sit in the garden. I will read and explain every sentence to you. Slowly, you can learn English, too, through dictionaries. I will also teach you."

The way she smiled at me warmly as if looking at a child, the way she was ready to explain every sentence to me, without an ounce of mockery, either about my failure in studies or about my lack of English knowledge, did something strange to my heart again.

People either pitied me or looked down on me when they heard about my education. Some tried to encourage me with meaningless words, saying education wasn't everything, while others dismissed me like I wasn't worth anything.

But Diya was different.

She didn't pity me. She didn't mock me. She didn't try to force confidence into me with meaningless words.

She just accepted me as I was and she came down to me to explain every sentence. As if I was a child and she was a parent or a teacher.

I could even fight against a million wars that were thrown into my life, but I couldn't handle the goodness from a little angel. 

I gulped the lump in my throat. "Di...Diya, you don't have to do all this for me."

She shrugged. "Yes. I don't have to. But I choose to."

I wanted to ask why, but I didn't. I felt a little discomfort, thinking, what if her answer was like, she chose to do everything as a future psychiatrist to help me with withdrawal symptoms? I didn't want that kind of answer from her anymore. 

I liked to have her in my memories as a little angel rather than a future psychiatrist or a CEO, and nodded my head. "Okay,"

She smiled in response, parting a piece of idly.

I resumed having my food.

We had food in silence, and soon we were under the ashoka tree in the garden. The soft rustling of leaves, the musical chirps of birds, the mild scent of the ashoka flowers, and the warmth of the morning sun that peeked through the canopy of the tree, wrapped us in a comforting embrace.

Diya sat comfortably, folding her legs and opened the book titled, 'The perfect soul'. "I already read about 50 pages. But I am going to read it for you again," she said.

I nodded with a warm smile, leaning back on the trunk of the tree, bending my legs, wrapping my arms around my legs, letting her voice only become the sound in the world.

She read every sentence in English and explained to me in Tamil. The book was mostly about spirituality, about God in the beginning. It was something I disbelieved. But I listened. Just because it was her who explained.

As every word of her reached my brain about God, I found myself, not growing closer towards God, but towards Diya. 

'God provides our needs, not because we ask for it, not because we deserve it, but because God is love. Love always provides.' 

It was a quote from the book she explained.

But those words didn't make any sense to me. God had never been present in my life. Even if He existed, He didn't care for me. He chose fire as His pen to write my life, burned the pages of my life, leaving only ashes for me to gather.

But Diya was the one who showed care for me from our first meeting. She was the one who wished to give her parents to me, too. She was the one who stayed even after knowing my negatives well. She was the one who wanted to take me out of my addictions. She was the one who wanted to rewrite my life with stars, turning those ashes into stardusts.

If God existed, it was Diya for me.

'Diya provides my needs, not because I asked for it, not because I deserved it, but because Diya is love. Love always provides.'

This sentence was the truth which made sense to me.

The time slipped by with these thoughts of mine.

She explained every scene from the book which portrayed the female lead as a devotee of God. 

As I listened to every quote by the female lead about God and devotion, I didn't connect those quotes to God. I connected them to Diya. 

With every sentence the female lead grew devoted to God, I was growing devoted to Diya.

But I didn't realise it then. 

I thought my emotions for her were out of my respect and friendship.

But I didn't know I was falling. For her. In love. Heartfully! Devotedly!

After a long time of my persistent emotions, Diya closed the book and smiled at me. "It's time for lunch. Shall we go? Let's read the remaining next week."

I nodded.

She raised to her feet, asking, "Have you liked the story till now?"

I stood up. "I don't know, Diya."

She sighed, heading towards home. "What does it mean?"

"I meant what I said,"

She knit her eyebrows. "Can you elaborate?"

I sighed. "I don't know, Diya. But I listened as you explained."

"Don't you have faith in God?" She asked, hugging the book to her chest.

"No," I said. I wanted to say I see God in you. But I thought it would be like buttering her up and kept quiet.

She took a deep breath. "Okay,"

We entered the home by now. 

After a moment of usual chatter with Vijay and Payal mam, we had lunch and headed to the garden to play cricket.

The game began with a playful competitiveness. In the first round, I stood for batting, Vijay for bowling and Diya for wicket keeping.

As Vijay bowled the first ball, I hit it with all my strength, making the ball fly in the air and to cross the compound wall.

Vijay sighed and ran to take the ball.

Diya kept her hands on her head as if she was attacked with a tragedy in life. "Mr. Music, if the ball was lost, you only should buy us a new ball," she said like a child.

Mr. Music!

The nickname which I hated in the beginning days. But now, my heart fluttered with a new energy and pride as if I got the best nickname from the best person in the world.

I chuckled. "My pleasure, Miss. Little Angel." I bit my tongue, turning my face away, squinting one of my eyes, running my fingers through my hair.

Would she scold me for calling her little angel?

As expected, she gasped. "Little Angel?"

I turned to her. "Hmm, you gave me a nickname Mr. Music. So....." I paused and added playfully. "I always return what I get, multiple times higher."

She narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest. "So, you are going to give me multiple nicknames?"

Wow! I didn't think of it. But she made me think of it. 

I grinned. "Yes."

She rolled her eyes. "May I know what are all the other nicknames you have for me?"

"Hmm...." I hummed, thinking for a moment. "Little Diya, Little Angel, Roshni. If I get more nicknames in future, I will tell you,"

She narrowed her eyes. "Reason for these nicknames?"

I shrugged. "You are little only for me, right? So, little Diya. Little angel is because of your goodness. Roshni is because...." I paused and took a deep breath. "Actually, I don't like the way you attempted to suicide. Though I understand your emotions, though I understand sometimes we let our emotions take over us, I don't want you to be like a Diya (lamp) that flickers weakly in front of a storm. I want you to be the Roshni (light) that stands everlasting in a way no one can destroy it. I hope you will evolve that strong. After all, you are the only angelic person I saw on this earth. You deserve to live long." I forced a smile. "Seeing you in the ICU was the worst moment of my life. I will not say I am a gentleman. I am a filth only. I have made a lot of mess in my life. But I never felt guilty for anything. But I was filled with guilt at that moment when I saw you in the hospital. Truly, if something happened to you, I don't know where my guilt would have led me."

She fell silent for a moment, her gaze on my eyes, her expression unreadable.

"Diya..." I called, as she stood like a statue, looking at my eyes as if she was reading my eyes.

She blinked, a smile forming in her lips as she stepped closer to me. 

I reciprocated her smile, looking at her puzzled.

She stood just a step away from me and extended her right hand which was covered with gloves, her eyes locked into mine. "Friends?" She asked.

What?

Did I hear that right?

I widened my eyes with a mix of disbelief and excitement. "Does it mean you forgave me?" I exclaimed, my heart fluttering with the thought of getting her friendship.

"Yes." She smiled, still her hand stretched. "You are not the wrong person. You just went on the wrong path. And, I feel you will return to the right path soon."

I froze without knowing how to react for her hopeful words.

She tilted her head, smiling cutely. "Mr. Music, little Diya's hands are paining. Give me a handshake soon."

I blinked, a smile appearing on my face and reciprocated her handshake. "Friends."

She smiled, leaving my hand. "And, yes. I will be like Roshni."

I nodded my head, beaming.

Vijay came back by now. 

Diya rolled her shoulders, rubbing her palms and bent down near the stumps. 

I positioned myself to bat. Vijay bowled.

I hit the ball again, with more strength, showing all my excitement of becoming a friend to Diya.

The ball flew in the air and hit the glass window of my room on the first floor, breaking it into pieces.

Ayyo!

I was doomed.

While Diya and Vijay, placed their hands on their heads, Payal mam rushed out of the home, yelling, "Which moron broke the glass?"

I swallowed hard, rubbing my chest.

Diya laughed, pointing her fingers to me. "This moron, maa."

Vijay bit his lips, controlling his laughter.

I made a face. "S...Sorry, mam. I...I will clean it and pay for it."

"No." Payal mam ordered, her eyes moving between all three of us. "I will take care of the window. All three of you hold your ears and do uthak baithak. Fifty times."

What?

What did it mean?

I glanced at Diya. She held her ears and gestured like doing squats.

Ayyo!

It was the punishment I got in school a lot of times.

Did I need to do it again like a child?

What a critical situation for the 26 year old me?

I sighed, placing the bat on the grass, and held my ears.

Vijay too followed me.

Payal mam stared at all three of us, crossing her arms.

Diya counted as we lowered our body, holding our ears. "One. Two. Three...."

As Diya counted twenty five, Payal mam showed her palm and stopped us, her lips curving up. "Continue to play now. If you break something again, then I will tell you to do 200 uthak baithak."

Vijay giggled. "Mrs. Payal Krishna, grumpy face will not suit you. We know you will not make us do 200 uthak baithak even if we break all the windows. Just smile and go. And, bring us samosa. We will be tired of playing you know. We need samosa and coffee at sharp 5." He stretched his body playfully, pressing his upper arms with his other hand.

Payal mam frowned, walking towards me, taking the bat from the ground, and gripped Vijay's hand. "Ordering me?" She beat his leg with the bat gently. "You should be thankful for me for not making you cook samosas for yourself. Instead, you should not order me. Got it?" She beat him again. 

"Oh god! Police....Save me from my mom." He laughed, jumping away.

Diya and I looked at each other, biting our lips, controlling our laughter.

Payal mam handed the bat to me and faked a frown. "What else do you want? Samosa, coffee and??"

"That's all, my sweet maa." Vijay smiled and pinched her cheeks.

"Moron." She faked a glare at him, and then turned to me and Diya. "Do you both want anything special other than samosa?"

"No, Ma..." I was about to utter maa involuntarily, but I gulped my words and stopped myself before uttering it. 

"No, mam," I said with a forced smile.

Diya, too, shook her head indicating no.

She nodded and headed inside the home. 

My eyes followed her. I couldn't call her maa at that moment because of my own fear of getting attached with her. But, if there was any more birth for me, I wished to be born as her child. I wished to experience how it would feel like to have lovely parents, at least in my next birth, if any.

"Anna, get into your position." Vijay interrupted my thoughts, picking an alternative ball from his kit.

I blinked, pulling myself away from my thoughts and positioned myself to bat.

We played, laughing and teasing as the sun began to move towards the west.

As time passed, I remembered the way Diya jumped, saying, "I am the winner, I am the winner," when I entered the gate to inquire about the to-let board. I realised Diya had a wish to win all the games.

How would I continue to bat, even after realising she would be happy to win?

I got bowled in her bowling deliberately. 

As expected, she jumped, clapping her hands, exclaiming, "Yay...I made it. You are out."

That winning smile. That excitement of hers. That was all I needed.

I passed the bat to Vijay, smiling at Diya warmly, feeling as if I won an international game.

Vijay continued to bat and I positioned myself as a wicket keeper.

The game stretched on till our dinner, weaving every moment of us into beautiful memories.

As the stars and moon shone in the sky, we had dinner in the garden and walked back to our respective rooms to sleep.

As I reached my room, I settled myself on the bed, my eyes on the rotating ceiling fan, my mind flashing every moment from the morning, my lips curved up to a permanent smile.

It was an unusual yet beautiful sunday for me. I hadn't taken alcohol. I hadn't experienced the withdrawal symptoms even for a second. I hadn't watched porn movies. I hadn't thought of masturbation. I hadn't thought of sex workers. Instead, I enjoyed delicious home made foods, listened to a devotional fiction, played like a child, laughing, panting and sweating, and became a friend to Diya. 

I felt I lived the life of the innocent Arun whom I had lost somewhere in the storm. I was happy to find the lost me again.

The knocks on the door, pulled me out of my thoughts.

I turned my eyes to the door, wondering who it was and said, sitting up, "Come in. The door is not locked."

The door creaked open and Diya entered, her hands holding a notebook.

"Diya..." I smiled. "Anything important?"

"Yes." She smiled, standing near my cot and passed the notebook to me. "I came here to give you this notebook and pen. Before you sleep every night, write about whatever you experienced that day and your feelings about your experiences in this notebook. When we have no one to share our feelings with, there is always a pen and paper. Replace alcohol with this pen and paper. Just write whatever you feel. If it is a bad day, writing about it will be a stress reliever. If it is a good day, writing about it will increase your happiness. It will help you to discover yourself."

I got it in my hands with a nod, though I didn't even know what to write.

She smiled. "Okay, good night. Let's meet on the terrace by morning 6 to exercise."

I nodded, reflecting her smile. "Good night."

She stepped away.

I wanted to talk a lot to her. I had a lot to say and a few to ask. But I couldn't utter anything. To the minimum, I wanted to ask only one question.

Gathering all my courage, I called, "Diya."

She turned back.

"That..." I forced a smile. "Don't mistake me. You will be talking to me as a friend lifelong na? This will not break once I am out of my withdrawal symptoms na?"

She fell silent for a moment, her eyes softening. "I accepted you as a friend when you are still in the addiction zone itself. If you really come out of your addictions and lead a dignified life, I will be your best friend. Forever! I promise this. My promises are guarantees. You don't need to doubt."

That was more than enough for me.

I nodded my head. "I, too, promise I will not drink again. Whatever withdrawal symptoms I get."

"Hopefully." She smiled and stepped out of the room, closing the door.

I glanced at the hard cover, spiral bound notebook, which had an abstract painting in the cover. I didn't know what to write, but I wanted to write.

I opened the notebook, picked the pen, folding my legs, and thought of everything that happened that day. 

I wrote, 

எங்கோ இருளில் இழந்த என்னை
உன்னால் இன்று மீண்டும் கண்டேன். 

(It's because of you, Today I have seen the innocent myself whom I lost somewhere in darkness long before.) 

தனிமை என்னும் உப்பு காற்றால்
அரித்து போன பாறையாய் இருந்த என்னை, எல்லோரும் அலட்சிய பொருளாய் மட்டுமே பார்க்கும்போது
நீ மட்டும் ஏனோ என்னை அழகு சிலையாக்க முயல்கிறாய்.

(I was being like a corroded rock which was eroded by the salty wind of loneliness. When everyone sees me as an unwanted object, you are only trying to change me into a beautiful statue. I don't know why) 

பாறை சிலையாகும் போது உளியின் வலி தாங்கும் என்பார்கள். 
ஆனால் எனக்கு மட்டும் ஏனோ வலிக்கவேயில்லை, சுகமாய் இருக்கிறது. 

(They say, rocks undergo the pain of a chisel when carved into a statue. But I don't know why, I don't feel any pain instead I feel happy.) 

நான் அழகு சிலையாவேனா 
இல்லை பாதியில் உடைந்து போவனா என எனக்கே தெரியவில்லை. 
ஆனாலும் நீ உன் முயற்சியில் வெற்றிபெற வேண்டும் என்றே விரும்புகிறேன் என் தோழி குட்டி தியா. 

(I don't know whether I am going to emerge as a beautiful statue or I am going to crack in the process. But I wish for your success in your effort in changing me, my friend little Diya.) 

I wrote with a smile on my face and closed the notebook. At first, I thought of not drinking for the sake of Diya's family. But now, I wished to retain the innocent Arun whom I found after years. To make Diya succeed in her efforts. To find my happiness in her success and smile. But was that easy?

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With Love,

Nilah R.

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