Road to revenge

Aashia loved her sister but more than that, she hated how talented and beautiful she was. As she looked on from the yard towards open window on the first floor where Basha sat, deeply analysing a stack of papers in her hands. She wondered if she would be able to do half of what her sister has done within next four years. For then, the blue rubber gloves in her hands were covered in dirt as they held a sapling ready to be placed into the pit.

“What’s the worry?” Despite not caring what Basha was up to, Aashia wished to be included in her world. Or, more like to remind her sister that she too exists around her even though she barely sees her.

“What?” Basha leaned towards the window.

“You look worried.”

“Work stuff” is all Basha said before putting her nose back to where it was. Aashia doesn’t remember being close to her sister or talking about thing that her friends from school said they shared with their sisters. It always bothered her, until it did not and then, she was happy they weren’t close. Aashia preferred it that way. But sometimes, there was sinking feeling when she wished, Basha being four years older to her, did not pretend to be twenty years far.

“Take a bath, I’ll cook something for you.” An hour later, when Aashia was ready to go inside after final satisfying look at the front yard, she scoffed to the words. Cooking doesn’t come close to what she has just done. Basha must have analysed the look on her face, which wasn’t very difficult considering there’s been multiple occasions when she was told, her face tells the story going on in her head. “I’ll clean rest of that later.” She called as her voice faded out of earshot. Aashia did not feel any better. If there was something she learned after her parents’ dead when she was just out of her teenage years, it was, Basha was the only one who would save her and also, make her want to die. But she was her only family and behind her coldness, she cared a lot. Aashia knew that so she never moved out of their family home, even after earning the job as piano teacher at a fancy class school.

“Excuse me!” A polite male voice shifted her gaze from the handiwork in the garden to the front gate where actually a young man, possibly in his late twenties, stood with a wide smile. “Does this house belong to Harsh Raj?”

“There’s a name plate outside. Does it read Raj?” He was confused at her snipy behaviour. Smile faded off his face and Aashia felt bad but the train had left the station.

“No, it says Parveen Vohra and Sara Vohra. Are you Parveen or Sara?” He beamed.

“Mr. Raj live two houses to right. This way.”

“Thanks. And in all good intention, I know which is right side. I just want to you know, that I know, you know?”

“Sorry. I didn’t think you were dumb anyway. It just a habit to talk with my hands as well.” Despite the annoyance Aashia felt at the stranger’s arrival, she mentally described him charming and genuinely nice or, a very good actor.

“I think I just met the new tenant of Harsh uncle. He had a big backpack.” Aashia informed as she made her way across the hall, towards the staircase to the floor above.

“Simi was saying he is annoying. Was he?” Aashia stopped midway.

“Annoying as what?”

“Talk too much, smile too much. Real happy person.” Aashia nodded her head knowingly, “Oh yeah, that he is.” An hour or so later on the sun guarded Sunday afternoon, just as Aashia was putting away the dishwashing gloves away, their neighbour Simi abbreviated from Simran came by. Simran was the daughter and only family member of Mr. Harsh Raj. She was exactly the age of Basha and ran a stationary store just at the end of the street, along the main road. “Can I stay here for next few decades?”

“Tenant troubles?”

“How do you know?”

“He asked me the address.”

“Abhinav. I showed him his room and he won’t leave our kitchen and, papa seems to really like him lingering around while he cooks, for some reason. He talks a lot. We get it you came to Ludhiana from Mumbai. You have climbed mountains. And that ‘any’ is an exaggeration I’m telling you.”

“Why is he here anyway?”

“He is writing a book about all his experiences. He said he is a nice person and that’s exactly why I don’t trust him.” Simi walked over to the couch in the middle of the hall and slumped down on it before reaching for remote to turn on the television. “He’s always happy, it’s kind of suspicious.”

“Maybe he is a genuinely nice person. Who knows.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Or just mind your own business.” Simran hopped off the couch and ran towards the door. “I’ll keep an eye on him.” She said one last time before exiting. At night, while sitting in her bedroom, she suddenly realised May Sunday evenings weren’t as stressful anymore as they were when she was herself a student but she could feel the anxiety of going back to school for other students. She was excited to go back, as with the summer vacations approaching, there was a new opportunity for her. And with every passing day, it was coming close. She had begged a non-permanent job of pianist at an art theatre in the town and for the first time in a long while, she had her body warmed up with adrenaline.

“It’s my first day. I need to be prepared.” Aashia hissed at Basha as they made their way to Simran’s stationary store at six in the morning. “You are just nervous.” Basha hissed back as the joggers passed by. The shop routinely opened at nine so it was sealed shut. They waited outside for a few minutes before Simran walked up the steps and unlocked the shutter.

“I don’t appreciate being woken up earlier than I’m used to.” She said as they all made their way inside the store. “You have a perfect job? You even get summer vacations just li8ke when we were children and you want to start a second job.”

“Music teachers doesn’t get paid as much to enjoy summer vacations however huge the   school is. Who pays attention in compulsory music classes in school anyway? I never did.”

“You are a weirdo. Grab anything you want and don’t bother to pay me now, I can’t count half asleep.” Aashia was aware how grotesque she looked in a dress suit on her first day of theatre but it was the only way she felt confident enough to step out after rummaging through her wardrobe for twenty-five minutes. At twenty-five, she wasn’t as obsessed with her physical presentations as women her age were mal-portrayed for. She did not care her long wavy her went all direction as she put on her brown leather hat on and walked out the door at sharp fifteen minutes to nine. In accordance with the season, Sun was at its blazing height already and she immediately started to sweat through her blazer pits, but she denied to slow down her scooter before it reached the theatre arena parking lot.

‘Marva Sage theatre’ in big bold letter on a giant board welcomed her to a group of more than twenty-thirty people artistically portraying a form of renaissance painting. For Aashia, it did. She was Fascinated as well as intimidated. On the stage in front a man, spoke with all the air in his lungs, “Why must I wake, if only to lay back on bed and snuggle with the pillows? This can’t be why I was birthed.” Aashia walked towards the bench with a middle-aged woman with her greying hair tied into a bun. She was scribbling something on a sheet in front of her, accompanied by another guy with big framed spectacles and microphone. “Excuse me?” The lady turned and her face immediately turned to a pleasant smile.

“Aashia Vohra? Welcome to your first day.”

“Thank you, Shreya.” She fumbled nervously before saying, “I don’t exactly know where to start from.”

“Don’t worry about it. Come, let me introduce you to everyone. You already know Jag.” Aashia nodded a quick hello to the guy in spectacles. Then Shreya took the microphone out of his hand and loudly introduced her to all twenty-thirty people present there and Aashia had never been more uncomfortable in her own skin but she appreciated the gesture. When everyone was back to their work and Jag guided her to the space to set up her piano, she finally texted Basha.

‘Have fun’ was what came back. She planned on having fun for the past few weeks but as soon as the environment hit, she realised she was not among people like her still. These people were nice, chill and knew when to talk and when to not. And she was again, out of place. Thankfully, the rush of rehearsals occupied her brain for next five hours and amidst of all the doubts and insecurities, she enjoyed the time among them, even became friends with the drummer and go-to singer of the group.

Back home, she found Basha’s partner for five years, Milan in the kitchen, stirring something in the pan. “I could smell it from our yard. What is it?”

“It’s a surprise. be ready for early dinner.” Milan said excitedly and turned his focus back to the pan and everything in front of him. Aashia went up to her room and quickly changed to the panda pyjamas. She looked out of the window and noticed Simi’s new tenant walking by with several grocery bags that almost shielded his face and just then, he tripped over thin air and all the bags, along with him, went flying a few feet ahead. Aashia almost felt bad for him as he hurriedly accumulated the stuff. His head straightened up and eyes caught hers. She thought of shifting behind the curtains but it was too late. He held his hand up in a wave and she waved back with a pressed smile before ducking out of the view. Aashia Vohra wasn’t what most people would call a sociable human. She won’t call herself one but once a while she’d get this occasional burst of energy where she’d dream of being and enjoying the close proximity of others more than usual but that energy goes away as fast as it arrives like a primary job worker bank balance. Living with this similar process of feelings for so long, she had accepted there was a life out there she so much wished to live but could not touch it however hard she tried. There were faces that could have been her friends, or something different but they were just faces in the crowd that will forever stay that way. Maybe in other life, she had learned to love more than fear it. She wondered.

“Of course, if I knew he had an escape plan before we could get him arrested, I’d have been more careful. Why do these politicians love assholery so much?”

“That’s also the reason you have a job. You thrive on angering them, don’t you?” Milan and Basha were deep indulged into a conversation while Aashia just sat alongside them on the dining table and munched on some of the best garlic bread and homemade sauce she had ever had. So, she didn’t mind the tense to and fro at all. “And I love you for it by the way. If you ever doubt my support.”

“I know and also, I would very much like to write about beauty of mountains and two ugly birds on branch. I don’t love this job, I enjoy what it stands for.” Basha’s head suddenly snapped to Aashia and lips turned up in a wide smile, “I almost forgot. How was your first day at new job? Was it any better than old one?”

“A lot better actually. I love children and teaching them but this one was entirely different. I enjoyed it. People were nice.”

“Great.” And that was all there of the conversation for the day between them. “I might be out of town for a few days next week. I’m not sure yet but no commitment.”

“Oh. I planned a three days cinema for us. A surprise television show from 90s. Anyway, I’ll push it for another week.” Milan shrugged nonchalantly and went back to his food and so did Basha but Aashia felt something was left unfinished. She had nothing to add to the conversation but something must be said, if only to decrease the density of air inside her chest.

“It’s not going to pay me much so I will keep the school job.”

“That’s good idea. I didn’t want to say anything in case you had different plan but that’s smart.”

After a few days of working at theatre, Aashia started to feel alive again. The will to live that had almost faded off her eyes were somehow smiling again. Maybe, she realised, joy does have a way of returning.

“You look happy.” Basha complimented her one day when they were sitting outside, sun shining brightly on the lush garden grass.

“Yes. I like my new job. People like me, I guess.”

“You know if you don’t like being a teacher, you can quit. I just said that the other day so you can feel comfortable being financial independent. But we have a home and we have our parents’ saving.”

“I like being a teacher, I just don’t like a little of that environment.”

“What I mean is, you don’t have to do that job being miserable.”

“I’ll deal with it. It’s all good. How’s you research going?”

“Almost done with it. Once this article comes out, I can finally start working on his sister’s deeds along with every relative I can find. They are not getting away with all this. People have suffered enough because of their greed and bigotry.”

“Good.”

“What’s wrong with you? Are you upset?” Aashia was surprised Basha asked her this. This was her normal tone of conversation for past three or five years but she never noticed.

“This is how I have been for a while. Why are you asking me this?”

“You never tell me what going on with you. Your brain is a mystery to me.” This snapped something inside Aashia. She is enraged how easily Basha blamed her for the distance between the two.

“You don’t get to say that after you basically cut me off after our parents’ death. You’ve done a lot for me Basha, even in despair and that’s why I feel guilty saying it but I lost my sister when I lost my parents. I don’t want to blame you for grieving but maybe I am grieving too and I can’t help but be enraged at you for abandoning me and not even trying. I thought we’d be there for each other. I started to make all these script in my head, thinking of what I’d say to make you feel better, to get you out of your shell but you shut me away.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Aashia regretted saying more than she had intended to. There was visible pain on Basha’s face and it reflect on her own.

“I did my best.”

“I know you did. I just wish we were as close as before, that’s all.”

“I was so afraid of feeling unimportant, not being loved and it exhausted me so, in the end I decided there’s one way to make this fear go away and that was, to push everyone away, who wanted to love me. I can’t explain to you but all my relationships were affected adversely.”

“It’s not all on you. I am acting unreasonable, you have been through the same hell. I have been upset for a long time. I don’t know how to get out of this trench.”

“Maybe I noticed if you were upset because I have reasons to be happy now. I am proud of myself today than ever before but it’s not good enough if I let you down. I am going to try and fix this for us.” Basha’s voice cracked and Aashia felt guilty for ever starting this conversation.

“It’s fine. Everything is fine.” It was the worst ending a conversation could possibly be left at but she wanted to get away from there. She loved her sister beyond she could ever express to herself even but there were unsaid emotions stuck in either of them that won’t let them be the same sisters as they were once. Without intending to, many things changed overtime and they kept building around the missed conversations, that neither of them knew how to fill anymore.

Aashia woke up next day, earlier than usual but moon was still groggy and shied partially beneath the clouds. She turned to the nightstand and noted the time that was a little above 04:30 A.M. she remembered expressions on Basha’s face last and wished to see her immediately, just as a minor comfort that everything was good. She looked at her mobile and found a message from basha. ‘Shopping and lunch on me today?’ She immediately answered yes to it with an additional thumbs up. There was a huge smile on her face after that, she knew it was just an excuse for Basha to fill the gaping holes of conversations but it was what she wanted as well.

It was a Sunday morning and as per the routine, she changed to her jogger pants and went for quick few laps around the corner but something about the colony was weird. Too quiet to be precise or maybe it was just her heart pounding extra fast that day. Simi’s stationary shop should have been closed at that time but there was a little glow of light coming out through the shaded glass window to the left, when she was returning back from the run and it looked spooky quiet inside. It was a hard fought urge to not check out what was going on that finally won and Aashia slowly climbed up the front stairs and pushed open the glass door.

“Did I not tell you to lock the door?” A hoarse male voice talked barely trying to hide the anger and frustration.