TWO

When you truly feel something. Is it really easy to express it in words?

There are, of course, people who have it easy... But is that really the case? Do they have it easy because they’ve accepted the feelings that course through their heart? Or did they just grow tired of hiding… Were they not able to handle the painful burden that their emotions lay on their heart and soul? Was their ease of genuinity and authenticity when it came to their feelings an illusion?

After all, those who smile the most and the people who talk the most shine the brightest.

But, it hides the fact that there was also a time in their lives when they fell. Not like a shooting star or a comet. A shooting star lights up the sky faintly, bringing a sense of contentment to the onlookers. This was not the case, though. We people easily forget how smiles can be the best facade. A perfect one that overshines the shadow in our hearts. An ideal one that has no room for cracks.

When we look at those that fall from grace, from bliss, from joy, from elation, they fall like asteroids; destroying themselves because they have no other choice, trying to change and grow out of it, only to shrink into a shell. And finally falling into the boundless depths, shattered and taking down those around them too as much as they didn’t want to do so.

Because at one point, they too were taken down the same way.

—-

I could still smell the disgusting dirt and sweat on my body as I squirmed on the chilly, hard ground.

I could still feel the pain searing into me, digging its way into my essence and my subconscious, making in my mind, a grating, blood-curdling scream of fear, much louder, much more reverberating than the screams that came out of my hoarse throat. I could hear the echoing laughter of those who towered over me, those who were as just as small, just as young as I was. Their voices boomed and echoed as I tried to breathe… Their faces blurred as I tried to keep myself together. Their words were muffled as I tried to tone down the pain…somehow…

I could feel the ice-cold tears trickle down— a huge lump in my throat formed as even my breath left me for another eternity; as if the pain kept on coming and would never stop until the day I died or the day I forgot.

But this was something I’d never forget.

The crisp nature of the white-tiled floor, now stained by a dried-red. Its smell made me want to vomit as even more blood dripped down into my mouth from the top of my head and the open palm of my left hand. The taste was like salt and metal— possibly due to the iron content in blood, or in other words, haemoglobin. It smelled of it too, a strong pungent smell of rusting iron. It was warm. Perhaps it was an ironic, twisted allegory of the warmth I should’ve experienced at my worst moments but never got. Perhaps it was the amiability and naivete inside me that slowly faded away. I was stupid, too stupid to realise that the world wasn’t all full of smiles and my glasses were rainbow-tinted.

Pathetic.

Do you know, dear friend, every time I saw her… I reminded myself.

She’s probably as bad as the rest… I shouldn’t get too close…

But every time she played that violin… Every time we played together, I was so drawn to her as a person. Her playing revealed more about her to me. It had the confidence of a lioness yet the timidity of a kitten. It had the strength of a rock yet the fragility of glass. It reached out to you, yet pushed you away, leaving you asking for more. Leaving you wanting more. Every day was something I looked forward to. My curiosity led me to the need to unravel new sides of her as an individual.

This was part of my life now. And I couldn’t help myself but enjoy every second, the little boy of the past yelling excitedly, wishing things would stay like this forever

—-

Summer, 2016

I had that nightmare again.

It never left me.

I begged for it to leave but it never did.

Why hadn’t it left?

Why was it so burdening?

So haunting?

So terrifying?

Why can’t I breathe again?

Why can’t I stand without my body shaking?

Why am I here?

What am I doing?

Why do I exist?

Why should I exist?

A tap on my shoulder made me resurface. I was back in reality, back in the Mazda. My eyes unravelled the cityscape of the UAE once again. Abu Dhabi, this was where I lived my whole life. The home I knew so well. The skyscrapers around me felt asphyxiating. The crowd of people swamped me. I couldn’t stand it. I froze every time, wanting to move but unable to even reach out to grab the car door’s handle. I couldn’t sit. I kept fidgeting, looking at the watch on my left hand or playing with the beads in my rakhi.

“You okay?” a voice asked.

I turned to face Dad who looked at me his eyebrows arced in a concerned look. He maintained a neutral expression, which I mistook for anger back then. I was not as bright as he wanted me to be. I wasn’t as good with my hands or technical as he was. My grades weren’t anything worth boasting about. I sometimes questioned if I was a good big brother to Asha, who was two then. I wondered if I were a burden to my parents… After all, I felt like my pathetic self was a burden to me too… It was a time when I desperately wanted to restart… I wanted everyone to forget me and just start fresh. I thought all these things and it messed me up further and further… But…

But in the end, that didn’t matter now, did it? While there are parents who wouldn’t bat an eye, not caring about your needs. The truth is, most parents do love their kids and they’re just bad at expressing it. This was a fact that their kids would learn in the long run, a fact that could be hard to stomach.

“I’m fine…” I responded weakly, readjusting my posture. “Just a bit unwell…”

He placed his palm on my forehead, inching closer to me, my body noticeably shivering from the physical contact and closure. “There seems to be a bit of heat. You sure you don’t want to go back?”

I nodded, “I feel like some fresh air would fix that.”

My dad smiled, “Just take care.” He reached for his pockets and pulled out a white, touchscreen phone— a Samsung Note 4. “Here. Give me a call if you need anything.”

I chuckled, “Wouldn’t it be convenient for you to buy me a phone?”

Dad rolled his eyes, “We’ve been through this. Not until you’re 18.”

I sighed with a defeated smile as I stared at the building before me. “Hey, at least I tried.”

He laughed, “You seem excited to come back here lately. A friend? Girlfriend?” he had a poker face as he uttered that last word. I pinched his hand softly, clearly annoyed. I rolled my eyes.

“As if that’d happen…”

As we waved at each other, my attention then turned back to the two-storey building in front of me. I thought back to those words he said.

A friend? Girlfriend?

I clicked my tongue, “Right… Not gonna happen… Don’t even know what she is really…”

After all, getting close to someone is something I avoided like the plague.

I don’t know anymore when lightning would strike.

And yes, it can strike twice.

—-

I was back in the classroom again. The sounds of the instruments reached my ears once more. Each one of us was in our worlds again and as for me, I sat in my lonesome again. There was a part of me which hoped that she wouldn’t approach me like she did every day. After all, I wasn’t worth all the attention. Plus it could’ve come with a catch. After all, to me in the past, all friendships worked that way. It was more like a give, take and discard. It was as flimsy as a cracker.

The people I grew close with.

The one person I did have in my life, a dear friend…

She and I had to part ways in what felt like an instant. Our paths diverged in the cycle of time.

And after that, I was left alone to face the void again. Every moment felt like a painful eternity…

But after that moment, I had no time to think anymore. Or at least that's what I made myself believe. Because I had something else to do, something I looked forward to.

Canon in D

Another piece that was beloved by all musicians and heard by all. It didn't matter if they didn't have a background in music or not, everyone must've at least heard of this piece by name…and the composer, Johann Pachelbel, was beloved due to this too. A lot of arrangements and covers have been made for this song. It's been performed a lot of times and personally, it feels like a track for intermediate players. It sounds simple, yes… But it, to me, is a beautiful track precisely because of its simplicity. It brings an aura of calm, like walking down a garden of flowers or touring Heaven itself. It consisted of three violins, a cello and a basso continuo which consisted of a continuo group that gave the arrangement the harmony and the basic chord progression. They play the bass line. In this case, the group had a harpsichord. The violins played while being supported by the cello, washing through the notes like the sea hits your bare legs on a sunny day at the beach. The bass line creates the structure, a structure that is maintained till the end. Even the flow seemed to have a system. But no one seemed to make sense of it because it sounded so freeing and to the audience, it looked like the performers could do whatever and it just worked.

And right now, a familiar figure sat next to me. Today, she just wore a plain white tee with black leggings. We've played together, knowingly this time, over the spring and during the summer. And at that time, what seemed to be mid-July, summer break, we practised together a lot. We played the basics together, taking time off after classes, up to an hour more, just for our practices. I borrowed the only Grand Piano in the room, near the entrance to the classroom and was playing the left-handed notes for the song, varying the speed to get the chords in.

She sat on the floor— she seemed to like how the carpets felt— violin kept by her side. Her head leaned back on the base of my chair. She tried playing the song herself and recorded it. On her hand was a Samsung S4 with white-wired earphones plugged into it. One side was hers and the other was mine.

“How about this?”

I felt the cold breeze brush past my air. For some reason, it was like I was braving a storm lately. My chest was heavy, my breathing tensed up, my head hurt, my chest hurt. Why am I hurting? Why am I in pain so much? Why should I be? Why do I let myself be? Am I desensitized to it? Do I yearn for it? How am I taking it? How am I feeling? How did this happen? When? Why?

It doesn’t matter because you deserve it!

“Ravi?” A voice called out. She was inches away from my face. I don’t know what I was feeling. Disgust? Fear? Sorrow? What I did notice was my face curling up into this disturbing expression.

“Are you okay?” Akshara asked. I nodded silently. I’d always hated that question. What was I supposed to say anyway? I couldn’t say anything but I didn’t want to lie to those that cared. So I nodded my head— a vague answer. An unclear answer. A perfect answer.

But she— I didn’t realise— was extremely pushy. She placed a palm on my forehead. I jerked back in shock and that made her withdraw quickly, “I-I’m sorry…”

I messed up! I instantly shook my head, “No, I was only caught off-guard…”

Physical contact always did that. She was not to blame.

She sighed, “Your forehead is warm… You’re sweating. Are you positive we should continue? Call your dad. I could call Mr. Mathews-”

“No!” I shouted. But I almost yelped at the sound of my own defensive voice, looking back at her surprised face, “I mean… you…you don’t need to. I’m fine..Okay?”

She silently stared at me. In all honesty, she was one of the few who insisted on maintaining eye contact with me when we talked aside from my parents, even at this moment, lifting my chin to make me look at her properly. It was kinda reassuring-

No, I shouldn’t get too attached!

I waved away her advances and she only ruffled my hair, possibly out of impulse. Without acknowledging it, she turned to her phone.

“Check this out, will you?”

With a slight nod from me, she played one of the recordings. I listened as I played my section in tandem for her to hear too. But then I gestured for her to pause.

“The C sounded strange… It bit higher than it should be to the point where it could've been an E.”

Her mouth gaped open with interest, “Really? How could you tell? It sounded fine to me…”

I shrugged, “I guess it's that thing… What was it again?”

“Perfect pitch?”

I nodded, “Yeah that… I’m not good with names.”

She laughed, “I only know out of interest.”

I shrugged, “If you say so…”

We listened to the tracks in silence. When we did these things, usually none of us spoke unless we had to. So at the moment, it was just us, the music and the sound and air from the A/C. The sounds of the bustling city did exist in the outside world but that didn't matter.

I felt her shift her posture as she made motions as if simulating a fake violin in the air. Then she stopped to listen again until she moved once more. Her long hair felt soft, tickling my stick-like arm. I ended up smiling unconsciously until she suddenly looked at me with confusion. She pulled her hair to the side as she withdrew her head.

“Is my hair in your way? I'm sorry…”

I laughed, “Nah… I was just thinking about how soft it was.”

Her eyes widened as she looked down in embarrassment, “Thanks…”

I suddenly realized what I just said. Did I leave a bad impression? Does she think I'm a creep? Of course, she does… I am so stupid it's not even funny anymore! As she got up from where she sat, going towards the far end of the room, I felt myself grit my teeth. For some reason, my hands were outstretched. A voice in my head began to scream.

Please… Don’t go! I’m sorry…!

But relief struck me as she returned with a stool. She grit her teeth as she tried to carry it toward me. Who could blame her? For some reason, the chairs and stools were all super heavy. She tilted her head and I made space for it. Slowly placing it next to me, she took a seat.

At this point, the sides of our bodies were close together. For some reason, the warmth I felt from her previously now felt chilly. Was it because it was this close? Was it because I wasn’t used to this?

Was it fear?

“Let’s go at it this way.” She picked the violin up from the floor and turned to me. I felt myself smile outside as I nodded with approval but deep inside the voice screamed one word.

Why?

What did she need? Why was she here? Why was she sitting next to me like this? I’m just a goddamn parasite, a bug, inferior. Why was she associating with an insect? She could’ve made much more friends. She was nice and caring and her playing sounded amazing. Why me? What did she want from me? Why was she tormenting me like this?

Why are we doing this?

“Huh?” she said. She looked at me quizzically. “What kind of question is that?”

I was, of course, startled, “Sorry, was I thinking out loud? Ignore that…!”

She shook her head, “Nah… Let’s settle this.” she sighed.

I looked down at my rakhi in one hand, my watch in the other. My mind was suddenly interested in deciding what it wanted to fiddle with next. But her stern expression brought about a defeated gaze.

“Why are we doing this again?” I asked.

“Huh?” her voice was a bit loud it made me unconsciously flinch. But she must've seen that. Would she think I was weird? But her expression only softened. “Well, we’ve established that you have perfect pitch. Not officially, just experience. We decided to play together since then and we’ve developed together under Mr. Mathews who even gives us alone time like this. It’s been ten months since we started going to class in general and since it’s July now…that marks four months since we’ve started this. So basically-”

“No. Not that!” I retorted, “I mean… Why are we doing this? Sitting together, talking a lot, playing together until the day ends, practising alone together. Why do you associate with me? I’m like…the last person you should come to. There are a lot of other kids who’d love to be your friend so-”

“So you don’t consider us friends? Is that what you’re saying?” I felt my whole body quake. Her voice was calm but for some reason, it felt cold. Her expression was soft but it didn’t feel like it. Was it me thinking too much…? Was it my past doing this to me, now of all times…when I finally had a chance to make a connection?

“No I… I don’t know…”

But I looked at her again and I stopped myself. She had a faraway look in her eyes and her lips quivered. I widened my eyes in realisation. It was not that she was cold… She was scared too… Why was I so stupid? From the way her posture shifted and the way she clenched her fist together. I should’ve realised…

We’re the same…

“Akshara…” I took a deep breath, “Are we friends?”

The girl looked at me with confused eyes. Of course, such a stupid question would be met with this look. But she straightened up. Taking both my hands and asked, “I don’t know… Are we?”

She asked, not if we were friends, not if I hated her, not the nature of our relationship as a whole but just…

Did I consider her a friend? Not if we were friends but if I considered her one.

“Yes, I-I mean… I hope so…” This was honest. I didn’t care if she let me down like the others. I’ll just let her go. But until then… “If you want us to be.”

Akshara smiled warmly, her grip on my hand tightening. “I’m glad…”

“Did you want something from me by being my friend?” I asked, “Because now you can use me…”

The girl scratched her chin, looking up and then looking back at me and then the violin. “Do you know what my favourite piece is?”

I shook my head.

“Nocturne Op. 9, No. 2… By Chopin.” she responded, “I once saw it being performed live. I didn’t know who it was who performed but people loved it. She had a pianist as an accompanist as well… The two played so beautifully on a huuuge stage and a lot of people cheered. They performed so beautifully that I cried saying “I wanna do it too…” I was nine then. I thought… I thought that maybe I could do it too…become great, talented and loved by all… So I practised daily and joined the class to learn. My twin sister Arushi as well as my parents are super supportive too…And…”

Her head went downward as she turned red with embarrassment, fiddling with her fingers like I usually did. I looked at her quizzically waiting for her to continue until she finally took a deep breath.

“Ravi… Can you help me with my dream?”

My eyes widened. No one had asked me for something like this before and that too so carefully. It felt like each word she said was carefully being said. Not in a devious scheming way but in a very considerate way. Had she sensed I was hurt all along?

I smiled endearingly and extended my hand, “Sure! Let’s be amazing musicians together.”

As Akshara took my hand, the warmth and energy returned. It filled me with relief. I felt like, for the first time, everything was going to be okay…

It’s a promise…

And the smile on her face shined as bright as the sun yet as gently as the moon.

It was beautiful.