THE BOY WITH THE DREAM

7

“I am ready!” yelled the voice from inside as the man honked the horn loudly, shouting something in a foreign language which I assumed to be Punjabi; an Indo-Aryan language spoken by many in India and Canada. Dad and I had talked about it many times when I would blast the speaker with a new release, yet I was not a fluent speaker, fortunately the peppy Bollywood song has taught me enough to understand that the frustrated man was yelling at his daughter to hurry up before it gets too late and precisely my assumption was proven correct for soon after; a girl―as sloppily dressed as ever―came rushing out tucking the hem of her dress at its right place, securing it. A lady probably in her mid-forties came running after the girl and handed her a folder muttering something under her breath on which the girl gave her a sheepish look, hopped on the scooter after the man, and bid the lady a goodbye with a flying kiss as she disappeared from my vision.

I watched her giggling at something her father had said as I sat in my car, observing the exchange with a look of mock dismay. I clutched the steering wheel tightly as I watched the lady getting back inside her apartment and locking the door after.

What luck! The last thing I was expecting myself doing in the early morning is to be stalking a timid Asian who had stolen the peace of my mind and…my heart and she did not even know it.

“I am going insane! It isn’t acceptable, Surya. To whom are you kidding?” I muttered under my breath as I leaned back on the seat, resting my head at the support and closing my eyes. 

My phone chimed on the dashboard indicating the arrival of a new message, but the reluctance of my brain overcame the sanity that denied looking in. I did not know what I wanted anymore, on anything I did not know if I indeed wanted anything for that matter. I was confused, upset, and disappointed at the pathetic self I had turned into. Nothing made any sense anymore―one moment I felt like packing my luggage and flying to some isolated island near the Mediterranean where there would be no one, absolutely no one but me, and the very next moment, all that desperation to start a new beginning would fly off the window and pure calmness would take over, challenging my sanity.

What the hell was happening?

I did not know and if I’d be honest, I did not care. I was half expecting the things to eventually turn good for the past one month after I had had ‘the conversation’ with my parents and I had my undivided faith in it. What I feeling was infatuation or so I had concluded, tired of searching a rational answer for my unacceptable and totally absurd behavior. I had not stopped painting Sonia. On anything, the intensity had accelerated with time. 

Gathering the courage; I had requested her to follow on i********: and to my utmost surprise she had accepted it, giving me access to like all her one hundred and ninety-two posts. I had drawn more than three-fourth of her photographs amongst which her picture of her on a beach in a skimpy lemon-yellow bikini was my favorite. Not for, it revealed almost everything, but for the genuine happiness dancing on her face. 

My phone rang loudly, vibrating over the dashboard, compelling me to open my eyes and look at the intruder’s name shimmering over the screen. 

Asshole, the screen read and I heaved the sigh I did not know I was holding. It was Ayaan who did not stop poking me after the conversation we had had. He was nagging me to tell the reason for my inspiration behind painting the Novia Del sueño and obviously, I could not come up with anything. Reluctantly, I picked up the phone and spoke.

“Bloody hell! Where have you disappeared to, lunatic? Twenty-three messages, two dozen missed calls! Are you planning on killing us?” I heard Samuel’s voice buzzing in my ear as he struggled to breathe while yelling profanities at the boys who―I imagined―might be looming at him. “Mittal said you have been visiting the strip club a lot lately. Huh! Having fun without buddies, fucker.”

“Phone was on silent! Did not hear it ringing, sorry man. Anything urgent?” I lied straightening myself on the seat. I check the time and turned the ignition on, looking outside at the tiny apartment for the last time.

“Lair! Lair! Pants on fire. f*****g some hot chick and making up excuses, becoming a bad-ass my goodie-goodie.” Yohaan cooed, making me roll my eyes. These assholes would never change.

“Where are you, Sur? Mr. Rajput has rung me in the morning. You have acting suspiciously from the past three weeks. You alright?” It was Ayaan’s voice that spoke out and the line went deadly silent as the boys waited for my reply.

“Sur? You there?”

“Huh! Yeah, I am fine. I just don’t know, boys. I am confused.” I breathed out frustrated. I could not go on like this anymore and I knew, I needed to speak it out. “I don't know how to explain it to you but I am just feeling this sudden pull towards her whenever I see her. It's magnetic that I cannot avoid it. It’s like I am trying to run but haven’t got the legs to walk. She is always with me everywhere. Ayaan, I just want to see her smiling face again and again. I like to be in her presence and I wanna draw her endlessly. I never get tired of it. It’s killing me. I am going insane, helpless.” I huffed, stopping at the traffic signal.

“Sur you…”

“No just let me speak before it suffocates me. I want to be the reason behind her smile. She never leaves my brain. She is always there, her thoughts, her small gesture everything about her feel special, so special. I always thought that I observe her because she is my competitor but nowadays it's more than that. I don't know what but I am feeling helpless and it's just frustrating me and surprisingly this frustration is making me happy and restless at the same time. I am not falling in love. Am I?” I spoke softly, thankfully the boys could not see me or they would have read the lines of desperation and worries apparent on my face. It was all just so confusing yet beautiful at the same time.

I waited for an answer which never came, seemingly the boys had slipped into deep thoughts. They might be thinking that I was going crazy. Don’t tell me they have called my father to get an appointment already.

“Sur.” I heard Ayaan whispering. He paused making my eyes widened. I have never heard him talk like that. I hesitantly took the turn still focusing on the call.

“Yeah?” I urged him to continue as he had not spoken for a while, neither did the boys made any sound.

“I think…You really like the girl whoever she is and you should accept it instead of denying it.” He spoke politely making my eyes widened as soccer ball again.

LOVE! Am I? Naah, it cannot be love. Fatal attraction it may be but it was not loving. Man, you are taking the wrong train. No one can fall in love so easily. 

“Stop denying, Sur. There isn’t anything wrong with it. We are teenagers, we are boys. We date, hangout, f**k and we break off. It isn’t something to deny the sooner you accept it the better.” It was Tamilian.

“Not now dude, I will deal with it all later.” I shut him off still refusing to accept it. “It is not love. You jerks are crazy.” I huffed, pulling up in parking.

“Yes! Yes! You are, Rajput.” Yohaan yelled in a sing-song voice, making me roll my eyes. The man can be such a baby, I swing.

“Sur is in love. Our nerd is in love. He is in love. GUYS PARTY TIME!” Yohaan chirped, giggling like a girl and I heard shuffling noise in the background. The next minute I heard them chuckle.

“Stop it, you assholes just because I drew her it doesn't mean I am in love with her it’s just a mere attraction. Maybe I like her but love it. Naah!” I replied scurrying through the hallway to the second floor for my first class. I stopped by the locker to steal a glimpse of a certain pink glasses but felt disappointed when I did not find her.

“But-” The boys tried to say, but I cut them off by hanging upon them as I bumped into someone, making their belongings fall on the floor. I heard a feminine yelp followed by a thud sound of someone falling on the floor making my breath hitch in the throat.

Please, don’t let it be her…