Nitya

                                    

                                          
It was December, 16 in 2004. Snow quietly fell on the isolated evening of Banikhet. A seventeen-year-old boy sat in his quarter worrying about completing his practical files and what he would do for dinner when there was a knock on the door. Outside stood a girl, fair as milk, in solid white salwar suit, the dupatta wrapped around her head in a hijab.
                          
"Salam Waleikum," she said.
                          
"Namaste.", was Abhay's reflex reply.
                          
"Ammi is calling you." What ammi? And who is she?
                          
"Uh, what? I guess you're at the wrong address. Which number do you want to go to?"
                          
"66." His quarter was 66, so Abhay stood perplexed.
                          
"Come, ammi is calling you.", she started walking. Abhay followed in confusion. Her quarter was just two doors ahead. He had recently come to live with his father in the city so he thought maybe that's why he had never seen her before.
                          
Inside sat a very fat lady who told him that his father asked them to look after him while he was gone for a few days. As he sat eating the food offered to him, the lady said, "Beta, will you show her around?", she gestured at the girl. There's no one to go with her, her father is away on work and I can't walk much." Abhay looked at the girl. She was sixteen and pretty. Oh, what nuisance. "Okay, send her in the morning."
                          
Abhay awoke with a start by the incessant knocking on the door. Half asleep and fully annoyed he opened the door ready to yell at the top of his voice and found Fareeha standing there in a plain blue salwar-suit with a small sling bag hanging from her shoulders.
                          
"Salam Waleikum." It was 7:45 am. Who wakes up this early?!
                          
"Waleikum-a-Salam," he replied this time. She smiled, and said, "Shall we go?"
                          
"What? Oh, no, no. Give me ten minutes. Come sit inside."
                          
Abhay quickly went to wash up. Heating the water would take time so he washed his face with cold water instead. Currents ran up and down his body but he ignored them. He got ready hurriedly and came out. She asked, "Are you going to study? Why are you wearing spectacles?" He snatched them from his face and threw them down on the table. "Let's go."
                          
A pointed staff in hand, gum boots on feet, they headed out in the snowy winter of the hills. They treaded on snow slowly, slipped and held on to each other countless times. Abhay went ahead to ensure that the path was safe and turned to find Fareeha fallen flat on her back, laughing foolishly. He helped her up and wondered what she was so happy about.
                          
"Laugh sometimes.", she told him. He kept walking. But Fareeha went on. She kept speaking and asking all sorts of questions. Eventually, Abhay gave in.
                          
"What does your name mean?", he asked.
                          
"It means happy and joyful."
                          
"And are you always like this? Happy and joyful?" She picked up snow and filled her mouth. "Well, what's there to be sad about?", she said, snow falling from the corners of her mouth.
                          
A smile broke out on Abhay's face. This girl was sincerely asking that question. Does she mean it like a joke? She ought to mean it like a joke.
                          
Meanwhile, his smile echoed in her. "You look good this way."
                          
Abhay got flustered, it was the first time a girl had complimented him but he wouldn't let it show. "Hmm," was his suave comeback.
                          
"So you're from Kashmir?", he asked after an awkward minute.
                          
"Yes, and we're moving back in about a week. We lived here because of abba's work but now we're going back. I really miss Kashmir.", she said, "and you? You're from where?"