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Three days. For three days Sweety’s routine followed the same pattern. She’d get off her bed way too early in the morning from yet another night of restless sleep, push food around her plate at breakfast with a seething Babloo Virji sitting next to her, then hide away in her room for as long as possible trawling the internet for any sign of Kuhu having a digital presence. It was ridiculous really; who romances a girl for almost a week without exchanging phone numbers or at least getting her last name? Sweety rolled her eyes for the millionth time at how careless she had been and refreshed the open facebook window on her computer once more. Last night, she had changed the privacy settings on all her social media platforms to fully public. She wished she had thought of doing it sooner. If she couldn’t find Kuhu, then she’d make it damn easy for Kuhu to find her. That’s if she was even searching, after all, Sweety had stood her up the last morning they were supposed to meet. She dismissed that thought the moment it entered her head; of course Kuhu would look for her.
Her heart swelled as she thought of Kuhu now. That secret smile Sweety had noticed the other girl reserved for her only, the way her eyes seemed to light up whenever Sweety looked in her direction and the way her voice dropped an octave or two lower whenever they had a moment alone together. Sweety laid back on her pillow and closed her eyes, remembering the last night they spent on the rooftop and the kiss Kuhu had pressed against her cheek. She touched the spot lightly as a blush crept up her neck. Her daydreaming didn't last long before reality came crashing down on her again. She still hasn't made any headway with her search for Kuhu and her brother was like a ticking timebomb that could explode at any moment. Maybe this is the way it was meant to be. Being like this was wrong. Having these kinds of thoughts was immoral. That's what Babloo Virji said right? That this was an illness she had to get under control? She had internalised this since that fateful day when she was fourteen and had to witness her brother bullying her only friend for being different. Her mind had been made up from since then that if she couldn't reform herself then she would suffocate her truth and never let it see the light of day. But it all felt so very wrong now. Kuhu had single-handedly opened up that bag of emotions and beliefs she had tied shut so many years ago. She was beginning to question everything again; 'how could simply loving someone ever be wrong' being the foremost question on her mind.
On the fourth day she was awakened a little before sunrise by the familiar chime of a Facebook friend request. She scrambled to find her phone, knocking her water bottle and some books off her night stand in the process, before nervously pressing the home button to awaken the screen. Her eyes watered at the notification: Kuhu M wants to be friends with you on Facebook. With trembling hands, she unlocked the phone and accepted. Hardly a moment later, the phone rang out loudly, penetrating the stillness and startling her. She silenced it and shot a quick message to Kuhu, “Mujhe maaf karo lekin yaha bahut quiet hai. Kya hum text kar sakte hain?” (I'm sorry but here is very quiet. Can we text?)
The ellipsis at the bottom appeared, then disappeared only to reappear again before a message popped up. “Sure. Kya tum theek ho?” (are you okay?)
She smiled, Kuhu was worried about her. The question echoed in her mind again. How could this ever be wrong?
“I’m okay,” she paused in thought before adding, “much better now though.” And hit send. A pulsing heart emoji appeared, followed by, “I miss you. What happened?”
Sweety blushed. Her heart beating much faster than the throbbing emoji on her screen. Kuhu missed her! This girl cared about her and missed her. How did she ever get this lucky? Before getting lost in her daydream again, she focused on Kuhu's question and sighed, “Babloo Virji saw us that night. Woh bahut naraaz tha (he was very angry) and made me pack my things to come home right away.” She typed, saddened by how hastily she was made to leave. She wanted to add that she missed Kuhu too but she blushed even at the thought of it so didn’t bother.
Her phone vibrated. “Oh crap. I'm so sorry. You sure you’re okay? Please let me call you.”
Nonononono, Sweety thought anxiously. If Babloo Virji found out she'd be in so much trouble.
"Nahi Kuhu, I'm sorry but it's too risky. Please, let’s just text.”
“Tumhare paas headphones hai?” (do you have headphones?)
“Haan hai, kyun? (Yes, why?)” Sweety replied, confused, but nevertheless, she retrieved the headphones from under her pillow and untangled it.
“Plug it in.” Kuhu ordered and Sweety’s smile widened at how persistent the girl was. She had been sought after by quite a few young men before, but neither did she ever welcome any of those suitors nor have such a visceral reaction to them like she was having towards Kuhu. She jacked in the headphones just as the first voice note arrived. She quickly locked her door before returning to bed. Her finger hesitated over the play button for a moment, she took a deep breath and then tapped it.
“Hey... good morning. I hope this is okay.” Kuhu’s voice sounded a bit gravelly, as though she had now woken up or was awake but hadn’t actually spoken for a few hours. Sweety loved it. She pulled her blanket over her head and played the message again, grinning widely at the sound of Kuhu’s voice.
“H-h-hi. Good morning ji,” she replied in a hushed tone, pressing the little mic against her lips.
“Ji? I thought we were past those formalities by now?” Kuhu teased.
“Sorry. Habit I guess.” Sweety replied lamely, not sure how to carry the conversation.
Kuhu must have sensed this because the next message that came was a selfie of herself on a balcony with a mug of coffee in the hand not holding her phone. And she was wearing glasses. Sweety dropped her phone. How is it possible for one person to be so beautiful? She thought. Her phone vibrated again and she picked it up from the bed.
“So this is me, having coffee on my balcony. And talking to a pretty girl,” Kuhu flirted.
“What are you doing? Send me a selfie?” The message continued with Kuhu’s voice taking on a tentative tone.
Sweety blushed. This girl was too much. She looked back at Kuhu’s picture and smiled, running her finger gently across the image on her screen. She then looked up at her own reflection in the mirror across the room. Her hair was a bit frizzy from sleeping on it, and her clothes looked quite rumpled. Even her face hadn’t been washed for the morning. There was no way she would let Kuhu see her like this.
“Nahi Kuhu, abhi nahi, baad mein maybe? (No Kuhu, not now, later maybe?)” she sent off the voice note, hoping the girl wouldn’t be too annoyed.
“Achha theek hain (ok fine). I’ll hold you to that. But at least tell me what you’re doing or what your room is like maybe?” Kuhu bargained.
Mai kya kahu (What should I say)? Sweety thought. She looked around her room. It was so ordinary; a bookshelf in the far corner, her desk with all her art supplies on it, the wardrobe that held her clothes, and a few of her childhood drawings that her dad had insisted on framing. Nothing exciting, but if Kuhu wanted to know then she would describe it exactly as it was.
“I..I’m not doing anything really, just — “
"Darvaza kholo! (Open the door!)" Babloo Virji was banging on her door. She jumped to her feet. In her haste she released the record button, sending the incomplete message to Kuhu. She switched off her phone and tucked it under her pillow. He was jostling the doorknob. She rubbed her eyes to feign sleepiness as she unlocked the door.
“K-k-kya hai Babloo Virji?” She asked timidly, looking at the ground.
“Why was the door locked? Kisse baat kar rahi thi?! (Who were you talking to?)” He asked, seething with anger. She whimpered at his rough tone.
“Bol!” he shouted, raising his voice at her.
“N-n-noone, Babloo Virji, mai so rahi thi (I was sleeping),” she lied.
“Jhoot! You were talking to that girl!” He accused, pointing sharply at her.
“Nai-nai-nahi Babloo Virji, kasam se (promise),” she lied again, curling into herself a bit.
As he charged towards her his phone rang, saving her for the moment. He glared at her and pointed one last time before turning swiftly and answering the call. She shakily released a breath she didn't even realise she was holding. This was far from over.