Chapter Text
“Guys, hurry up, I can’t play after seven thirty." Ravi urged, shaking his head as the group paid no heed to his words.
“I think Ice and Water is good.” Rithik glanced at his friend and quickly added.
“Let's play Hide and Seek.” Kruthika suggested and they all shifted in her favour.
“Yeah, I think Hide and Seek is good.”
“I’m okay with it.”
“Wait, how’d we not think of it before?”
Multiple voices overlapped in agreement.
They've been at this since they got back from school. It took fifteen minutes to bargain with Ravi’s mother and.. Arjun lost track of time after they formed a circle and began discussing.
“I vote for Ice and Water! Anyone else?” Arjun raised his hand.
Kruthika frowned. Ravi and Rithik raised their hands but the rest just shared glances. Arjun dejectedly put down his hand, and the other two followed.
“Okay, those who want to play Hide and Seek?”
Except for the three of them, the rest raised their hands. Kruthika smiled, “Majority wins! Come on, let's play Hide and Seek now.”
Arjun stood still in place stubbornly, as if turned into a statue as the group walked towards the edge of the street. He glared at the ground and the sound of fading footsteps. No one even bothered to turn and look. He gritted his teeth and stomped back home, muttering to himself.
His drawing stationery was splayed out on the wall. Arjun was initially excited when they approached him to play. The previous day was one of those days on which he stayed up late thinking about what game to play and how fun it would be.
Arjun hoisted himself up on the wall, flailing his legs with effort. He pushed his feet against the wall for momentum. He let out a breath as he hung on the wall with his torso. His torso ached, and he fell back to the ground on his feet, rubbing his abdomen with a grimace.
Nothing was going his way. He sulked as he made his way to the other side of the wall. Where their basil plant and curry leaf plants sunbathed. Stepping onto the ledge which separated soil and limestone, he got onto the wall.
He really hadn’t gotten taller.
Arjun shifted, adjusting on the wall as he stretched out his legs. The deep bow between his eyebrows was still prevalent. He took the scrapbook into his lap, flipping the pages intensely, hoping the caterpillar made out of craft paper would withstand his wrath.
With the blue crayon in his grasp tight, he colored the beach in light strokes. Laughter and squeals filled his ears. He swung his legs, though his mother condemned him for doing so.
Slippers hung onto his feet for their lives, he clutched them with his toes with all his might. It would be a hassle to get down just for them. If Bheem were here, he would have supported him, Arjun was sure. But Bheem had entered the study room and didn’t come out no matter how much he knocked.
The twins lazily watched TV as they slept on the ground, entangled. Though he tried dragging Nakul out, it was a futile attempt. And Yudhisthir had long grown out of the act of playing with the children in the streets. Some weren't even born back when Yudhi played, Arjun remembered bits and pieces.
He could see two shadows approach him from the corner of his vision. They were holding hands, one a woman, tall and thin, and the other a boy, tufts of hair looking like clouds wandering about in the sky. Their facial features were the same, from eyes to the dimples as they smiled at him.
He remembered when his mother would ask him, "Whose nose is this?" as she pointed at his nose. He blinked at her, wouldn't his nose be... his?
"It's your father's!" She answered her own question, smiling widely before muttering to herself, "He's going to be late again.."
Now, she doesn't even talk of him.
Arjun shook the thoughts away.
The boy, whose hair looked like it could never succumb to a comb, stared at him weirdly. Those big brown eyes gazed at him as if they were looking into his soul. He opted to look at the Aunty instead. He found her eyes closed, with a friendly smile.
The smell of the fragrant jasmines hit him, and he realised who they were. His mother would always pluck the jasmines from the house beside, offering them to god or making a gajra.
"Is your mother home?"
"Yes. She's in the living room."
Yudhisthir would always say that when asked a question, you must make your answer clear and confident. When speaking to elders, be respectful with their age in mind.
She smiled once again; Arjun blinked at her. Who smiled that much? She crouched down and cupped the boy’s head.
Adjusting the stray strands, she spoke, "Kanha, you have to behave. Okay?" She then turned towards him and smiled.
"What's your name?"
"Arjun, Aunty."
What joy his name could bring, he didn't know. She smiled once more before patting 'Kanha' and standing up.
“You two get along.”
That was all he was left with. Kanha blinked his doe eyes and hoisted himself onto the wall. A smile blossomed on his face.
“What are you drawing?” He moved closer; their knees crashed, and their shoulders touched as he leaned. Arjun would have fallen over at any moment if Kanha kept it up.
“The beach.” He removed his other hand, wedging it between the small gap behind them.
The half colored beach looked incredibly sad. Arjun started to coat the textured paper with extra force, roughly.
The crayon snapped into two with a sharp crack. Krishna made an exaggerated noise of surprise while Arjun stared at the crayon in disbelief. Though it was normal, it made him feel immensely sad. Because this was one of the normal things he did with his father. Drawing silly animals and putting them on the fridge with crappy souvenir magnets. The second half fell while he held the pointed part.
Noticing his plight, Krishna jumped down and faced him. One hand planted on his hip, he said, “I'll lend you another. Come on.”
Arjun gripped his trousers, eyes hazy. He condemned himself for crying now of all times. “It won't be the same colour.”
He tried to hold back his tears, but it was useless. His father had gifted them a bunch of shades and different crayons unlike any he'd ever seen. He remembered boasting about it to his then classmates, who admitted it was extremely cool.
After his father died, he didn't pick them up for a long time. When he finally did, it only ended with him breaking his favourite crayon. He turned his head towards the scrapbook, making sure to put it aside.
“Don't be so sure! It could be the same colour.”
At this, he looked up. Arjun truly noticed those bright, round eyes for what they were. Fearless and bold, reassuring and calm. How could such conflicting emotions swirl in harmony in those cacao eyes?
Arjun shook his head stubbornly, “It—”
“Did you see it?”
At this, he blinked, staunching his tears. That was true. He didn’t.
“No…” he shook his head.
“So why are you talking about it like you already know? I'm sure we can find it. You have my word.”
A confident smile on his face, he held out a hand. Arjun didn't know what to hand him. He gave the broken piece of crayon and jumped down, wincing lightly.
It was only then that the height difference was acknowledged; Arjun tilted his head up and found the other tilting his head, wondering.
“How did you get up on the wall?”
At this, he made a stupefied face and decided not to grace him with an answer. Kanha accepted it easily and led the way instead of asking again.
The gate was already half open; the jasmine climber ran along a wire towards his house. The boundary wall had some DIY plant pots which he and his brothers did for fun. Kanha opened the door and led him in. The living room was under-furnished, with no couch in sight, as a girl sat on the floor answering the questions of a cartoon character. He remembered watching it with Bheem a lot.
Without disturbing her, the two made their way into another room, less spacious, with the door already open. A boy— much older than both of them, and maybe even Yudhisthir- sat on a chair,
At the sound of footsteps, he first hadn’t realised there was someone else. “Krishna? Back already? Ma—” he cut himself off, the wheels on the chair against the tiles rattled as he spun around.
The sight he saw was his little brother with a confident, easy smile and another kid, holding a broken blue crayon, walking with a sorrowful demeanour.
“What happened?” he asked, fully turning toward the pair.
“He broke his special crayon!” Kanha announced loudly, and Arjun could feel his face become warm. It really wasn’t that special, was it?
“So, what?” He raised an eyebrow.
Arjun hid behind Kanha; the latter’s older brother had eyes which, quite honestly, made the hair strands on his neck stand.
“I’ll lend him one! I have many.” He sang a song as he took Arjun’s hand in his.
“Are you not making use of the ones I gifted?” Krishna's brother inquired, narrowing his eyes, perhaps even truly sad that Kanha wasn’t.
“I do! But you’ve bought me too many. I’m sure I can find a spare.” He answered.
His older brother shook his head, as if it were the norm. A smile crept onto his face, and he returned to texting aggressively.
When Krishna took out a huge plastic box of art supplies and set it on the floor. Arjun just looked at him with a dumbfounded expression. He, in turn, smiled and opened the case.
“There’s Teal, Cobalt, Navy, Indigo, Sapphire…”
“Too many. Let’s compare it with my crayon colour.”
“That’s genius!” a measly compliment, and yet he found his face warm and cheeks tinted pink.
They opened every crayon box they could and scoured for the one that was the most accurate.
"Is it this?"
"No, it's too dark."
"This?"
"Too light."
And, at last,
“That’s Cerulean,” Krishna announced aloud.
“Neat. I think this one’s it.” Arjun hovered his hand above it.
“Think so too! Take it!”
“Huh? But you’ll miss a colour.” He retrieved his hand.
“I don’t usually draw much! Maybe Subhadra would be more concerned.” Krishna tilted his head.
“But—”
“I really don’t care! You need to finish drawing your beach. Come on, let’s go!”
He tugged at Arjun’s sleeve, pushing the crayon into his hand. Taking the broken piece for himself, he threw it into the plastic box before putting it back above the shelf. Krishna led him back into the hall.
“I’ll be back with Ma!” He said to his brother.
Krishna's brother only let out a hum in response.
They were walking back when they were met with Subhadra, who was walking toward them angrily, as the TV played an advertisement. It didn’t have a countdown yet, making it feel like she had to wait ages before irritation crept in.
“Kanha, you ate the last biscuit!” She crossed her arms and tried to look angry. It just ended up adorable instead.
“I’m sorry! I’ll make sure not to do it the next time.” He put his hands up, admitting defeat.
She then turned to Arjun. “Who are you?”
“Arjun, I live next door. To the left.” He replied.
“Left? Is it that side or this side?” She pointed in two directions, tilting her head.
“That side— No, this side.” He said; for a moment, he forgot that their lefts and rights weren’t the same.
She blinked at him before noticing that the show was back and left without a proper goodbye.
They stood there, dumbfounded, before Krishna suddenly took his sleeve in his hand and ran out.
Arjun stumbled at the sudden dash and then caught up to him. It wasn’t a long run anyway.
Krishna got on the wall and patted excitedly as Arjun handed him the crayon to properly get up. Arjun went to the other side of the wall and climbed onto the ledge, which made it easier for him to climb. Krishna didn’t mention it. He colored the beach, as Krishna took the remaining half of the crayon left behind.
“Can I colour the sand?” He requested.
“Sure. These are waves here… and…”
"That's really cool! I think if you added a cow here, it would be better." Krishna suggested.
"...What?" Arjun blinked at him.
Krishna looked offended at the confusion on his face.
"Cows can be at the beach." Krishna said, "I've seen cows at the beach." He provided it as evidence.
Arjun abandoned his drawing. "But that's what you've seen. I've never seen a cow at the beach."
"Have you been to the beach? It's—"
"I've not." Arjun interrupted. Their family rarely had the chance to travel, expenses and whatnot. After Arjun had retained memories, they hadn't travelled to water bodies.
There was silence, and Arjun wished he hadn't said that.
Krishna's eyes gleamed all of a sudden. "That's impressive! You've drawn the beach without knowing what it looks like?"
Arjun felt his face heat up. "I've seen movies. I do know what it looks like. Just never been there in person."
"Oh." Krishna blinked at him. He then smiled, dimples peeking out. "So, you can trust me when I say that cows go to the beach!"
Arjun frowned. "But what do they do?"
"They sit on the sand and sunbathe! And— enjoy water splashing against their hooves! And—" Krishna made wild gestures, excitedly, and Arjun was worried that his crayon would break in half from this enthusiasm.
When dusk settled, and Krishna's mom took him home, Arjun sat on the wall, smiling at his drawing. Perhaps today's misfortune had given him fortune.
Krishna lent him the crayon and didn’t ask for it back. Arjun borrowed it and didn’t plan on giving it back.