There was a slight coolness in the morning air when I stepped into the school ground. My bag swaying on one shoulder, as if carrying the small burden of life.
Nami was already waiting, arms crossed over her chest, with the same irritated look on her face that comes after explaining things to someone a hundred times.
She was shocked to see me.
"Subh came to meet me this morning," she said, glaring. "He is really going to propose to Suhina. Think about it!"
I took a tired breath.
"Let him do it. What can we do?"
We had barely exchanged a few words when the class erupted in commotion.
Whispers, turning of necks, a sparkle in the eyes and an incomplete smile on the lips.
I glared and looked where everyone's eyes were.
And what I saw gave a slight jolt to my heart.
Subh was sitting on his knees.
Suhina was in front of her - still as stiff and still as oblivious.
"I really like you, Suhina," Subh said.
The voice was trembling, but the intention was strong.
The sound of a pin dropping in the room could have been heard.
But the answer?
Suhina laughed loudly. Openly, shamelessly.
"Are you crazy, Subh?" she said, wrinkling her nose.
"You really think I could like you? First look at yourself, then at me."
Every word pierced Subh's chest like a knife.
Not only did she refuse, but she squeezed his soul out in front of the class.
Suhina didn't even turn around.
She just kept walking, as if she had kicked something useless.
Subh remained on his knees.
Emptiness kept dripping from his eyes.
After a while, he stood up—but as if an old building had survived a sudden collapse.
Shoulders drooped, eyes filled with the emptiness of broken hope.
Just then the teacher entered the class.
Everyone seemed to have huddled in their chairs.
But the whispers were still alive.
Subh went and sat on his seat.
But something inside him had died.
Now he was neither the answer to any question, nor a part of any joke.
As if life had handed him a torn book.
I too felt a strange pang for him.
We had explained so much to him. But when the heart is adamant, the mind can do nothing.
"I had already told him," Nami whispered, making a face.
"Now at least he must have understood," I said in a tired voice.
Nami shook her head in irritation.
"Even Suhina... could have refused a little gently."
I laughed.
"Nami? Then how does she get everyone's attention?"
Nami laughed softly too.
But the teacher's voice echoed and our conversation was buried there.
The class returned to its old routine.
But my mind... it wandered somewhere else.
My eyes involuntarily went to Arin again and again.
He was writing something in his notebook, a slight wrinkle on his forehead, as if he was solving a problem or himself.
Sometimes his fingers would become sluggish, staring at the desk, boredly.
Then he would suddenly look around—as if he was looking for a way to escape through the window.
Then he would laugh with his friends—leaning back, throwing his head back, as if the whole world was a joke.
Then there would be little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes—the kind that form in a genuine smile.
Sometimes their fun would turn into a scuffle—some would push someone, some would pat someone on the back while laughing. But as soon as the teacher's eyes turned...
Arin would change immediately.
Straight back, pen in hand, as if he was the most straight and cultured boy.
I suppressed a smile.
How easily he could change his character-
Naughty boy and ideal student.
As if two whole worlds lived inside him.
And yet... I don't know why, it was difficult to take my eyes off him.