I can see the sky. Of course, when you’re lying on the ground on your back, you’ll hardly see the Vindhya mess. Oh wait, I can see it if I tilt my head to the side. Well, that I can see the sky is my point.
It’s almost 8, I can tell. I see girls walking. Some are rushing, some are running, and I can see some halfway between walking and running- the sweet spot. They’re not quite ready to admit that they’re late, but also not willing to risk it. I narrow my eyes, have it your way then. I spot a girl speed walking, a slice of bread in her mouth. My stomach rumbles and I growl. No, I’m not hungry. Definitely not.
I understand all of them, in their own way. These are just normal students. They have their own faults like everyone else. Nothing fundamentally wrong with them. But there are a few that you should be scared of, the absolute monsters. They are not many in number, fortunately. They look like normal people, but then you see them out and you know. You just know. How can I tell them apart, you ask? They are early. They come for breakfast long before these rushing girls even get out of their beds, I’m sure. How do they do it? As I now lie on the ground, relaxed and happy, I will let the question slide, and instead just sneer at them as they pass by, much too early.
For now, I’m undisturbed. I see a few people jumping into an imaginary lane at the sight of me from yards away. They shake and tremble as they pass by me. Have they never seen someone relax? Out in the sun? Lying on the ground? Maybe not. They can never. Not if they want to keep up 85% attendance.
Then there are the ones that scream, and coo at you, as their faces contort into some of the most bizarre expressions I have ever seen. Do they think that’s comforting? I think they do. But it’s not, I can tell you that. I wouldn’t know the instinct behind such behavior, but I certainly don’t mind being the center of their attention. There are ones that fall in the middle. They don’t pay me attention, they don’t coo at me, nor do they get scared of me. They walk right past me (or cycle past me, which is terrifying). I wonder, what makes them so indifferent to someone lying in their way? I remember someone who stopped to look me straight in the eyes a few days back. She stood there, unblinking and indifferent. With an expressionless face rivaling my own, she had recited, “Nokkeda nammude margey kidakkunna markada neeyangu maari kida saddha”. I blinked at her after that, but she didn’t blink back. I stood up reluctantly, puffing, and moved to lie down a bit further away. I still think she could have used it better on a stubborn monkey instead.
I can still see the sky. She’s late today, it’s almost noon. I wish I could tell you I know that because of the position of the sun, but it’s mostly because of the approaching noise of chattering and cycles. It’s those cycles again, trying to run me over. I can now admit that I am hungry. Really hungry. I suppose this is my life now. Hungry and with nothing to- Wait! That’s the bell. My ears perk up.
“Oreo!”
I can see her ringing the bell, looking pointedly at me. That’s my cue. I get up and shake myself up a bit. About time, woman. I’ve been waiting all day. It’s not like cats can feed themselves.
Text by Meghna M
Illustration by Namrata Nirmal
Article 19 