by Namita Singh
up?” I ask, as I approach him.
His eyes snap towards me and his complexion becomes even more pallid.
“Are you okay?” I ask, a little worried.
His eyes flick back and forth between me and my mother, as if he is contemplating something. Then he abruptly garbs me by the arm and drags me out of the shop. I try to jerk my arm off but sadly I do not succeed. Aakir is a lot stronger than me. I really want that to change once I have matured. I do not want to think how much of a kick it will be at my ego if I still remain weaker than him after maturation. We step outside the shop and he lets go of my arm before I can get more annoyed.
“What the hell?” I say as both of us turn to face each other.
“She’s-my-partner.” He blurts.
“Huh?”
He punches my arm, making me wince. I am steadily growing to dislike his strength.
“She’s…she’s my partner.” He says, slowly this time. He looks anxious and panicky- never a good combination. Especially for someone like Aakir.
It is after another moment I take notice of his words. Partner? What partner? And who ‘she’?
“What?” is my intelligent reaction.
He, scowling now, punches my arm yet again.
“Hey!” I snap, rubbing the spot on the arm he just hit, “I am sick.”
He rolls his eyes, then, “What do I do?” he starts, looking terrified. “Am I supposed to talk to her now? I don’t even know her! I-”
“Calm down.” I tell him. He immediately starts worrying his lower lip. But at least he has shut up. “Now,” I start, “What do you mean? What partner? Who ‘she’?”
He looks exasperated as he says, “She,” he points to the door of our shop, “She – that girl talking to Nina aunt – she is my partner!”
I let the information come through, let it sink in. Aakir has found his partner. Aakir has bloody found his partner! To be honest, I never accepted that we’ll find partners someday. It is too bizarre a tradition to be adopted, or expected. Even if not for the orthodox trend, it is just too surreal for one of us to go through such an ordeal. It’s like I assumed only our eldersto undergo such things, but weremain resistant.
“Alright,” I say but pause. My pause becomes too lengthy as Aakir grows agitated.
“Say something!” he urges.
“I don’t know what to say.” I blurt.
Aakir continues to chew on his lip, the panic-stricken face plastered on his head.
“I am just shocked.” I tell him.
“No shit.” He rolls his eyes.
“Well…I didn’t even see her.” I say dumbly.
“What do I do?” Aakir says, ignoring my daft remarks, “This is so bloody awful. I don’t even know her! Not even her name!”
Yes, that definitely sounds awful.
“How did you know?” I ask him. I know that it is through the aura of your partner that you realize that she is the one. But what exactly does it feel like? How is it distinguishable from other people? I have never been much interested in this particular topic to raise specific inquiries; but watching Aakir undergoing this ordeal, I feel the sudden urge to be aware of how exactly it works.
“I just do.” Aakir says with ambiguity, more worried about his unknown partner at the moment.
“How?” I stress.
He looks annoyed for a moment, like my parents lookwhenever I ask a question too many times. But then he suspires, “Her aura. It’s very attractive.”
I wait for him to elaborate, but he says nothing.
“That’s it?” I let my disappointment show in those two words.
Aakir shakes his head, tiredly. “It’s complicated.” He says quietly. “The aura is attractive…so appealing that I feel a very strong urge to be around it. I just got a feeling…feeling…” he huffs out his breath, “I can’t explain, okay?” he says, struggling with words, “I just know she is the one.”
Before I can say anything, the door to our shop opens and the two girls move out, chatting amongst themselves. They probably seem a little older than us…Both are blondes, one slightly shorter than the other. Err…which one is Aakir’s partner? I see Aakir’s widened eyes glued to the taller blonde. She is pretty. Not the usual ‘she’s cute’ pretty, but a very ‘sturdy’ looking pretty…if that makes any sense. Both the girls smile at us in politeness and then pass by, walking down the street.
“Oh shit, she is going!” Aakir exclaims a little too late.
“Um, you’re going to follow her?”
“Shouldn’t I?”
“Um…”
“What if I don’t see her again?”
“Well…”
“She is going to disappear out of sight, don’t give me ‘um’s and ‘well’s!” he snaps at me.
I cringe, “Okay, okay,” I say, raising my hand in peace, “Go after her…err, talk or whatever. Be subtle,” I say sternly, “And calm,” I say with double the sternness, “I’ll tell aunt and mom.”
“Uh huh.” Aakir says absentmindedly. The bugger doesn’t even spare me a glance and starts walking towards the girls.
Oh, well.
Hasn’t it been a day full of surprises? In a trance, I move back inside the shop and inform aunt and mother of the sudden development. Rufina aunt is fairly surprised and dumbly, like me, wonders who the girl is, since she was pretty occupied to notice those two girls. My mother on the other hand is ecstatic. She tells aunt that the girl is very pretty and that she is immensely happy for Aakir. Aunt Rufina contributes her thoughts upon Aakir’s happiness as well. Like the two lovely sisters they are, they start gossiping about the event and how dandy it is for one of their sons to have finally found his companion. I’ll admit, I am a little weird-ed out at their reactions.
Then my mother notices my paleness and the danky appearance. Her happiness immediately turns into concern. But once she realizes the reason behind my sudden ill-looking state, she becomes the happiest being on this planet. She tries to come along with me to home to take care of me since I am expected to get sick. It takes a lot of time to convince her otherwise. I promise her to call if I start to get worse. She is appeased and starts focusing on the goodness this day has brought. She starts gushing how their enjoyment is doubled by both the good news in a single day. At some point they even start discussing about throwing some party over the weekend for this. The overflow of estrogen being too much, I take my leave fairly quickly.
On my way home I text my father that I am running a fever. He should know that I am about to mature. His reply is a simple ‘okay’ just like I expected. I spend a few hours at home, alone in my room. I do not feel any changes in the physiological sense. Again, it’s a little warmer but that’s about it. When is the sickness supposed to start? Huffing, I lay down in my bed, awaiting the inevitable. Unfortunately, it’s Aakir who gets my attention before any sickness. Our rooms are on the same floor, the second floor, just below the attic. A spare room also resides on this floor, which usually remains vacant. The door to my room is open. I watch as Aakir angrily stomps towards his door. Angrily? Now that’s a surprise…
“How did it go?” I ask him in the normal pitch. He is a mature therian. He’ll hear me even if I whisper.
Aakir halts his steps, retreats and walks towards my door. Scowling, he pauses at my door.
“She called me a bloody ‘kid’!” he shouts, ireful.
I raise my eyebrow, “You’re kidding me?”
“Apparently, I am too ‘young’to be hitting on ‘college girls’ like herself!”
I immediately notice that he is not the usual angry, the one where it takes one, maybe two words, to appease him. He is that angry, the one where he ends up sulking. I don’t even remember when was the last time I saw him being that type of angry. He doesn’t wait for my response and turns away, stomping to his room. He shuts his door with a bang, making me wince. Well. He definitely doesn’t want to talk to anyone for a good few hours.
The women of the house impatiently a
nnounce the good news to everyone over supper. Even after approximately five hours, I am feeling perfectly fine. So, I end up joining everyone at the kitchen island. Since it’s the weekend, Faith and Rahul are home. Everybody is quite felicitous over the news, except for Aunt Gwen of course, who doesn’t join us as usual. It gets slightly irritating after a while, when everybody keeps checking my temperature and asking if I am feeling alright. I wonder where I was when everybody must have been gushing at Aakir during his maturation, becauseI didn’t even get the hint of him getting sick during his maturation. Maybe because Aakir’s transformation occurred during the night time when everybody was asleep. It doesn’t help that Aakir doesn’t join for supper tonight. The over joyous mood seems redundant without his presence.
Before I know it, it is night and I am feeling as dandy as I have been feeling the whole day. I am itching to ask when will I start getting sick but Aakir is still brooding in his room and everybody else has retired to their rooms. Mother was insisting to sleep in my room tonight but I assured her that I’ll call her if I get even slightly sick. This time she gets easily appeased.
It’s almost around two AM in the morning and I lay wide awake, waiting for something that doesn’t seem to be approaching. Is this even the maturation event? Why am I not feeling even slightly discomforted? Then I start feeling dread. What if I am not getting mature and this is just a fluke? Father seemed quite pleased, though I cannot be sure with his stoic face, but I do believe that he seemed a little proud of the development. I really,