Haider

It was a Tuesday afternoon. His students were in nap time for about thirty minutes and it felt like he could finally take his first real breath of the day.

That morning, he had arrived in the nick of time so none of the home room teachers could get a hold of him and ask intrusive questions. Like why he was back to work two weeks earlier. Seeing as he was still reeling from the ghosts of Chanderi’s smiles, he probably should have stayed away and made use of those two weeks to exorcize her.

He snorted to himself. He had come back because he knew the routine of work and the antics of his children were exactly the distractions he needed.

He was sitting at his table since the students were spread out around the classroom floor. The only lights came from the gaps in the window curtains. All tube lights were off. Nap time was his favourite. His flock was safe, whispering to each other, getting along. No one, not even their principal, encroached on nap time which meant he could let his guard down from the alertness he was always in while at school.

His co-teacher was sitting next to him. Her fingers were twitching and he supposed they were missing her phone right now. All teachers had to deposit their phones at the reception and they only got it when they left.

While he was grateful for her silence, he was compelled to say, “I know you were looking forward to being the primary teacher for these two weeks. Sorry that you missed it.”

They were called co-teachers but since he was the senior teacher, the final decision for what happened inside the classroom was his.

She startled out of her daze and shrugged. Her next words though were unexpected. “Does that mean you’re single now?”

He frowned at the question. Was he single? What did you call someone who was in love with his…ex…betrothed? What was the right word to describe who Chanderi was to him?

“I suppose.” If single meant he wasn’t currently married then sure, he didn’t add.

 “Cool. Will you go on a date with me?”

The dim lighting of the room hid his horror and he was saved from answering her question when Ralia crawled up to him. She pulled his pant leg and he was happy to surrender to Ralia’s gossip than spend even a minute on his co-teacher’s question.

*

Chanderi’s day was going horribly. She was in her studio, which was basically one part of her bedroom, trying to get a head start on the trousseau she was designing for Pihu. She had other designs to work on too but she knew Pihu’s would be challenging because she wanted to make it perfect. She needed a challenge right now to distract her from the looming presence of Chiranjeev’s ghost in her bedroom.

It was ridiculous. He had never even been inside her sanctuary; her parents too weren’t allowed inside. But that was more of a tactical necessity. She didn’t want her father to leak her designs in a fit of fatherly pride and she did not need her mother cleaning her room and throwing away her extremely expensive fabric swatches because she thought it was garbage.

She didn’t know why he was hovering around her head as if he had some important feedback to give. It had to be her guilt which was making her imagine him so vividly in her space. Surely, his eyes didn’t twinkle and crinkle that way when he narrated how he once walked in on his students having a “who had the loudest fart” contest.

She laughed loudly, as if Ghost-Chiranjeev had just finished telling her the tale. God, when would this guilt go away? She had so much to do and she was wasting her time, staring moodily at the shoddy silhouette of a lehenga she had drawn.

Growling, she crumpled the paper and threw it in the dustbin next to her which already had five crumpled balls. Seeing the utter waste of good paper and ink, she pulled her laptop closer to study the pictures Pihu had shared with her as reference for what she was looking for.

An idea formed in her head, as fluidly as if it had just been waiting for her and she pulled a fresh sheet of paper, her hand moving as if it had a life of its own. And if Ghost-Chiranjeev patiently sat on her bed, waiting for her to finish before pouncing on her again, well, she would deal with it…never.

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Chapter 8 of 26 of the ongoing series Chanderi. You can read all posts here. Written as part of #BlogchatterA2Z.