Her FaceBook Friend

Chapter 36

“Kindness is crying with someone who is crying and smiling with someone who is smiling. Kindness is being there for the person.”

[Jacqueline’s Pov]

I felt a hand on my shoulders. My sister. I turned towards her, smiled, and turned back again towards the window. Children were playing hide and seek. Every kid was trying their best to hide themselves and I felt resonated with it. Isn’t my life the same as the game of hiding and seeking? I heard my sister saying,

“What’s wrong Jacqueline?” My brain replied, “Nothing.” I saw her standing numb behind me listening to my reply as if speechless.

“Your eyes are red.” She sat beside me uttering those words.

“I accidentally touched it with my hands after eating.”

“Okay.” This time she didn’t utter anything at all. Just sitting in silence.

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“Did you have Lunch?”

“No.”

“I didn’t either. How about I bring it here and we can have lunch together?”

I smiled again at myself. At least I have two people who give a damn about me.

“Okay.”

She stood up and left the room. I was thankful that she chose to not talk about it. Sometimes you don’t know what you are feeling. Sometimes if you do know, you don’t know how to explain it to people. It’s gambling though. Everyone would use their insecurities once they are mad at you. Or hate you.

I kept stirring the teacup with the sp***. Looking out the window, the dawn was approaching and the wind from the window was enveloping me as the flowers swayed due to its pressure side by side. Everything was beautiful except for me. Sighing I sipped on the milk tea enjoying the warmth it brought me.

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The scene of the school flashed before my eyes. I spent the whole day in one of the stalls of the washroom waiting for the bell to ring. And when it did I left the school for home. I chose to come back in the taxi and not the school bus. I also had sent a text message to Remo after some time in the washroom.

“Thank you, Remo. I was consumed with sadness before I heard this song. But now your beautiful song has consumed me like a virus.”

I told him how his voice had yielded a fabric of love all over me, how his rhythmic flow of voice had managed to calm my heart. How his words had helped me to fade away some sad memories and brought me to a halt. How much I was thankful to him. But there was no response at least not yet. He must have been busy. Maybe he would have been having a bad day too like me.

The sound of footsteps brings me back to my senses and I place the teacup on the side. Looking back, I notice My sister is back with a tray of chapatis and Bean curry with chocolate of Dairy Milk. I loved chocolates as much as I loved anything. I tried to blurt out something to make her believe I was fine but my mouth doesn’t support me. I stood up to close the window but she stopped me and brought a small table towards it. Placing the tray of food on it.

I listen to her silently as she jokes about our life and then suddenly says she believes we will be fine one day. But I don’t shake either. I tell her I don’t believe in whether we will ever be fine.

I chew one bite after another occasionally responding to her words. Fake laughing but trying to make her feel I am laughing in reality. The bean curry burns my tongue but I don’t wince. One after another I take small bites. Guilt ties to my soul, settling on me like dust does proudly. I stay silent watching as she furrows her black eyes, then sighs then tries to make me laugh again with a stupid joke.

After she was done eating she realized she wouldn’t be able to make me happy so she sighs again. Taking the empty plates out of the room but leaving the chocolate on the table. ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

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I ignore the chocolate and dip my head in the rock bed. I take out my journal and start writing. I like making cartoons of people when I am sad. But I create it only for the people I like. My list is very short though. Of course, my sister comes first and then comes our bus uncle. He had always been kind to me. Then comes Riya and then a few of the people in my neighborhood. I like writing for them too, I write four lines with every cartoon. Like a poem, they are not worth reading but I like doing it. It’s like an unopened letter to them in which I have opened my heart. They will never know about it, perhaps Nikki does. She knows about me doodling things on my journal but she doesn’t say anything. She lets me do it. It’s like my own people’s diary. I feel their kindness every time I open one page. Like our bus driver, I had drawn a cap on his head a b***on nose, and red lips because he likes eating Paan. Paan keeps his lips stained with red, it’s as if he had applied lipstick on his lips. I have drawn his black round brows and then his black eyes. He has some problems in his eyes he can not focus on one thing. Then comes his little protruding belly which is wrapped in a brown shirt that is cheap followed by his pants.

He had helped me when I was having trouble reaching school. He used to wait for me for more than 15 minutes without even knowing me despite the complaints from my bus mates. He hugged me once

when I was crying. He is a great man. I haven’t written a poem for him yet because I know he will help me in the future too. And I don’t want to mess up my journal by changing poetry again and again. I would wait till the end.

It has been weeks since I have drawn someone’s cartoon. Perhaps I only do it when I am sad and happy at the same time. This time, I want to draw a cartoon for Remo. The name alone brings calmness to me. I start from his head and then his round eyes.

A notification made me jump from my place and I found myself walking. I am excited to see his text today, why I didn’t know. But I want to know how he will respond. My fingers fight the urge to unlock the screen, the more I try hard the more I mess up. At last, I opened the message.

“I am glad you liked it, Jacqueline. I am sorry you had to go through something sad. Are you okay now? If you are? Do you want to talk about it? It was not just a song Jacqueline, it was what I compiled to make you realize you can always come to me if you have something that you can not take it in. I am here for you.”

My heart flutters in my chest and my fingers press on his text as if believing these words were coming from his mouth and heart, not just his fingers.