Chapter 1 : Clouding Grey

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No, there were no grey clouds in the sky. It was the rainy season though - a rare sunny day of the rainy season.

On a second thought, I looked up, out of the window.

Oh, it was evening already, not a 'day' anymore.

I paused for a minute, looking at the block of slate before me, not really seeing it, calculating the hours left before Father returned home from his office.

Two more hours. Plenty of time to finish this.

Do you know that there is a difference between looking and seeing? The same is with touching and feeling. Eating and tasting. Hearing and listening. Every second action is more intense than the first one. At least, that's what I think. Looking at a boy is not the same as seeing a boy now, is it? 

Get my point? 

No? 

Well then, accept the fact that you are as dumb as I was once.

When you look at a boy, you just register the fact that he is a boy. But when you see a boy, you tend to observe more details about his features - maybe his face is a bit rounder than usual, his eyes a little brighter than the plenty of others you've seen before. Maybe you'll see how young he looks when he laughs, and that cute devilish grin that can make you do anything for him. Maybe that's why when people date, they say they're 'seeing' each other, not just 'looking at' each other.

As you have probably realised by now, I talk more to myself than with others. In fact, I love to have deeply insightful and philosophical conversations with myself because believe it or not, I don't know anyone who has a brain that can keep up with mine.

That was some good sarcasm if you didn't have guessed already. I'm just weird like that. Just the way I was daydreaming about this little house in the quiet neighbourhood that I had sketched out on the stencil paper.

Yes, I WAS wondering if it had a bathtub or a handshower or both inside its bathrooms. Or a king-sized bed in the master bedroom where I could cuddle my partner all night long. Maybe for the day too. Actually, I'm not gonna pass up any opportunity to cuddle. And it doesn't even exist. The house. The quiet neighbourhood. The partner. Nothing. None of it.

I sighed loudly for everybody in the room to hear. The only thing was, there were nobody except me. No one was supposed be either.

You know what's the perk of having conversations solely with yourself? There's only one though. You don't get judged for talking nonsense continuously on one random topic after another. That's a pretty good one. You know, everyone should have weird conversations with themselves and waste their time.

I mean, it's not a waste of time. Why would I do something that's a waste of time? Nah-uh.

I looked at my slate again. And then at the closed door of the room. And then at the clock on the wall facing me.

One hour had passed.

Wow! Am I really that interesting that I didn't even notice time flying by? Does Time have wings? Like albatross-wings or Cupid-wings? Does Cupid even know that Time stole his wings?

Okay, stop. Even I'm starting to judge myself now.

Do you know that penguins and polar bears don't live together? Penguins are from Antarctica and polar bears are from the Arctic region. I find it funny though, as if opposite poles attract them. Did the actress in The Golden Compass ride a polar bear for real? I want to ride one too.

I want to have a polar bear as my pet. Its white fur coat looks soft enough on TV to cuddle to sleep every night. Cause God knows no one except Zara and a polar bear would want to cuddle me. Not after knowing who I am, rather, who I was.

Oh, where are my manners? I am Roy.

Hi Roy.

Hello! How are you?

Don't get weird.

The intruding knock rudely brought me out of my pretty little head. It wasn't that pretty after a guy banged it on the edge of a sink but yeah, whatever. That was some time ago and it had long healed since then.

Back to the problem at hand. The door knob turned and I became aware of who it was. The thought alone was disturbing to say the least.

In my family, if you could call it a family that is, there was only one person who didn't care twice about bringing disturbing thoughts into my head, my pretty little head.

Father.

'Nuff said.

"You're still sitting among those hammer and nails and slate? This is exactly the same way I last saw you in the morning before leaving for office." Father's eyes scanned the room for some more mistakes before they landed on me. The biggest mistake of them all. Shouldn't have taken so long.

I shrugged nonchalantly at his words. "What a coincidence!"

"I heard that."

"What a surprise! You're not deaf?"

Okay, the last part was supposed to be silent. It wasn't much silent apparently.

"Watch yourself, kid."

"Bring me a mirror."

"Riyaaz."

I held up my hands in mock surrender, my eyes still trained on the slate piece before me.

He just had to call me by my real name, didn't he? Such a -

Yeah, you can go back to hating me like you always did. You're most welcome to do so. I am always hated. Believe me, even I hate my ability to get people to hate me.

Thank you.

My hands fell back at my sides when I realised he hadn't left yet.

Do I have to look up? Like really? Just... why?

I begrudgingly looked up as Father had been waiting for that opportunity only. He was still in his office attire - full sleeved shirt and dress pants and all.

"Why are you so bitter always?"

I almost laughed at that. Almost. But laughing nowadays made my jaws hurt.

"Give me some sugar then. All I've ever had in my life is the Karela juice."

Father sighed. "You're hopeless."

"But you just called me Riyaaz?"

I hadn't noticed when Mother had entered the room. She was smiling beside Father. Well well, at least someone was enjoying the show.

"I'm tired. I'm so tired of dealing with you like this."

The feeling is mutual.

As if reading my mind, Mother spoke up, "Then you can continue your Father-Son bickering later on. Now come on, your tea is growing cold." She ushered him outside, clicking the door shut behind themselves.

You think this is a normal daily Father-Son bickering?

For us, yes.

For others?

You'd be so wrong to think that, babe, so wrong.

And you are still reading?

Amazing.

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