I thanked my stars that the founder of my college or whoever she was-had her birth anniversary today, letting us scot-free off regular classes. Since my music class coincided on the same day, coming home and then again having to lift my backside for someplace else is too much effort.

Now that I had more than sufficient time, I experimented with Siya's cosmetics. The eyeliner looked like a squiggly line so it had to smeared with a wet cloth. But the kohl pencil, I could manage. I also layered some sunscreen onto my face like I'd seen my classmates do in the lunch interval.

It was usual in music class or so I thought, as I lugged my guitar on my shoulders and tried to make my way into the lounge. David was squinting at the notice board. Probably hearing my footsteps, he paused and looked at me.

"One second, don't go in there."

"Why the hell not?" I asked indignantly and he tugged at my hand and made me face the pale green notice board. Not much to see, monthly newsletter, state talent hunts blah, blah and of course, a long list of certified student bands from the institute. I perked up. The last time this list was put up was five years back when I'd taken the effort to practice the guitar and join the band. But the list had a purpose. These groups were going to perform someplace.

Inter-State Battle of the Bands, the gold lettering read and my heartbeat accelerated, we were probably a part of this competition and didn't have the faintest idea. I browsed through the list again, and there it was:

Kabir Bharadwaj Jha- Lead Keyboardist

Nia Agarwal-Singer and Lead Guitar

Ajay Kashyap

Blah...blah...blah.

I skimmed until the very end of the list and frowned.

"Why am I not in here? Don't tell me I'm thrown into some other band or something..."

David grinned, "Your self-confidence though, Shyla."

But of course, as I went through the list more cautiously, I still noticed that my name wasn't there even as a stand-in and to my comfort neither was Saloni's or any other sleepy guitarist from my batch.

I pushed past David indignantly, wanting to have a word with Kaustabh sir. Apart from him, there was also this lady in her late 50's who always adorned silk sarees and sat across the lawn with a majestic veena in her lap and her own herd of classical music students. But when I noticed that neither of them was roaming around, I realised that they were probably having a meeting with the others. I stood behind the translucent glass doors until I noticed his familiar 5 foot 10 figure sauntering out of the cabin leisurely.

"Sir!" I hissed, almost scaring him.

"What's the matter ma? Do you have something to share?" He asked gently as if I were a petulant little child,  "I wanted a word with you anyway. Tell me."

"Sir, I just noticed that my name is not there on the notice, you know, there was this monthly newsletter and I was just looking into it--Only my  name seemed to be missing, was it a printing mistake or--"

He gave me a cool, even look unaffected by my suppressed angst and tilted his head. I followed him meekly until he occupied a bean bag and gestured for me to sit next to him.

"See, Shyla when I put you in that band, I had a lot of expectations from you especially because you showed tremendous eagerness in that one month.It convinced me that you discovered your passion for music,  but now you've just gone cold. If there's someone who needs to move out and give new members a chance...I think it should be you. There's nothing wrong with moving out of the studio and relearning with the other guitarists you used to work with."

My cheeks coloured with his bleak statement.

Okay, I didn't give a shit now because I was with the cool kids but why--

I caught on to the keywords a beat later.

"Oh, so not only for this competition but from now on you mean? I'm not a part of this band?"

He was quietly observing the way I was taking it all in and nodded gravely,  "For now."

"But my friends--"

I began, I mostly meant Kabir because I knew what our time meant during class. That was basically our only time together. Even Goth Girl smiled at me last week!  Everything was fine.

"I'm not unfair naana. I spoke to your friends last class and all of them voted in favour of this."

My cheeks were definitely flaming by now. "Oh," I croaked unable to come up with anything else. At the back of my mind, I had an infinitesimal doubt that this moment would come, after all I was riding this wave for a few years banking on the fact that Sir had a soft corner for me. But the fact that everyone voted me out felt like a dagger into my chest.

I sighed and he leaned back against the couch, massaging his forehead.

"It happens, child. The world is a rat race. Just keep giving your best."

Of course! Parting last words! 

I tried to smile up at him, at last succeeding to give him such artificial one that his gaze turned piteous.

Who wants sympathy now?

"I'll just clear my things from the studio then..."

"You can stay for this one class if you want to..."

After knowing that all those sneaky snakes literally went behind my back and voted me to be out of the band? Another realisation dawned on me as I stalked into the studio, there was no way Sir would take this initiative himself, especially concerning me. He was definitely approached by the members before he took their vote. He was purposely looking like the bad guy now so that we all don't squabble among ourselves. I had no idea who the hell reported my performance but that was so underhand.

In the history of the Academy, I've never seen a band member sit in the common auditorium after being admitted into a band. They didn't even accidentally sit with us.

I anyways walked into the studio with an air of dignity, not speaking a word to anyone and ignoring Kabir's smile of greeting.

I felt hot, angry tears pool up at the corner of my eyes, threatening to leak if I as much as blinked. So I turned away from the other while packing my things, facing the wall and suppressing my stupid tears. I hated that I felt like crying when I was angry.

I wasn't a wimp!

I tried not to look too obviously distressed and leave the studio like I was exiting a house party but the way I rashly dropped a bound notebook that wasn't mine and the manner in which it smacked into the floor was not doing anything to support this hypothesis.

"Oy, where are you packing your things to?" Kabir asked as David had just walked in, observing me quietly. I already caught the pity in David's sorry gaze.

"You don't know?" I asked with a mawkish smile.

David sighed next to him as I lugged at my tote bag and stalked out.

I joined the general classes by strategically finding a place at the last bench of the farthest row that was partially concealed by a pillar.

My old batch of musicians still caught me and waved before laughing and turning away.

I ignored a slightly flustered flip in my stomach and concentrated on the instructor on the podium. Every week, all musicians had a general skill improv as the first session which was the most boring of them all. A boy next to me thumbed his tabla passionately enough for me to go deaf.

"First, relax your breathing, close your eyes and feel..." she was saying and I noticed Kabir and David behind the glass, dissecting this event with their elaborate gestures.

They were great actors. If they were planning to justify this to me, they weren't getting anywhere. I wasn't a fool.

And just yesterday, I was with Kabir and he didn't have the decency to give me a heads-up.

I wasn't delusional. I wasn't the best musician and I knew that. My instrument is hardly in the circle of my embrace back home. The excitement I had when sir was announcing the sparkling quintet from our batch had died down long back. I wasn't as passionate about music as my bandmates and I realised that. I wasn't continually reinventing my styles and standards. I would only do what the notes dictate me to.

Only when there are performances coming up, I put in some effort just to avoid major embarrassment on the stage.

But to know that I wasn't even good enough second the lead dampened my self-assurance.

The general instructor dispersed us a few minutes after an annoying motivational speech and I had to break off from the daydreaming and lug back with the others.

One of the guys had already pulled his hoodie over his head, ready for the nap.He noticed me a moment later and grinned, " Threw you out, eh? That bekhaar?"

For a moment, I decided to ignore him but then gave him a level look, " At least I was good enough to be a member once in my life unlike--"

His friend guffawed behind him and he raised his eyebrows. He was calling out to back answer me and regain stature among his friends which I ignored.

Irritating.

I noisily dragged a plastic chair away from these smirking morons and towards the air conditioner vent. Nobody sat there because it was freezing. But right now I could tolerate a blizzard than commit a murder or two if someone else spoke to me.

Without a second thought, Saloni got up from her place, holding the stem of her guitar in one hand and lugging her couch with the other.

Soon, sheets explaining Scales and Appregios were being circulated among us and we settled down. Saloni clipped my notes on the pedestal for me and then flipped her instrument over to connect the tuner.

Saloni wasn't being sympathetic and surprisingly wasn't even chattering away like she usually did.

She only shared her glittery mauve sipper bottle and I accepted it humbly even though I had my own. I noticed that she always shared her water when people were either crying/losing their mind around her because that was her way of extending her comfort.

Why discourage good habits.

It didn't take me more than ten minutes to recover since people started minding their own business after an unresponsive session of poking me.  Saloni found a random restaurant's flyer in her bag and I was meticulously folding it over to craft a successful rocket for her. I was good with origami rockets and they looked fancy as well.

The rest of the class was spent in companionable silence.

While we were packing after class, I noticed a tall figure in the corridor and I rolled my eyes. If I let a boy get away with this by sweet-talking, there wouldn't be a bigger fool than me.

I heard him calling out my name but I kept my brisk pace consistent.

But I should've known better, just a few steps later, he tugged at my ponytail.

I winced even though it didn't really hurt and his wrist fell back to his side.

"What, you're not talking?"

"There's nothing to talk about really, you all have already spoken more than enough," I mumbled.

"You're a fool if you're making your own assumptions," he said without preamble.

"That's what I am. A fool," I agreed emptily and his expression flickered.

Everyone probably knew that I was an easy person to kick out in such an unprofessional way because I don't like confrontation. Just like I'd said absolutely nothing now or asked any of them for any justification.

I left him behind only to see Dave coming right at me.

"God, leave me alone!"

He blinked, "What did I do? I wasn't even here last week! I have no idea!"

"Great, great! Let's honour you with a garland for your exceptional achievement," I mumbled sardonically.

He was silent for a moment and then broke into a chuckle.

"I've never seen you this pissed before."

"I'm not pissed."

"Right, right...Chal bey," he ruffled my hair, "Let's just drop you home."

But my mother doesn't like young boys driv--

Oh, whatever man.

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