Yash Soni

The rickshaw wala asked if he could onboard another passenger. Trampling on my hesitant approval, he came sat next to me. Cosied up on a cycle rickshaw as it peddled forward. I think there are no bigger signs for a feeling as ones when we are tentative – the fidgeting, the clamminess, the unpurposeful whistling, the show of looking the other way. – there’s just so much, given away so easily. And I am sure I did too. For I was excessively aware that I was sitting next to an eunuch but more so because of what he asked next. Darr lag rha hai? (Are you scared?) I nodded away – no – managing a nervous half-smile and a plastered silence. But our conversation escalated when he admitted his next sentence – hum bhi toh insaan he hain (We too are humans). I shot a glance at him, at his face. The 14-year old me didn’t know any better. But when I retrospect today, I wonder what would have hurt more – to have someone look at you with un-bargaining denial or with sympathetic acceptance...

What do you do when your best friend is crying? There are a few persons whom you never wish to see with tears in their eyes. I attended college as usual. It was a regular Saturday afternoon; the cultural activities were in full swing. More deafening cheers accompanied loud music from the auditorium. I kept calling her from half an hour; she did not answer. She was nowhere to be seen too. I inquired few of our mutual friends if they had seen her around. "She is always with you," said one. "Heard you guys fought," giggled another. "What rubbish ya! They're best friends, they wouldn't have fought," argued a third. I smiled and left the place, still searching. There she was sitting in a corner, engaged busily on her phone. This pissed me off. I walked up to her and said, "Answer your phone." She looked up; her eyes were teary and red. "You crying?" I asked in disbelief. "No," she said. Her voice was thick. "Is it beca...