"Dude, tera ye jo face hai na, ye idhar se idhar aa gaya hai,"
Naira laughed, dropping her bag on the bench behind me.
It had been almost a week since I'd been dealing with tonsillitis. The pain had reduced too, but the swelling—earlier limited to my cheeks—had spread across my face.
In those few days, I kept hoping that maybe Naira would text—ask how I was, how the pain had been. But nothing of that sort ever came.
And here she was in front of me, showing how I looked. I could not take my eyes off her as she moved her hand under her chin, depicting how the swelling had spread from my cheeks down to my chin. Every time I turned my head, I could feel it shift, almost like it was hanging.
Classroom 10's air conditioners had stopped working that day, and after a while, Sameer Sir shifted us to Classroom 5 in the adjacent branch.
During the break, as I passed Classroom 3, I glanced inside and noticed Sanjana sitting there with a book, with Naira beside her. It looked like she had skipped the lecture just to study. As I entered the class, she called out to me, with another doubt of hers regarding the BS college, who had asked all the students to share their details weight, height and blood group.
I ended up sitting on the bench next to Sanjana and Naira. They were discussing the grand garba.
"Tu bhi toh gaya tha na?" Naira asked me.
"Haan, tu bhi toh gaya tha wahan," Sanjana repeated after her.
I understood they must have spotted me in someone's snap or Instagram story. But when I asked them why they hadn't come, Naira explained that there were some people at the event whom both she and Sanjana didn't like, which was why they chose not to attend. I quickly realised they were referring to certain individuals who made them uneasy.
Of course! Naira's entire group had almost finalized their plans for a grand garba night, as I had heard, but they cancelled at the last moment for some reason. As for me, I couldn't go earlier anyway since single entries weren't allowed at the venue—so I ended up going later with Arjun and Mayanti.
When we got there, Rushika and even Lizz were already present. Everyone was in high spirits—especially Mayanti, who pointed out that only Naira and Sanjana were missing. It would've been even better if they had been there.
I too couldn't help but picture Naira too in a traditional attire, her smile bright in the festive lights.
Inside, we formed small circles that merged into a larger one. It was my first time playing Garba, and my coordination was terrible. I kept bumping into Sammy in front and Lizz behind. They tried showing me the steps, but I kept getting them wrong.
Every other turn, I'd glance around—half-hoping to see Naira somewhere in the crowd, laughing.
Back in the classroom, the conversation drifted until Sanjana suddenly looked around and said, "Yaha itna shor kyu hai?",
"I came here to study because it was peaceful here." Sanjana continued, her tone serious.
Sitting there, I wondered if she was hinting that I should leave. Feeling it was best to avoid any misunderstanding, I decided to get up. I had completely forgotten the reason I had come to that classroom in the first place. When I returned from the washroom, I noticed that Naira had already left.
During the math lecture, we received a circular on the AOS Academy official group about our upcoming trip. This time, we were being taken to Khopoli for two days and a night, on the ninth and tenth of November.
As soon as I read the message, I told everyone around me that I was definitely going on the trip. Last year, my father strongly urged me to go on the Imagica trip, but my mother didn't want me to go, so I had to refuse. But this time, there was nothing that could prevent me from going on the trip. My family had always been supportive of my trips, and they never put any restrictions on such plans.
However, my joy was abruptly interrupted by a sudden realization: "When are we leaving for Gwalior for the Diwali vacation?" I asked myself.
As I ran through our plans, it hit me — our departure was fixed for the ninth of November, the exact day of the trip.
As the realization sank in, my heart felt heavy with disappointment. The thought of missing out on that year's picnic, something I had been looking forward to, was disheartening. The excitement of the trip was overshadowed by the frustration of having to choose between two important events.
But the disappointment was compounded by the fact that choosing between the two wasn't an option for me. Our train tickets for the Diwali trip had already been booked. Cancelling and rebooking them would be incredibly difficult, especially given the festival season and the high demand for tickets.
I wrote a note on a piece of paper and passed it to Piyush explaining how I would be missing the trip due to the conflicting dates. Reading it, he burst into loud laughter, probably on my unfortunate luck, as if the situation itself was amusing, which only added to my feeling of frustration, making the whole situation feel even more ironic.
The next day was Naira's birthday, which was a bittersweet moment for me. I was still troubled by the conflict with the trip, and it felt like yet another example of how everything seemed to converge on the same day. With Dussehra being a public holiday, I wouldn't be able to see Naira in person to wish her on her special day, and maybe I would have to settle with wishing her on WhatsApp.
After class, I happened to see Naira downstairs and decided to wish her a happy birthday right there. She was rummaging through her bag when I approached and said, "Happy birthday in advance."
She turned around, looked at me, and said something in response that I honestly couldn't recall. All I remember is that it was something amusing, as her mischievous laughter still lingers in my memory.
* * * * * * * *
[21:52]
Sanjana 3: are you wearing black tomorrow?
I received a text from Sanjana about the Halloween day celebration planned by the academy.
I remembered how Sanjana had once mentioned her love for dressing up and participating in such events, so it was clear that she would definitely attend the Halloween celebration.
Her text that night seemed fitting, as Batch 1 was generally not very interested in such events. Given that, there was a chance that not everyone would come in a black outfit, it made Sanjana's question even more relevant.
I, on the other hand, had no plans for a black outfit and had even forgotten about the celebration. With Batch 1's attendance having dropped significantly after the segregation of Apex batch students, there was little enthusiasm for the event. The Bollywood Day, a few months earlier, had also seen a sparse turnout.
However, Sanjana's text rekindled my interest. I found a black shirt I already had, and her message motivated me to get into the spirit of the celebration.
"Yaar black toh hai. But it's not scary at all", I texted her, assuming we had to come dressed as ghosts.
"We're just supposed to wear black— who would come dressed up like ghosts or anything.", she replied.
I didn't know much about Halloween except that it was scary. In fact, I hadn't even read the entire message .
Her stream of questions had been constant—from the start of October right up to the last day. Her next question was whether I knew who all would be wearing black.
The day before Bollywood Day too, Sanjana had asked me the same thing. Taking her suggestion seriously, I said I'd check with everyone to see who was planning to wear black the next day.
I began messaging everyone with a single question: Who was planning to wear a black outfit?
After about half an hour, I had gathered all their responses. I compiled the names into a list and sent it over to Sanjana. Meanwhile, this discussion had already begun to spark a quiet buzz within our unofficial group. Kavya, Shaurya, Karan, Prashant, and I were all set to come dressed in black. Lizz, however, was still unsure if she would come for the lectures.
As I was putting my phone down, satisfied with the coordination for the next day, Maa walked in and suggested I move to the hall to study. Perhaps she even noticed my WhatsApp activity, as she scolded me, and I was soon subjected to the same old reprimands that never failed to dampen my mood.
Frustrated, I moved to the hall, where I continued to grapple with the same irritation that had taken hold of me. Just then, I noticed a message count badge from WhatsApp. Opening it, I saw it was Sanjana:
'thank you so much, problem solver."
That brought a quick unexpected smile to my face, thanks to her playful tone and those last two words of the text, which, laced with her unique, mischievous flair, made Sanjana truly one of a kind.
Back then, I didn't realise it, but looking back, it felt like…
It was just the very first of the many instances,
That
"Coincidentally, Sanjana always had something to say,
Which brought a smile to my face,
Every time I was frustrated with something".
The next day, I put on my black shirt and denim, ready to go to the coaching. In my rush, I somehow managed to forget that the class was at twelve in the afternoon. Realising my mistake, I was left with an entire hour to kill. The minutes dragged on slowly, but then Ramesh arrived in a black T-shirt, and with him, the time seemed to pass much more easily.
As the class time drew closer, the door swung open, and in walked Naira. She was dressed in a black top, layered with a black jacket or shrug, her hair flowing freely. And then, there was that smile of hers—the one that could light up a moment.
In that instant, the entire room seemed to glow just a little brighter.
"Chalo, ye bhi aa gayi," I thought to myself, as if her arrival somehow completed the scene.
But if Naira's arrival had lit up the class, then it wouldn't be wrong to say that Sanjana J's entrance completely changed the atmosphere. She hadn't come to the organic chemistry lecture, choosing to come for the second lecture.
The same girl who, the night before, seemed so excited about wearing a black outfit for the Halloween event, then walked into the class after the lecture had ended.
She appeared taller, thanks to the heels she was wearing. Her jet-black hair framed her outfit—black, of course—but it was difficult for me to describe exactly what she wore.
However, when Shaurya commented that she looked just like the nun from The Nun movie, a similar image flashed in my mind. I couldn't help but agree, nodding that Sanjana really did resemble the nun.
She didn't say a word. Quietly, she went and sat beside Naira, remaining silent for the rest of the lecture. We had our usual fun during Sajit Sir's class, laughing and joking around, but every time I turned to glance at the back, I could see Sanjana's eyes never left her notebook. Not a single smile crossed her face.
I felt a strong urge to ask her what was wrong, but then, a lingering thought held me back: Why would she share her pain or sorrow with me, anyway?
All of us guys took a photo with Sir in our black outfits, marking the end of the lecture. But even as we left the academy, I hadn't seen a single smile cross Sanjana's face.
Pausing midway on the stairs, I pulled out my phone to check the bus timings. The screen showed the next bus wouldn't arrive for another half hour, though the app often misled me with its timings.
Should I head to the bus stop now and risk waiting in the heat, or stay here a little longer, enjoying the comfort of the AC before stepping out into the sticky afternoon?
I stood there thinking, staring at the corridor ahead, when—
"Tuh-nish."
Hearing the distinct way my name was said, I turned around.
Naira was on the opposite staircase, walking down slowly. She paused when she reached the landing across from me. There was a small, curious smile on her face as she asked,
"Yaha akele kyu khada hai?"
Her curious eyes were on me. I was genuinely surprised to see her there. Her society's gate was closer to the other staircase—the one she always used. It felt unusual, almost intentional, that she had taken this route.
Just then, I remembered she had once told me she often used that staircase, which made her route a bit longer, since the regular one was too close to her place.
"Nothing… just lost in thought," I replied, honestly.
She gave a small nod—soft, understanding. The kind of nod that says I get it, even if nothing more is said. Then she continued descending the stairs.
For a moment, I wondered whether she thought I was upset. Maybe it was about what she had told me the day after I had broken down during the celebration last month —that she hated seeing people cry… that it had really bothered her to see me that way. That night, and even the day that followed, slipped by in that same wait—hoping she'd text, ask how I was doing.
"Bye," I said, snapping out of my thoughts as she reached the lower steps.
She turned slightly, waved, and replied with her usual lightness,
"Bye bye.".