I had heard from Naira a couple of days earlier that Sanjana's birthday was around the corner. I already knew the month—September—from Sanjana herself, but I had no idea about the exact date.
Even when I woke up that morning, it was on my mind, but I didn't feel the need to wish her right away. It felt a bit odd—wishing someone at 4 a.m. who usually woke up around 11 didn't seem like the best idea.
It was only hours later that I finally sent her a birthday text, while standing at the bus stop.
Namaste
Wish you a very happy birthday (emojis)
When I walked into the class. I noticed Naira and Rushika. Sanjana was there too, dressed in a black outfit. Without wishing her in person, I sat down with Karan and focused on the last over of the highlights.
We had to sit in a one-student-per-bench arrangement for the organic chemistry weekly test, but it didn't concern me much. I had already decided to leave organic chemistry for the January attempt, which was less than five months away.
I quickly went and sat behind Naira, about to take out my pen and water bottle from my bag. She didn't have a pen, so I quietly handed her my black one—feeling a quiet sense of happiness at being able to give her something, however small.
Just as I picked up my bag to keep it in the front, Naira asked me to take hers as well. I took it, a little too willingly with a wide smile, and had barely taken a couple of steps when Rushika handed me her bag too.
I took it without hesitation, trying to maintain the same smile I had just given Naira.
And then, of course—one more.
"Tanish… my bag too." It was Sanjana—the birthday girl.
"Happy Birthdayy!" I said, taking her bag as well.
She had a smile I had then become familiar with. Over the past few days, I had overheard bits of conversations and gossip from the group sitting behind me—Sanjana, Naira, Arjun, Shaurya, and a few others I wasn't entirely sure about. Sanjana, in particular, had seemed a little off lately. It was one of those rare times I had seen her sitting quietly, head down.
But at that moment, her mood seemed lighter. She thanked me with the same smile she had handed me her bag with—even though my hands were already full, carrying everything to the front of the class.
I quickly marked whatever I could on my OMR sheet, not paying too much attention to precision. Before the time was up, I returned my bag to the third bench, right in front of Sanjana—I had to secure that spot for myself, thankfully, since she had already saved the fourth bench for herself and Naira.
Taking my phone out of my bag, I noticed a reply from Sanjana.
thank you (a pink jumping heart emoji)
The math lecture was uneventful, which was unexpected. I thought that Sajit Sir might comment on Sanjana's civil dress since she was her favourite student, as I had heard from others, but he didn't.
During the break, we boys sat together to eat—except me, who usually preferred standing with the group while eating. Meanwhile, Sanjana and Naira had gone somewhere else. Even Ramesh could not be seen anywhere.
When everyone returned, I noticed something in their hands—rakhis. Both of them called Shaurya over, and right there, in front of me and Ramesh, they tied rakhis on his wrist.
The trio of Sanjana, Naira, and Shaurya had a charm of its own. There was something effortlessly lively about them—Sanjana's quick wit, Naira's constant chatter, and Shaurya's playful humour blending together in the most natural way. He would tease them endlessly, hide Naira's bottle, or casually pick up Sanjana's pouch just to annoy her. And yet, beneath all that mischief, there was a warmth in their bond that was hard to miss.
Even while tying the rakhi, their light-heartedness remained. Naira tied hers neatly on the first attempt, smiling as she reminded him that he was supposed to protect them, not trouble them. Sanjana, on the other hand, struggled with the knot, even attempting it like a shoelace. When I instinctively reached out to help, she stopped me, insisting that she would manage it on her own.
As she finally tied it after a few unsuccessful attempts, a small voice inside me questioned,
"Don't you want to have a rakhi tied by Sanjana too?"
I found myself thinking that it would have been really nice if she had tied one for me as well.
I had always viewed Sanjana as a senior figure, both in terms of her appearance and her demeanour.
There was a certain maturity in the way she spoke, a calmness that made her stand out without trying. It was this quiet difference in her that I couldn't help but notice.
Talking to her never felt casual—it felt… steady, almost like speaking to someone older. In many ways, she reminded me of Nidhi from my school, evoking memories of that comforting bond.
As they were done chatting, Ramesh joked that Sanjana should have tied a rakhi to every guy in the class.
She smiled and said, "Aree, my dad suggested the same thing."
I hadn't realised she had brought rakhi for Shaurya. I hesitated to voice my own wish to have her tie one for me. I didn't want it to come across as odd, a boy asking directly for a rakhi from a girl
So I let the thought stay where it was—unspoken, quiet, and mine alone.
As the day came to an end, I considered wishing Sanjana a happy birthday once more. However, she was engaged in conversation with someone and I didn't want to bother her, so I decided not to interrupt.
* * * * * * * *
It was the last week of September, and in Shashank Sir's game, our situation was dire. We had managed to win the first round, but things took a turn for the worse in the second round, which we ended up losing.
Even in Round 3, we were trailing by six points, and the pressure was mounting.
I was particularly tense, feeling the weight of potentially losing my second consecutive game. The fear of defeat was intense, and I could sense the anxiety among my team members.
"You should message yourself as well, saying 'Maamu, homework karke aaya kar'," Naira ne mujhe dekhte hi tease kiya, as she seldom got a chance to do so.
I had texted everyone about the homework two days before the lecture, whereas I usually sent such messages the evening before. I didn't want any penalties or deductions for incomplete work.
While texting Naira, I used the word maamu—something I had first said just to get her attention. From that point on, it somehow just stuck, and she became maamu for me.
All the team members arrived one by one, and Sanjana, surprisingly, jise maine phir pichli shaam kuch suna diya tha ki hw kiya its good but lecture me aana bhi zaruri hai, showed up for the lecture about ten minutes before it started.
Seeing her at the 8 AM lecture was quite a shock. But I didn't really care—what mattered was that she was there. She was an asset to the team.
"Who schedules a lecture at 8 in the morning???" Sanjana could well be seen complaining to Naira, her eyes swollen.
As soon as Sir arrived, the game continued. Our team was under immense pressure as we had already accumulated two incorrect answers, making it critical to perform well in the remaining time. The situation was tense, but fortune seemed to favour us when we scored a couple of points, alleviating some of the pressure.
When the time came for the homework round, the tension in the room was palpable. Sanjana and Naira were called up first to have their homework checked. It was a small but significant moment of validation for me, seeing my prediction come true. The focus then shifted to how well their homework was done, adding to the suspense of whether our team would manage to come out on top despite the earlier mistakes.
When Neil was called up to present his homework, we lost two more points because he hadn't completed it. This was a critical blow, especially considering the pressure we were already under.
But suddenly out of nowhere, Amit, their captain, let out a jubilant cheer.
"Now the score is 6-0!"
I didn't say a word, just kept my emotions to myself. The scoreboard should have been a 10-0, indicating that their team should have led by ten points, but Amit had forgotten the exact tally. He only counted his team's six points, which turned out to be a bonus for us.
This oversight provided us with an unexpected advantage, lifting our spirits and giving us renewed hope in the game.
My sixth sense gave another correct prediction when I quickly grabbed a boy and asked him to present his homework for checking. When it turned out that he hadn't completed it, we gained two more points. But the toughest part of the round came when our team had one final chance to check the opponent's homework.
I was determined to avoid any risks; I didn't want to choose someone whose homework was complete since it would waste our chance.
Standing in the middle of my row, I was torn between conflicting calls.
On one side, students at the back were urging me to pick Dikshant. On the other side, Sanjana and Naira, sitting at the front, repeatedly insisted that I check Rushika's homework.
Meanwhile, my own focus was on Achintya, whose demeanour made it difficult to tell whether he had completed his homework or not.
"Tanish, pick Rushika.", Naira urged me.
"Tanish Bhai, Dikshant ko uthao," Piyush and Karan shared their opinions as well.
"Tanish, Rushika!" Naira repeated, her voice standing out clearly among all the noise.
The conflicting calls echoed in my mind. Ignoring the others, I decided to focus on Achintya and asked him to show the homework. My choice proved to be the right one as I prioritised my own judgment, and it turned out to be a successful decision.
He had not completed the homework, and thus the final score was tied at 0-0. Thanks to Amit, who had forgotten the actual score. I was also thankful to God because I believed it was mainly luck that got us to an equal score between the two teams.
As I returned to my seat after the lecture, Naira remarked that even Rushika had not completed the homework. I justified my decision, explaining that I didn't want to take any risks and had to choose Achintya. Besides, by then, we had already secured two points, so it hardly mattered.
"And by the way, I didn't understand another thing,"
I said as I leaned toward the two girls, gesturing for them to come closer. I whispered to them,
"The score was 10-0; how did it turn into 6-0?"
"Yeah, we were wondering about that too," Naira replied.
While explaining the same thing about how Amit forgot the scores, Sanjana remarked to Naira that I sounded exactly like Prashant. I caught that and quickly objected, that I didn't like being compared to Prashant in any sense.
"Aur tab maine socha ki bhai merko bhi IIT jaana hai.", Sanjana said, reflecting on her own ambitions. It had been months since I sat in front of Sanjana and Naira, overhearing their conversations and gossip. This time, Sanjana had expressed it with renewed enthusiasm.
"If you don't attend classes, how will you complete your syllabus? And if your syllabus isn't complete, how will you crack the examination?" I asked her.
Sanjana cleverly raised her eyebrows, "How did you know my syllabus isn't complete?"
"Because you regularly miss classes."
"So?"
"Well," I realised, turning back to the front. At that time, I didn't really understand the importance of studying on your own at home. I had always assumed that Sanjana wasn't very serious about JEE, which is why she missed classes so often. But from the way she spoke, it felt like she was actually covering things on her own.
As I was pondering over our conversation, Sunny Sir walked in, shifting the focus of our discussion. His presence signalled the start of the next session. While everyone else stood up as he entered, I remained seated, as I rarely stood up for any teacher's arrival.
"Uth na re… uth," Sanjana said, a hint of amusement in her voice. It was her turn to tease me. She laughed softly and gave my shoulder a light push, nudging me to get up and join the others.
By then, everyone was back from the break and the lecture had begun. In between, I could hear bits of gossip about the upcoming Ganesh Chaturthi celebration.The excitement was clearly visible on the faces of the two girls behind me, while for me, it felt like just another celebration—one that would come and pass like any other.
* * * * * * * *
Saturday, 23rd September 2023
The Thought of a Picture Ruined by Tears
Time passed so quickly that it felt like last year's Ganesh Chaturthi had just ended before the next year's celebrations arrived. Every kurta I owned had already been worn at least once during the festival.
For a moment, I hesitated before picking my white one. I wasn't sure if it would look odd on me, yet I decided to wear it anyway before leaving for the only mathematics lecture scheduled before the celebration.
When I entered the classroom, the first thing I noticed was Naira.
She was wearing a blue saree — a bright shade that suited her perfectly. The heels made her walk a little more carefully than usual, each step slow and measured. Something about the way she carried herself that day made her look different, almost graceful in a way I had never noticed before.
I couldn't help but watch for a moment, how she slowly walked in the classroom.
Soon Naira took her usual seat on the bench behind me. As she settled there, a strange memory surfaced in my mind — the awkward exchange of looks we had shared during the previous year's celebration. We had stared at each other with widened eyes, neither of us quite knowing what to make of the moment—while I quietly regretted that our first encounter had happened that way.
Thinking about it then, it felt almost strange how much things had quietly changed since then.
Looking at her that day, two simple thoughts crossed my mind. Simple to think—but not so easy to act on.
The first was to compliment her. She was so beautiful—there was no denying that. But I hesitated. We still weren't that close, even though we had shared countless conversations and small moments we would laugh about.
And if the first thought made my heart race, the second one almost threw me off completely.
Should I ask her for a picture today?
Would she mind?
Would it make things awkward?
Come on, Tanish… it's Naira. She's chill.
But still… would a picture be too much?
The thoughts kept coming one after the other. The saree, the way she carried herself—everything about that moment made her appear effortlessly beautiful.
"Tanish…?"
Coming out of my thoughts, I turned to Naira, who had said my name so slowly, as if she was still deciding what exactly she wanted to ask.
Instead of speaking immediately, she unlocked her phone and opened WhatsApp.
"Ek minute," she murmured while scrolling, as if searching for something.
Before she could find it, I told her that I had deleted what she was looking for.
She looked up.
I knew what she had been finding — the WhatApp status I had uploaded that morning.
It was a paragraph mentioning the four girls of B1 from the draft I had been writing about our eleventh-grade days.
I had started posting them only after she had once said that she had saved my number, so I too saved hers — and even Sanjana's, which I had awkwardly saved as Sanjana 3, since there were already two Sanjanas in my contacts.
I usually deleted my status once Naira had seen it—mostly to get her attention, and maybe, someday, to make her read my book.
The very first excerpt I posted on my status had definitely caught her attention—I even got a reply from her, appreciating my writing. I further told her about my book, though it wasn't a book then.. But after that, no matter how many paragraphs I posted, none of them seemed to reach her in the same way.
Until one finally did.
"Achaa… that paragraph?" I said.
Naira nodded with a smile.
"And you want to know about those four girls who always stayed together?"
Another quick nod from her, this time with a curious smile getting wider.
"It's about you all," I told her. "Sanjana, Lizz, Rushika… and you."
Naira glanced down at her phone again and smiled, showing her teeth.
Come on Naira! Don't just smile. Say something!
She stared at her phone for a few seconds, and then finally spoke,
"That's exactly how it is. We're always together."
"Wait, there's more," I said, a little too happy and excited that she was actually connecting with my writing. I opened the draft on my phone and scrolled until I found the section titled My First Encounter with Naira.
"You're in the book," I told her, still a mix of excited and nervous as I handed her my phone.
She looked at the screen, and I kept my eyes on her face as she read a few lines—before bursting into laughter. For a moment, I waited, hoping she'd read a little more carefully or ask something about it. I had expected curiosity, but instead, she just laughed. At least it was a relief that Naira didn't get offended by it.
I scrolled through my drafts again and showed her another excerpt, this one about my first encounters with Lizz. She did glance at it, but by then the classroom had grown too crowded—maybe that was why she looked away from my phone and shifted her attention to what was happening around her.
The lecture had just begun when Sanjana quietly walked between the two rows and took the seat beside Naira. The same girl who had worn a lehenga the previous year was then dressed in a green saree. A delicate nose ring completed her traditional look, instantly reminding me of the first time we had met during the celebrations a year ago.
Sunny sir taught for the first twenty minutes before the atmosphere in the classroom slowly began to change. Everyone was in a playful mood, dressed in colourful clothes. It was also Paresh's birthday, and in Sunny sir's lecture, there was a small tradition—the birthday person would be sent outside for five minutes while the class wrote Happy Birthday on the whiteboard.
Marigold garlands had been hung outside the classroom doors for the occasion. Keeping that in mind, as soon as Paresh stepped out, I jokingly said,
"Let's put one of those garlands on him."
Sanjana too glanced at the two garlands outside and asked,
"But what about the second one?"
"We'll put that one on him too," I replied instantly.
She burst into laughter and then added that the second one could be put on Mayanti instead—her so-called best friend. In reply, I almost said it could fit Sanjana too, since she was Paresh's previous crush, but I held back. Not sure how Sanjana would react, I couldn't dare to tease her about it.
From birthday wishes, the class slowly shifted into performances. Tejas recited a few shayaris from his diary—everyone especially loved the last one, which received a lot of praise, but I unfortunately missed it.
And then finally, at the class's request, I was called up. I got up and walked to the front with confidence, ready to speak. As I stepped onto the stage, Sunny sir said, "Tanish bhai, try not to get too emotional."
It was probably the first time I realised that I was seen that way. But even then, I didn't pay much attention to it.
Usually, I always entertained everyone by mimicking the faculty. However, seeing the same act repeatedly, it seemed Sunny Sir had grown tired of it. He asked me if I could do something different this time.
"Kuch shayari wagera??..." he asked. It appeared that he wasn't done with Tejas's poems and wanted me to try my hand at it as well.
I had always been passionate about writing, but I was somewhat weak in composing poems or shayaris, as I struggled with creating a rhyming scheme. Three years ago, when I was working on my first book, I had written a few shayaris… so I thought I'd share those.
Sir asked me to sit on the chair, but I refused and sat on the stage instead. With full confidence and voice modulation in front of the class, I recited :
Agar zamaane ke liye
Wo zara si kam khoobsurat hoti
Toh bhi hamare liye
Wo bohot khoobsurat hoti."
"Wo neend hi kya?
Jo poori raat na aaye?
Kasoor hai tumhare chehre ka
Jo baar baar saamne aaye.
It was hard to gauge from the class's reactions whether they liked it or not. Tejas asked if my love story had a tragic end, while on the other hand, Ramesh and Achintya were whispering something about me to Sir, showing them screenshots of my Instagram stories, which Achintya had secretly taken.
My special performance came when Sir asked me to walk from here to there in a wavy manner, while Sammy and Shubh sang "Aami Je Tomar" as background music. This added a unique touch to the moment and made it stand out.
We then moved on to the game of Dumb Charades, where we were divided into two teams. The game was a blast, with neither team willing to give up easily. Paresh, who was on my team, suggested that I call Sanjana from the other team. Mayanti teased him, saying that he wanted to see Sanjana perform. Later, both Naira and Sanjana went outside the classroom, and the game went on till the lecture was done.
After the celebration, students who didn't want to stay for the further celebrations went home. I was sitting on the sofa, preparing for the next day's chemistry board-level test.
"Tanish... are you doing something?"
Naira's voice broke my concentration. She asked if I could take some pictures of her. Even with all the celebration and decorations around, I had been completely focused on my studies—but I still kept my book and highlighter aside and took her phone.
She started posing, and I clicked from different angles.
"Wait… one more," she said, slightly turning to the side.
Then came that side pose—tucking her hair with her hand.
Then another.
And another.
I kept clicking—trying top angles, lower angles, adjusting for light—making sure every picture came out right. I knew I was paying far more attention than I usually did while taking photos. It reminded me of how my father used to click pictures of my mother during family functions—patiently adjusting everything until it felt perfect.
Looking back, I do realise there was a quiet sense of relief in me that Shaurya was not there that day. So I was the one Naira had asked. Had he been, Naira would probably have asked him instead. Even Sanjana, who had been around earlier, wasn't there at that moment—almost as if I had been chosen for it.
When Sanjana eventually returned, I clicked a few pictures of the two of them together. No matter how much I adjusted the angles or stepped back, both of them felt they looked a little plump in the photos.
"Sach chhupaye nahi chhupta ji," I teased, laughing.
"Shut up," Sanjana replied immediately—with a small laugh that showed she wasn't really offended.
After clicking their pictures, I stepped out in the rain to eat something. When I returned, the classroom had once again turned lively. Ramesh was scribbling something on the whiteboard, Tejas was worried about a video of his shayari that Sir had shared on the WhatsApp group, and he heard if his mom saw it. So, Sanjana was busy suggesting excuses to help him escape the embarrassment.
Soon, on the advice of Arjun, another game began, and the class split into two teams again. This time, I was on the girls' side with Sanjana, Naira, and Rushika. The game was somewhat the opposite of Dumb Charades—the player had to draw the word, but couldn't use any gestures.
I went first, and unfortunately, no one on my team could guess what I was drawing. I wasn't sure if my drawing was that bad or if they just couldn't figure it out. Sanjana kept throwing out random guesses every second, while Naira stayed mostly quiet.
The game continued for a while, but gradually, everyone began to drift away from it. The girls got busy taking their own pictures, and the game soon turned into a small internal competition between Ramesh, Arjun, and Sammy.
Everyone seemed to have naturally gathered into their own small groups. I had returned to my bench, trying to focus, with the highlighter in my hand.
For a moment, I simply stood there watching everyone.
It felt like everyone had someone beside them.
I, on the other hand, suddenly felt strangely out of place. No one was excluding me. Everyone had always been kind to me. Yet, sitting there and watching them laugh within their little groups, a quiet sense of loneliness crept in.
Arjun even came up to me, probably noticing my lowered head. He nudged me and, through his eyes, gestured for me to join in. But I didn't feel like it. I refused, just as quietly, with a slight shake of my head.
He tried again, insisting without words that I should come along—but I turned it down once more.
I could hear the laughter of those girls. For a brief moment, I even thought of asking Naira if we could take a picture together. It had been something I had been waiting for since the beginning of the lecture. But before that thought could turn into action, something inside me had already begun to collapse.
The feeling of loneliness grew heavier the longer I sat there thinking about it. Soon, my eyes filled with tears, and before I realised it, I was crying openly. Ramesh was the first to notice. He asked me what was wrong—but I didn't have an answer myself. I just picked up my bag and was about to walk out when he stopped me.
He and Meera mam kept asking if someone had said something to me, but I avoided their questions.
I could see that my distress was affecting everyone's mood, which was the last thing I wanted. Abhay sir eventually took me aside and asked if something was wrong—at home, with studies, or anything else.
As we walked out of the academy, he stopped near Sanjana, Naira, and Rushika.
"Dekho, tum log isse baat nahi kar rahe, ye ro raha hai—that no girl is talking to him," sir joked.
Hearing that, I felt extremely embarrassed. I didn't want to meet anyone's eyes—especially Naira's or Sanjana's. I just closed my eyes and turned my face away. One of them even asked what had happened, but sir kept the tone light with that remark.
He then asked me to wash my face and come back. When I went to the washroom and looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes were completely red. I just washed my face, wiped it, and stepped out.
When I finally calmed down and returned, Sameer sir came and spoke to me. He began with a couple of different questions.
And then, as if his next question hit the bullseye.
"Lonely feel kar raha hai?"
He had somehow identified the exact issue. I admitted that I did feel alone, even though no one had ignored me, neither in the classroom nor throughout the day.
Sameer sir tried to comfort me. He reminded me that phases like this come and go, and that it was important to focus on the positives instead of letting such thoughts take over. He said it was just a moment, not something that would define everything.
Keeping his words in mind, and feeling a little better, I wasn't really interested in the celebrations anymore. I picked up my bag and was about to head home when I ran into Naira again.
She stopped me and asked what had happened.
I don't quite remember if I gave her a proper answer.
"Are you leaving already?" Sanjana asked from behind her.
"Why, what happened?" I replied instinctively.
"We're going out for dinner," Sanjana said.
"No, you all go ahead and enjoy," I said quietly.
"What happened to you, Tanish?" Rushika asked, clearly concerned.
"But seriously… what happened to you?" Naira asked again.
"Chal na.," Sanjana insisted.
"Are nahi," I declined gently.
At that point, I felt even their company was unlikely to fill the strange emptiness I was feeling inside.
"Tu theek hai?" Sanjana asked again.
I nodded, but my eyes were still fixed on Naira.
"Are you okay?" Sanjana asked the second time.
But I was still looking at Naira.
"Tu pakka theek hai ??" she asked once more.
And my eyes were still on Naira.
In my mind, one thought kept repeating itself.
You look so stunning today.
I really wanted a picture with you.
But my tears ruined everything.
I kept those words with me and simply told them I was fine, said goodbye, and walked away.
Amid countless smiles, I wept alone,
While joy surrounded me, my sorrow had grown.
Naira's charm shone brightly,
Her beauty deserved a memory to stay,
But my tears quietly washed it away.