Summer Girl-Part IV

Kabir

Silence greeted my confession. I was painfully aware of Paridhi sitting on the other side of the door. They years had been kind to Paridhi. The aloof, slightly haughty preteen had turned out to be surprisingly empathetic. In spite of his harsh monosyllabic reply to her frantic questions, he could still feel her sitting on the other side of the door awaiting an explanation.

Explanation. Did he have it in himself to put words to his thoughts? Thoughts that have been plaguing him for years now.

As far back as he could remember, he had been slightly envious of Paridhi. She has always seemed so self sufficient in her own little world. Even though Anushka, Paridhi and he spent the majority of their childhoods with each other, it had always been him and Anushka glued together and Paridhi lurking in the sidelines. One would have thought that that would have been a chip on his and Anushka's shoulders. After all, children often have the propensity to be cruel and exclusionary. And it was to a certain extent. However, it did not stop at that. He and Anushka, within their own little clique had been surprisingly unkind to Paridhi. He had always suspected that while his own feelings towards Paridhi had consistently been that of mild envy coupled with substantial fascination, Anushka had been outright jealous. Paridhi did not help her case either. Whenever the trio had spent time together, he and Anushka engrossed in some make believe world of their own, Paridhi had sat at a distance with her nose buried in a book eying them with mild contempt if not outright disdain.

In retrospect, he could see now that there was also a lot of childish longing that had suffused her features then. But he and Anushka had been blind to any such possibility then. 

And so it had happened that cheerful, garrulous, beautiful, popular Anushka ably assisted by a more than willing Kabir had made it her life's mission to be spiteful towards Paridhi. It was spite that was not easily discoverable, spite that was never at the forefront, spite that was doused in layers of sugary sweet pretension, spite that coloured all their interactions with Paridhi so much so that there came a point when even looking at Paridhi became a cause for discomfort for him.

Paridhi had always known the dynamics of the group and had mastered the art of making herself scarce while always being ostensibly present as a part of the group. It would have been much easier for her to completely dissociate herself from them in order to seek more accepting playmates, but, even then Paridhi had been as tenacious as she is now. For, you see, Paridhi was still sitting on the other side of the door waiting for him to speak.