c h a p t e r

01

quotidian

♔

m y r a

THE LEAVES CRUMBLED BENEATH MY FEET.

The cold air bit into my cheeks, tinting them red as I shoved my hands deep into the pocket of my coat. Winters in America were much harsher than back home in India.

I glanced at the huge clock that stood proudly at the intersection of our campus roads, reading eleven in the morning indicating that I was already late for class but today I didn't have it in me to rush for it.

The sheer will to live has so much as diminished from inside of me and no amount of parties, nicotine or alcohol had brought it out of its slump. I even took up sky diving once and contemplated on yanking myself off the edge without the parachute.

It would have been a mere accident.

But the disappointed face of my ma when I reach her scared me too much to follow through so I had taken a step back.  My papa and Valeria had been married for over two years now, until she had claimed to have grown tired of the Indian summers and wished to return to Spain.

My papa who was obviously and sickeningly in love with her, built her a lovely summer house in Benahavís where they had been living for months. They had invited, my sister and I for a house warming but thankfully my set of exams ended up as an excuse for me to skip through.

I still played the role of a diligent daughter as best as I could. Sending them gifts and small tokens that reminded them of my existence. After all he was the man my ma had once loved with all of her heart and soul.

Worst of all? Valeria was a sweetheart.

She wanted to be accepted by the both of us, whereas my sister was a brave woman who openly rejected her, I was a lowly coward who embraced her into our family with a smile. My heart had bled through the ceremony.

"Aren't you going to class?" The sweet voice of my friend rumbled from beside me as I glanced at the kohled eyes of Mirabelle. She was dressed in a black leather jacket, her hands stuffing a lighter back in her pocket.

Mirabelle was my roommate in the college dormitory. Her wanting a roommate from her native Spain, led to me, with my Spanish address, ending up in her room. But for some reason the unexpected rendezvous had made the bestest of situations, fostering a deep kind of connection. She was a person I dearly cared for in this place.

"Did you smoke again, Mirabelle?" I asked her, she joined me on the bench as we both skipped out on the morning classes and had nowhere else to be.

"I don't like being called Mirabelle." She snapped, reapplying her lipstick as she puckered her lips at me.

"And I don't like you smoking. You should take care of your health."

The hypocrisy was not lost on the both of us as she rolled her eyes at me and spread out her booted legs from underneath.

"Man, Mondays' suck." To which I nodded. Every day was the same though, regardless of the day of the week, month of year. I woke up without a purpose and zeal at that house, so when the opportunity to study at the states showed up I took it right away.

My ma had dreamt of becoming a big name on the fashion industry, probably as a model but with my lack of confidence, the closest I could come to was making clothes that she'd have looked beautiful in.

I was studying in Knightson University, one of the most esteemed and prestigious universities in the states. Their acceptance rate included the cream of the society or anybody with a trust fund to their name. Being in this college and working towards something she was passionate are about made me feel a little closer to her that way.

"No bodyguard for her royal highness?" She mocked, her eyes hovering over the bushes behind us before they settled on me. Her eyes were round like a doe, soft and adorable but her bite was equally harsh.

Mira had never let me down on the one time we had arrived in Valencia together and had been escorted by my papa's bodyguards to our home.

My father was royalty in India. He was a born king on his lands but the democratic country didn't really have that many kings left on their territory. However my dad had retained his properties and title, making him part of the social circle inadvertently.

"It was one time." I ruffled through my bag as my phone buzzed, "I'd rather choke on alcohol."

Being king, I was naturally a princess of the lands and a princess can't be caught dead smoking or drinking or much less partying around as the conservatism of our culture refused to be accepting of us like that.

My sister found those rules bullshit and left the moment she could, and never missed an opportunity to bury her royal blood into the mud. She could be found with tatters and a joint in her hand but her elegance was something she had inherited from ma and simply couldn't erase.

I huffed out a breath, the white puff forming incoherent words of dread that coursed within as I glanced at my phone. It was papa, with his usual good morning text.

I swiftly replied with an emoji that looked like it could suffice before throwing it back into my bag and continuing to stare into nothingness. The air around us warmed as the sun rose from behind a thick canopy of clouds.

"Hey!" A voice called and before I could look up to find its source, I found them nestled between the space of us, filling out the bench in every way possible.

"What are you both doing missing class?" Noah asked and then glanced over at me, through his thick lashes, "Scratch that, Mira is always cutting class but Myra?"

The look of shock marred his face as his eyes danced at the question in mirth, "Next time you tell me. We can go out and do something about it."

I managed to give him a small smile in return for this enthusiasm that was praiseworthy for a morning, of a Monday nonetheless. Mira had scooted away as if his touch burnt and popped a lollipop in her mouth, her obsession with them  worried me at times.

Noah was our classmate, or more specifically, Mira's best friend but we shared journalism together. In one of the parties that Mira had managed to drag me to, Noah had stumbled across me and I could tell he was interested, way more than he should have but I made sure to always draw the line between us.

He didn't deserve someone like me, a shell of nothingness that couldn't love him like he loved.

He loved openly, loudly and proudly.

His smile was infectious with a mop swoon-worthy brown locks on top of his head. Someone along the way would definitely pique his interest and he'd forget about me.

Like they always do.

•••

Mira had decided to take the rest of the day off which she had texted me while I sat for our English Literature class. We were reading Anna Karenina for the semester, our professor James, was an avid Leo Tolstoy fan and had wanted us cover the timeless classic.

In all honesty I was quite surprised to find myself actually enjoying Anna Karenina. She was a complex woman from Russia who was sophisticated and graceful. Until she wasn't, she let it all go for a man and struggled against the society who refused to accept such a woman.

Her character had so much depth, it had deeply resonated with me on a level I couldn't decipher. I found myself awake at night to actually read it. In a way, Anna Karenina had come as a

purpose to me.

I woke up every morning to read about her, after all it was a humongous book to cover and I was not a fast reader. Today was scheduled for literary analysis and students from across the room added their thoughts about the whole novel.

"I think what she did was commendable. She loved her man, and fought the society and decided to stay with him." A girl by the name of Clary pipped, she was petite and wore a yellow dress.

Another one spoke up, stating an opinion that was in complete contrast with Clary's. "Wasn't the victim in all this, her husband, Alexey?"

I agreed with him too. The whole thing was centred around Anna and her journey throughout time but even as a victim she had condoned her husband to a life of misery that he hadn't signed up for.

He had loved her like sea loved the moon, swaying to its shadows under the night sky in utter darkness. Depended upon him and him alone, refusing the advances of the sun and its warmth.

And that love costed him every time Anna left him for Vronksy and he awaited her return. It bled every time Anna moved on, bore his child and lived a life so bright that she was blinded at the shadow she had pushed her husband to.

I stared blankly at the white board at the front of the class as the world dissolved around me. The canvas painting itself white for my feelings to overcome and fill them for me.

The lump in my throat threatened to cut off my air as the memories of my ma resurfaced, her laugh, her smile and her little promises of togetherness plunging a knife into my heart.

The arrival of Valeria, her stay and her marriage with papa only twisted the sharp object further as my breathing became uneven.

Why couldn't I move on?

It had been two years since the marriage and five years since the death of ma, so why was I still right there, at her room while she slept peacefully on the armchair she had found in one of the alleys of Jaipur.

She had a peaceful sleeping face, her eyebrows were always relaxed and mouth slightly ajar like a child lulled to sleep by gentleness.

The bile in my stomach rose as the reminiscence memories of that day bore into my mind as I furiously fought it. My breathing becoming dangerously shallow.

No! I can't go there right now.

I practised what I had read up on the Internet and opened and closed my mouth like a fish, with no air in sight. I willed my lungs to take its first long breath and then another till the scene subsided from my mind and the grip on my heart loosened.

My eyes closed briefly.

Today was going to be a long day.