Having been always cocooned in the safe haven of the four walls of her room under the strict surveillant eyes of the second wife of her ailing father, Rakshanda was new to this pompous world. Living on her own terms, free, was like a dream come true.
She was excited on her new venture, her excitement delimited with the nervous smile that decorated her lips whenever she thanked a stranger who guided her on the routes of this new city she was now living in. Delhi was a city of the rich and the poor, the people separated by a thick forbidden line of class. The classification was limited to just roads -some posh, some sleek -wherein the rich lived in big bungalows and high skyscrapers on one side of the road, and the poor had their dwellings in small, shivering, houses that stuck to each other like couples reaching out to each other for comfort in cold, and otherwise. The city and its ways marvelled Rakshanda.
She could go out anywhere with people barely noticing what she’s worn. even if she is out in a pyjama, no matter how far away from her residence, nobody looked a second glance very unlike the people in Bananas, where she grew up, where people would pop their eyes out on every crossroad if she ever wore a pyjama out of her home, accusing eyes that say..’A girl in a pyjama! Has she no manners?’ How do pyjamas reveal manners? Rakshanda always wondered.
It had been a week since she shifted into this guest house in Delhi. Small as it was, it outshone her previous abode for the air it enclosed, the air that had the smell of freedom,costlier than the most costly thing Rakshanda ever owned. She lived alone in the two-seater room, the second bed, as per records, was reserved for some Aanya Verma, who apparently had not showed up yet, and so her bed was used by Rakshanda to pile up the dry clothes that she picked from the clothesline but never got a chance, or to be honest, never took the chance to fold them up and put them back in the cupboard. The weekend was just over with all the work that was piled up for the week.
“Cock-a-doodle-doo”, went the most deadly MMA, Monday-Morning-Alarm.
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