Alana Grace Cabral
“So students you see these types of myths prevailed in the City of Mesopotamia,” says our most pudgy stomach history teacher. God!! I hate him the most.
Mr Dherya was introduced to us as our new history teacher back in April. At first glance only I developed a hatred for him. But I knew that after the summer holidays I have to face him again.
This person is obnoxious like Voldemort with a weird fashion sense like professor Dolores Umbridge.
I hate him. Take him to hell Satan and feed him worms.
This is the last lecture. I wave my hand to Tanmay Garg and his bench partner Nakul Mann, both are my friends and their bench is placed parallel to my bench. They are aware of the fact, when I wave one of my hands, it means I am utterly bored. I glance at my watch and see 10 minutes are still left for the ringing of the bell.
I still miss our previous history teacher, Mrs Priyanka ma'am. She left our school after she got married. I mean Why? Why do many women have to leave their jobs after they get married? Orthodox society is still on the trending list in India. Even though I am still in contact with her but that sense of incompleteness is still there; these history lectures are boring without her. Recalling what she taught us in 9th grade is still susceptible.
Anyway. I am just waiting for the clock to strike at 1.30 pm.
Finally, after 10 minutes of extreme torture by this villain called Mr Dherya, my class of just 32 students get vacant in a minute. Everyone hates this Buffalo.
I, then, walk with Tanmay or Tammy, as sometimes we call him, towards our bus. My two beautiful best friends Anaira and Amaira, who are fraternal twins, meet us on our bus.
After a fun ride of 20 minutes, I reach my home. My heaven. My world. Mama and Papa are in their office but the caretaker of our house for the past 20 years is still working in our house. Aunt Mira. She is like a grandma to me. As I enter my house she comes towards me with a vibrant smile and hugs me; she is the best.
“How was your school, dear?” Aunt Mira questions while she hugs me. Then she steps back.
I badly needed that hug; it makes my day.
“It was good. Aunt Mira, I am really tired. Can you bring me something to eat in my room?” I say with a smile.
I sure want to relax and veer away in the fantasy of sleep.
“Yes, of course. Go take a shower and put your dress in the laundry basket,” she says to me. I hug her one last time and go to my room.
My house is a 2 storey house with a big lawn, 4 bedrooms and bathrooms, one classy kitchen, an elegant living room and dining room, one library and a studio. My room is on the second floor. I walk up the stairs and open the door to heaven.
Chilled air makes contact with my soul.
Every day before I reach home Aunt Mira switches on the AC and that makes my room no less than heaven.
My room is a luxury room. I can spend my whole life here without any regrets. In my room, I have a double bed with 4 cushions and with a beautiful soft blanket. A platform just beside my bed with a switchboard, two drawers and a tall mirror attached to it. A sofa set at one side with a tea table and 2 other chairs too. A big television. Sliding glass door that leads to a beautiful balcony just outside my room which has several elegant flowers and a climber. I also have a closet that resembles a small room. I don't have a study table because we have a library and I study there only. I put my school bag on the sofa and walk towards the bathroom which is luxury just like my room. Jacuzzi bathtub, elegant shower inside a glass room, sink that gives the vibe of Morocco, etc.
Damn! The shower is calling me. I am coming, my beloved shower.
I slip out of my clothes and keep them in the laundry basket, pull my hair out of the braid and make a messy bun and then, a relaxing shower.
The slightly warm-cool water replenishes my soul with comfort. It feels so good.
Also in between Aunt Mira must have visited my room. After then, I wrap my towel around myself and walk towards my closet. I, then, changed into comfortable clothes. White T-shirt and plain grey shorts.
No bra because I am at home.
Before making my way towards the bed, I eat aloo paratha that Aunt Mira made. I jump on my bed and pull up the blanket. I take my phone out of the drawer that's in the platform which is just beside my bed and check my notifications. I then keep my phone back on the platform and snuggle back into my blanket.
Unaware of when I drift away to sleep.
Someone is caressing my cheeks and saying me to wake. The voice sounds melodious as if an angel is saying me to visit heaven.
I open my eyes and see my mom sitting in front of me. Still, in her work clothes, she smiles at me and me too.
Of course, the angel resides in my home. My maa.
“Muffin, wake up and drink your milk,” she says softly while caressing my hair.
I sit on my bed and manage my hairs. She picks up the glass and hands it over to me. I gulp down my delicious almond milk and give the glass to mama. She then keeps it on the dressing table that is beside my bed and wipes the milk moustache on the top of my lip with her thumb.
I love her the most.
“Maa, you know that I hate my current history teacher,” I say. She lets out a soft chuckle.
“I know. Do you have a choice?. You have to accept him but don't worry. Just two years more,” she says with a smile.
That buffalo. 2 insane years with him will send me to the insane asylum.
My mom Cara Cabral is in her mid 40's but still beautiful. Her brown-black hairs are perfect accentuating her doe brown eyes like melted chocolate.
She gets up and kisses me on my head. “Come downstairs and meet your dad.”
I nod in agreement and she leaves my room. I get out of my bed and go to the bathroom to refresh up. After coming out of the bathroom, I turn off my AC, wear my flip flops and head downstairs.
My dad, Jason John Cabral, also in his mid 40's and a famous lawyer, is examining a file thoroughly. Might be his new case. He is half-French and half-Indian and I am too. My mom is also a famous lawyer just like my dad but she is completely an Indian and hails from Delhi, however, my dad roots are from Panji, Goa but when he was young my paternal grandparents shifted to Jaipur, Rajasthan, where I was born too. I sit beside my dad on the sofa and hug him. He does the same and kisses me. His smile is like a ray of sunshine. We then start talking about our day.
My dad has a solid personality. As told by maa, he was one of the popular guys in the university and girls wooed over him. Fortunately, papa had eyes only of maa. Hehehehehe.
Apportioning out what we did, my mom also joins us in between. After an hour or so, we resume our work.
I go back to my room and take my books and make my way to the library. I sit at the study table and start looking through the chapter that I studied in school. After studying enough, I go out on the lawn and walk there. My maa, a short time later calls me and papa to have dinner.
During dinner, we talk and laugh. My parents try to give their precious time to me as much as they can. Many of the holidays that we get are also filled with work for them. But still, they try to amend the ways and spend their leisure time with me.
After having dinner, I say thank you to mama and go to the library. I take my books and go back to my bedroom to pack my bag. After that, I switch on my TV and AC and go back to my bed. I also take my phone and check my social media accounts. I don't do snap streaks but I do send them. Currently, The Big Bang Theory is occupying my nighttime.
After some time, maa and papa come to my room and wish me goodnight and give me a goodnight kiss. They switch off my room's light before heading back to their room which is downstairs. My eyelids gradually become heavy around 11. I switch off my phone and TV and snuggle back to my blanket.
I need at least 7 to 8 hours of sleep to function properly the next day, also that I have to do yoga with maa every day for 20 to 30 minutes and for that I must wake up at 6 am.
I sleep hoping that good dreams will come.
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