Paper Planes of Destiny

1972. 

The roads of Kannur, a little town in the south of India had more potholes than the municipality liked to admit. 

If Shahda wasn't as pious as she was, she would've cursed as her head bumped on the window for the twelth time that afternoon. The bus driver, however, had driven through these roads with roaring children in the back every day for thirty years. So bracing of the body on sighting a pothole and the momentary tremor it caused, were a part of him. 

But tremors had only just been introduced to Shahda's world recently. Except, the pothole that caused it couldn't be written to the municipality about, so it could lay in the office and collect dust. 

The tremor came from the demise of her father, that left her mother a widow and her elder sister and brother, herself and her younger brother fatherless. 

If we turned back the hands of the impatient time teller, we would find Shahda recounting her day to her bus mate. And if we're lucky enough, we would hear that laugh of hers which would probably scare the ears that are unfamiliar to it, initially, but would have you laughing just as hard in a moment. 

Two weeks later however, that laugh was a distant echo. Occasional sniffs and heavy sighs had taken over normality. 

She could sit straight to relieve her head of the pain from bumping against the window repeatedly. But those twenty minutes had become the only time of the day that she didn't have to be the shoulder that her family could lean on. The only time of the day she could let her shoulders loose, slouch a little and let her heavy heart sink in peace. So what if it came with a few bumps?

She went over the periodic table in her head; lately her favourite thing to do when she would lose herself in the thoughts of her father. She chanted the names of the elements like it was a prayer she had been saying since she was 2, when in reality, it was only taught to her last week. She closed her eyes trying to picture that page in her chemistry text book, the one that had pomegranate stain beside Argon from when her brother had handed her some. 

Hydrogen Helium Lithium Berellium

The bus halted at the newly set up traffic signal. The strands of her hair that stood out from her tightly twisted braids swayed to the tunes of the wind. 

The wind had its way that day.

It blew softly for a while and then fell silent for a bit. Not a leaf would move and the fumes from the tea stall nearby took longer to disintegrate. And then it would be back, like the breath on the surface in the middle of an underwater swim, catalysing the cooling of the tea, much to the tea staller's dismay.

Boron Carbon Nitrogen Oxygen

On a bench outside the tea stall, young teenage love bloomed as someone scrawled his pen across a piece of paper torn from his notebook.

Fluorine Neon Sodium Magnesium

He carefully folded it into a paper plane, similar to the ones he had been making since he was a little boy.

Aluminum Silicon Phosphorus Sulphur

The wind had its way that day.

The loose strands on Shahda's head swayed, the fumes from the tea disintegrated and the wings of young love got its direction. 

Chlorine Argon Potas-

Shahda stopped abruptly as she felt something land on the back of her hand that she used to hold her little basket with.

The wind had its way that day.

It fell silent. The leaves stopped moving. The fumes from the tea touched the shallow roof of the stall and the wind was snatched from beneath the wings of young love before it could reach its destination. 

Shahda peaked out the window, the shadow of the barred window casting upon her face, golden from the sinking sun. 

Her sight swept through the scene outside. 

"Has Kannur always been this crowded?" she imagined. The frame shifted as the world began to move backwards. 

She hurriedly leant forward to broaden her frame of view. She only caught a glimpse of people minding their business before everyone started getting progressively smaller and eventually eclipsed by other buses. 

Potassium Calcium Scandium Titanium Vanadium. 

She clenched the paperplane, but not hard enough to crush it. She looked around to find the girl beside her asleep and the rest of the bus in chaos. "You cheated!!" one of the little girls in the front screamed only to be denied. 

Shahda unfolded the paperplane. Its creases were sharp, from years of practice. Her heart started pacing. She had to take deep breaths to keep up with her fast (dis)functioning pump. 

A sensation of fear and mischief made her stomach turn inside out. A concoction of disbelief, that who would ever write to her and hope, that maybe, just maybe someone would, filled her mind.

Blue ink. Almost exactly same as the one she used. 

Shaky lines. Presumably out of nervousness.

Two sentences. 

"I wish I had the courage to talk to you. If I did, I will let you know how much you mean to me." 

Shahda's eyes read faster than her lips. She turned it over before she even finished reading it. 

Chromium Manganese , she murmured. Iron Cobalt Nickel-

"Did he write 'will' instead of 'would'? " she wondered, turning it over to have a peek and turning it back down just as quickly. 

All of her was convinced that the only right thing to do would be to crush the note and throw it out. 

"But wouldn't that mean hiding it from Amma?" , her conscience shot up. She wished she had thrown the paperplane before she had opened it. 

The piece of paper sought its memory. Folding back to the form its pilot had given it. Shahda subconsciously started folding it back, just the way her elder brother had taught her. 

"Could it have been a mistake?" , she wondered, "Could it have accidentally flown through my window?" 

She began unfolding it again to confirm if the note was addressed to someone or if it was signed, when the driver hit the break and Shahda almost hit her head on the seat in front of her. 

She slightly nudged the girl beside her as she gathered her belongings hastily. She stuffed the paperplane inside her basket and walked to the door. 

Most girls her age would have to duck, but Shahda was short, not something she was proud of, so she walked with her back straight. 

She fiddled with the rusting gate that she was still unfamiliar with.

Her uncle, who lived in the city, had let her mother and siblings stay in his mansion for time being. 

She heard the bus drive off behind her. She placed her shoes at the door, beside those of her siblings, and stood there contemplating the fate that the paperplane in her basket would bring her if she were to walk past that threshold. 

"Oh good you're here. Could you switch on the light outside before you come in? The call for evening prayer is going to be called out soon" Her mother said as she walked to the kitchen twisting her long braid into a bun. 

The light flickered twice before it illuminated the varranda. 

"What's wrong? come in!" She said on her way back from the kitchen, with a plate of rice in one hand and a bowl of curd in another. 

She fixed her sight on Shahda and sensed her hesitation as she walked towards her. 

Her brothers, changed and freshened up, seated themselves at the table. Her elder brother folded his sleeves as he began serving himself while her little brother sat swinging his legs looking at her. 

"Is everything alright?" her mother asked placing one of her hands on Shahda's shoulder and reaching for the basket with the other. 

Shahda clenched the basket tight, but let loose the second her mother touched it. 

"Go freshen up" she said. 

"Am..Amma" Shahda found herself saying. She reached for the paperplane and handed it to her mother. 

" - this flew in through my window in the bus today. I'm not sure who it was meant for." She said. 

A part of her wanted to sprint away. Snatch that wretched plane and throw it away. Watch it fly far into the sky until it couldn't be sighted. But most part of her was strangely calm. 

She was scared. Who else would a child call for if not her mother? 

Her mother unfolded the paperplane, her eyes still fixated on Shahda, lingering on her face for a little longer before they shifted to the note she held between her palms. 

She watched her mother's face not flinch at all. And then she gulped before speaking. 

"Tomorrow will be your last day in school. I'll call for an instructor next week and you'll start your stitching lessons." 

Copper Zinc Gallium Germanium Arsenic Selenium Bromine Krypton Rubidium...

2018 

"Okay okay try water now. It's extremely easy. There's no way you won't know this" , a young girl of 14 years squealed.

"Ah mmm is it HO2? Something like that" Shahda answered. The crinkles by her eyes became more defined when she smiled. Her skin, which would otherwise fall loose, tightened a little when she smiled too, and for a moment you could tell that she used to be beautiful. 

"Close! It's H2O!" the girl said after she finished giggling.

Shahda went over the periodic table in her head. She closed her eyes trying to picture that page in her chemistry textbook, the one that had watermelon stain, or was it pomegranate? It had a stain beside Argon from when her brother had handed her something. 

Hydrogen Helium...

Shahda stammered. 

Hydrogen Helium...Li...Boron?

Shahda felt deceived. The elements that stuck with her when she felt like she had been stranded, left her stranded somewhere along the way. 

"Stop bothering your grandma and come to bed" shouted a woman's voice from the bedroom. 

"Go on, it's late", Shahda said as she caressed her granddaughter's head. 

Shahda caught the girl's hand as she got up to leave.

"Say, my dear, do you know how to make a paperplane?" she said, her eyes staring at something abstract. 

"Not really, I know how to make a paper boat though" she replied. 

Shahda's mind drifted to the time she heard her mother crying to her uncle about the financial concerns that came with raising four children. 

That night she scrawled a love note, adding grammatical mistakes making it more believable and folded it into a paperplane. 

She came up with the story she would tell her mother, so she would hopefully stop her schooling. That way, maybe her mother would have one child's school fees less to pay. 

The next day on her way back, she stuffed the note into her basket. 

And stood at the threshold, her legs trembling but her will unshakable. 

"Very well then, I'll teach you how to make paperplanes tomorrow" Shahda said, her fingers still wrapped around her grand-daughter's hand, her lips suddenly bended into a smile. She lifted her eyes to meet the girl's. 

"Can you keep a secret?" she said.