Breaking Free

47 year old Shantha watched the thin and tall frame of her daughter striding toward the security checks, a stride of elegance and homeliness at the same time. She watched her stop suddenly in the middle and adjust her dupatta that had been displaced by a gust from the air conditioner. The growing gap reminded her that it was time to search for a groom. It wouldn’t be very difficult, she had raised her well. Rashmi’s thick black plaits and fair complexion that beautifully contrasted her black, round bindi, only added to her conventional beauty that would definitely fetch her many proposals from well placed Brahmin boys. Her only concern was Rashmi’s extremely good placement that could put off many potential grooms. She would have to teach her how to hide her intelligence.

As soon as Rashmi went out of sight, Shantha took out her phone from her handbag, opened her Whatsapp and hovered straight over her display picture. A fluffy white rabbit looked back at her. Shantha never allowed Rashmi to put up a picture of herself on any form of social media. “Kannu padum ma,” she’d patiently offer her reason. Rashmi would smile and nod her head. Just the right kind of smile, a gentle curve of her lips which never revealed her teeth. Shantha scrolled up and down the conversation restlessly waiting for Rashmi to come online and inform her when she was about to board the flight.

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“This is an announcement for passengers on flight 232 from Chennai to Hyderabad. The flight has been delayed due to delayed arrival from Coimbatore. Our new departure time is 10:50 AM”

Rashmi had 2 hours to kill. She took out her phone and opened up her Whatsapp. A flurry of unopened messages were waiting. She headed over straight to Amma’s conversation. Amma was online.

“Flight delayed by a couple of hours.” She typed.

Amma had already started typing. It would take a while though considering how slow her typing was. She began to quickly send messages to Reshma, Rahul, George and Azif to add her back to the class group, club groups and friends’ groups that she’d temporarily quit before going home. She was once again ready for the meme spam and gossip, for a longer timespan this time, perhaps until wedding bells would start ringing and she’d have to kill that small dose of fun forever.

The notification from Amma surfaced finally. “That’s so much time. Enna panra? Video call pannu.” She had just reached the last full stop when Amma video called herself. She stumbled in her bag for her earphones while it rang and rushed to hit the Accept button.

“When are you coming home next?”

“I will come for Diwali for sure. Don’t worry” Rashmi smiled. Just the right kind of smile, a gentle curve of her lips which never revealed her teeth. Which never reached her eyes as she kept the trace of annoyance locked deep inside. “Amma, there’s a book store here. I’ll go buy a book and read. I’ll call you once I reach Hyderabad.”

“Okay kanna, bye. Take care.”

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Rashmi strolled past the gates, lost in thought. A gust displaced her dupatta again. But, this time, she tore it off her chest, crumpled it, put it away in her backpack and headed straight for the rest room. It was difficult enough to deal with that, her backpack and her fat suitcase.

She washed her face thoroughly this time, making sure to peel off the bindi. She removed her hair band, slowly, watching her thick black curls unfurl and billow in all directions.

Tie up your hair, don’t roam like a prostitute, Appa’s voice would echo at home right after she washed her hair and left it open under the fan for it to dry.

She prised the jhumkis off her ears. A weight lifted. She lifted off her khameez leaving behind a black tank top that was to be worn in case her salwar khameez was too transparent, which for the general public, translated to barely even translucent. It went well with her black leggings.

Be careful in college kanna, don’t make friends with perverted girls who think they have the right to do anything just because they’re female, even strip and manipulate poor men. Amma’s voice echoed as flashbacks of college admissions returned. How she scoffed at those girls who donned off shoulders, crop tops and shorts.

It was time for a selfie and she smiled again. This time, her teeth sparkled and her eyes twinkled as she uploaded it on her secret instagram account captioned “Breaking Free”.

She looked again into the mirror, finally recognizing her reflection. She was the freak her parents had warned her about.

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As she walked past the gates, she glanced in all directions to see if she had turned any heads. Everyone seemed to be minding their own business.

She could stay this way for a long time now. Until the wedding bells started to ring. Or not.

She could go home for Diwali, or she needn’t. A few months into Hyderabad, and she’d go home for Diwali, however tempting the possibility of avoiding going seemed right now. The price to keep her parents happy was actually quite small, she would grow to realize.

She could go to Goa now, just like her batch mates in college had done in their final year. She was a little late to the party, but it was okay, at least it was a possibility.

She could marry, or she needn’t. If she did, she could agree to her parents’ choice. Or she needn’t.

She just had to cover up a little. She was always good with that. The Salwar Khameez was not the only mask after all. Now, she just had to channel the inconvenience into a more fuller life.

And if it all came crashing down, she could still survive. On some bread and butter. That was hers.

She settled down on a seat near her gate of departure. There was still an hour and a half to kill. Hyderabad biryani to look forward to. Time would pass quickly.

And it did. With every moment truly lived.