Tag: school life

Chapter Thirteen: A Helpful Voice

The class seemed to go on forever. Praveena couldn’t concentrate, but she was careful not to drift away from the lesson. She didn’t want Ms Marrie thinking she was playing the fool.

Ever since Ms Marrie had assured Praveena that she was open for discussion, Praveena had been feeling an unmistakable urge to talk to her. But she was also a bit scared of the outcome. What would Ms Marrie think of her?

As she watched Ms Marrie teaching, Praveena thought about talking to her. She had a lot of agony within her and she wanted someone to open up to. Ms Marrie was the only person who had given any indication she would listen.

Praveena decided to talk to her.

‘Are you sure?’ her inner voice peeked up. She silenced it with a definite yes.

When the class ended, Praveena trailed Ms Marrie out of the class. Spotting her, Ms Marrie said, “Hi, Praveena. How are you?”

“Not good, Miss.” she replied without looking in to Ms Marrie’s eyes.

“You want to talk about it?”

Praveena nodded. It seemed odd, asking a teacher to talk to you about personal things. But she didn’t care anymore. She missed her mother more than ever; she wanted someone to listen to her, to console her and to chide her. She wanted her mother. She wanted to tell someone that what happened to her was unfair and she wanted affirmation.

Ms Marrie nodded curtly and walked towards her room. On the way, they came across Ms Selima, Praveena’s English teacher.

“Why aren’t you in class?” She asked sternly, peering at Praveena through the top of her glasses.

“Oh, I’m borrowing her for a while, Selima. Sorry I didn’t let you know.” Marrie smiled brightly.

“OK,” Ms Selima said and went on her way without giving Praveena a second look. Praveena stood watching her with a queer expression. “She and I aren’t the best of friends,” Ms Mary mused, watching Praveena.

She looked up at Ms Marrie. Smiling, she led Praveena to her room.

Before they went inside, Ms Marrie offered Praveena a stress buster. “How about a cup of tea, Praveena?” She asked picking up the kettle that had been sitting on a table just behind the door.

“Please.” Praveena was surprised. Personal beverages within the school campus? She was sure Principal Vanitha would never hear of this.

Ms Marrie bolted the door and settled behind the desk as Praveena sat facing her. Noticing the room darker than it had been the last time she was there, Praveena saw that Ms Marrie hadn’t opened the window.

“Alright,” Ms Marrie began with an air of getting things done. “What’s bothering you, Praveena?” she asked in a more serious tone.

It surprised Praveena. Just a second ago, Ms Marrie had sounded casual and lighthearted. And now she was all serious.

“Praveena?” she repeated. Praveena looked up at her.

“Hey, look. I know you’ve had a lot of problems. But just remember, you’re not alone.”

“What?”

“Everyone has problems of their own, only the degree of it differs.” She shrugged. “Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not belittling your suffering,” she paused tilting her head towards Praveen. “but I’m only saying you should be aware of others’ problems too.”

“But how could I do that? Should I just walk up to them…” Praveena trailed away thinking of Priya.

“No.” Ms Marrie replied. “you don’t need to do anything like that. Just keep in mind that people you meet every day are undergoing tough stuff. Even if they don’t show it.”

Praveena nodded.

“Now, tell me. What were you upset about the other day?” Ms Marrie wanted to help, Praveena could see that. ‘She could give you a better insight, you know’ her inner voice said. ‘and another perspective’ the second voice added.

“Mr Andrew.” Praveena paused, not knowing how to open the matter. Now that she had someone to talk to, the matter seemed trivial. Maybe she was just being stupid.

Ms Marrie egged her on, “What about him?”

“He told me — ” she swallowed, “he told me he hated teaching.” She waited, expecting Ms Marrie to say something. But she showed no sign of surprise. Apparently it wasn’t news to her.

“And?” Ms Marrie urged after a while.

“He said he had wanted to be an archeologist and that he changed his mind because someone convinced him to.” Once she heard it come out of her mouth, it sounded a bit funny that such a thing had worried her so much.

“So, that’s what upset you,” Ms Marrie confirmed, nodding curtly.

“Yes.” Praveena’s voice was small.

“Good.” She nodded in approval. Praveena had not been expecting that.

“What?” she was perplexed.

“What exactly about Mr Andrew’s life bothered you?” Ms Marrie had a strange expression on her face, as if it was a perfectly ordinary matter to discuss, “Don’t worry, be honest.” she added, seeing Praveena’s unsure look.

Praveena thought. What had really upset her was, “he gave up on his dream too easily, and I couldn’t accept it.”

“Exactly,” Ms Marrie exclaimed jubilantly. “That’s good.”

“Why?” Praveena was confused.

“If you’re upset about someone else not realizing their dreams, it just means you have a passion to see others succeed in life.”

Praveena wore a quizzical look. She had no such passion at all. Perhaps Ms Marrie had misunderstood her. This conversation was becoming pointless.

“Let me explain,” Ms Marrie seemed to have read her thoughts, “You strongly believe people should realize their dreams. Right?”

Praveena nodded silently.

“So, when Andrew ended up a teacher, your belief was tested for the first time. That’s why you were upset. You couldn’t accept it because you had never heard of it happen before. Am I right?”

Praveena now saw the picture, as understanding drew on her face. She nodded.

“But don’t mistake the power of society. It will continue to test you and surprise you. You will face the same confusion every time your beliefs are questioned. It’s up to you to decide how to react. You follow?”

“Yes, Miss” Praveena sounded happier now. Her heart felt lighter. “But Miss, does it mean that my trust will always be broken?”

“Maybe,” Ms Marrie shrugged “you can never be sure.”

“Then,” Praveena was again confused. ‘’what should I do if I’m not sure?”

Ms Marrie was silent. Her eyebrows creased as she thought. “I don’t know.” she said at last. “Maybe that’s for you to find out.”

Praveena nodded in agreement. “Maybe…” she trailed away.

They were silent for a while. Then Marrie broke it.

“How’s your father, Praveena? How’s he taking your mother’s death?” Marrie wanted Praveena to talk, to open up and reveal her innermost feelings. She knew Praveena had never done that before.

“It’s really difficult for him, he can’t come out of it.” Praveena’s voice went all squashy. It was strange, talking to Ms Marrie about her mother so easily, when she had reacted so badly towards Priya.

“I see,” Ms Marrie observed, “and,” she paused now looking directly into Praveena’s eyes, “what about you?”

“I’m fine, really”

Ms Marrie smiled. ‘Did I sound convincing?’ Praveena wondered.

“You know, that’s a bit too quick to be true.”

‘Perhaps not.’

“What’s going on, Praveena? Tell me exactly, don’t be shy and don’t be scared. Just talk.” Marrie’s voice was gentle, urging Praveena.

“I feel — ” she stopped and sniffed, “sad. Like I have no reason to live, like I’ll never be the same again.” she gulped.

“Like a part of you had died,” Marrie helped.

“Yes.”

“That’s how you should feel, because that’s what happened.” Ms Marrie wore a smile on her lips, a content and satisfied smile.

For some odd reason, Praveena felt better.

National Blog Posting Month – Day 14

Chapter Ten: The Loss

Praveena was interrupted in Andrew’s class the next afternoon. The principal wanted to meet her. Annoyed and a little curious at the same time, she made her way as slow as possible, to the principal’s room.

Again, as she passed Ms Marrie’s room, she saw her reading. Their eyes locked, and Praveena sped up. When she reached the principal’s office, she knocked once and was asked to enter.

As soon as she entered, Principal Vanitha spoke. “You’re mother’s ill. Your father is coming to get you. Wait”. The principal was careful never to betray emotion in her tone — not that she felt any. In her five years as the principal, she had seen countless students and parents who fell ill and then recovered. It was just another day for her.

Not for Praveena though. She didn’t know what to say or do. She stood stunned, staring at the principal like she’d thrown a dumbbell at her face.

“Wait outside,” the principal snapped and waved her away. Praveena turned, her feet carrying her outside the office. The look on her face was fixed and her face had become rather white.

She didn’t have to wait long though. After about ten minutes of confused wondering, the school security guard escorted her father to her. Too scared to utter a single word, Praveena followed her father. The huge lump in her chest was growing with every step she took.

A tough twenty-minute ride later, Kamal was rushing inside a building with a huge banner: The National Cancer Institute. Praveena quickened her strides. She barely noticed the people she passed as she followed her father. She had never been in here before; her parents had always visited this place while she was in school. Nurses rushed to and fro without paying the slightest attention to anyone else. A few patients in wheelchairs were on the move continuously. Praveena almost knocked into an old bald man. “I’m sorry” she hastily whispered, rushing. Her mouth had gone dry. The building seemed to stretch a long way.

In the farthest corner of a long corridor, Kamal stopped in front of a door with a large number seven embedded on it. Praveena rushed to him. Signaling her to be quiet, Kamal opened the door and went inside.

Praveena peeped in and saw her mother. The pillows on either side of her made her appear much thinner than she was. She had tubes connecting to her wrist and her nostrils. The overwhelming scent of medicine and the sight of her mother made Praveena dizzy. She swayed on the spot. Kamal was by her side in an instant. “She’s got Jaundice” he whispered to her.

She didn’t need her father to explain what that meant. Wikipedia and countless other online magazines had given her all the information she needed. Since Geetha’s diagnosis, Praveena had scoured the Internet for anything she could find about the ailment that would take her mother away from her.

Jaundice was the final sign that Death was approaching. Fast.

The thought made Praveena shiver. She could hear her heart beating fast as if it wanted to get away from the cage it was imprisoned.

Praveena sat in a chair away from the bed, staring at the limp and unrecognizable figure on the bed. How could this happen to her? Why did it happen? She couldn’t think straight and she couldn’t cry. Her mind wailed like an injured dog, but no tears fell from her eyes. She just sat and stared.

Praveena stayed with her mother at the hospital. Geetha has stopped eating and drinking, her skin became a pale yellow, and the look of it sent a chill of dread through Praveena’s spine.

Praveena wanted to hear her mother’s voice, she longed to hear from her mother that everything would be alright. Praveena was ready to believe even in the impossible, if it came from her mother. But she knew it wouldn’t happen.

Her mother was leaving her and she had to watch, heartbroken and helpless.

Geetha died on Friday.

Praveena had just brought a bunch of tulips into Geetha’s room. For the two days she was in the hospital, Praveena bought fresh flowers to put in the vase next to the bed. Tulips were Geetha’s favourite.
Whenever Praveena walked by the bed to place the flowers in the vase, Geetha would follow her with her eyes and watch in silence, a tiny smile playing on her lips.

On Friday morning, Praveena placed the flowers and looked eagerly at her mother’s reaction, only to find her face turned towards the vase, eyes closed.

Perplexed, Praveena went over to her father, who sat in the chair going through some medical files.

“Pa?” she asked tentatively.

“Hmm?” Kamal responded without looking up. He hadn’t slept well in two days and it showed in his eyes; they were sunken and red. His blue shirt was creased beyond any repair that an iron could do, and his soul was hurt more than he let show.

“Why is Ma still asleep?”

Kamal detected the fear in her voice. He stood and walked up to the bed in one swift motion. He took Geetha’s wrist with shaking hands.

With a shocked expression on his face he backed away from the bed in a rush. Geetha’s hand limply fell on to the bed.

He rushed outside, stumbling in the doorway, to get the doctor. Praveena had backed into the wall, clutching the cold stone for warmth. Kamal was back within the minute accompanied by the doctor. The doctor examined Geetha and delivered the blow.

Praveena stood stunned and watched in horrified silence as her father and everyone else around her reacted feverishly. It made no sense to her, it was all in a rushed blur. She didn’t need the doctor to confirm her fear; Kamal’s look had done that already.
Praveena understood.

Her mother had left her life.

 

National Blog Posting Month – Day 11

Chapter Nine: Useless Efforts

Praveena’s school life progressed with her making little progress. Days were long and nights longer. She witnessed her mother slowly walking up the path towards Death, but she neither said nor did anything to comfort her mother. She was worried though — so worried. She tried, day after day, to prepare herself to face what she must, but it wasn’t easy.

She cried a lot. Her eyes became puffy and dark circles began to form around them. It became a part of her appearance. She began neglecting herself trying to focus instead, on the pressing school work that was gnawing on the thin line that connected her with her mother. They were talking less and less.

Geetha hardly spoke nowadays, speaking only when it was necessary or only when Praveena came up to her.

One Saturday afternoon, Praveena came up to her parents’ room to sit with Geetha. Geetha’s eyes lit up when she saw her daughter standing by the door, holding lunch in a tray. She gestured her to sit by her side. Praveena did.

“Hi, Ma” she smiled brightly, a false smile which Geetha was quick to notice. Geetha said nothing but smiled in response. Praveena saw that Geetha struggled to raise her hand. She had lost so much of weight; her eyes were sunken; her lips dry and parched, and her now bald head seemed fragile. Only her eyes stood bright against the yellowish skin that stretched across her face.

When she spoke, her voice was barely audible and her breath came out in wheezes. Praveena tried hard not to panic. She wanted to scream for help and kneel by her mother, pleading and weeping not to leave her behind. ‘What’s the use?’ Her inner voice asked. ‘That won’t make her stay,’ the second voice comforted her. And Praveena, for once, decided to listen to her inner voices and remain sane. She couldn’t shake off the feeling though. She thought she’d feel better if she spoke of her fears, even though she knew it wouldn’t help her get through this phase of sadness and loneliness.

Geetha watched her, helpless but understanding the trauma Praveena went through. They sat watching each other in silence. A silence that echoed so loud in Praveena’s ears that she could bear it no more. She broke the silence.

“Have your lunch, Ma. Come on,” she stood and made to help Geetha sit up, but she waved her hand.

“I don’t feel hungry,” she managed to say, her hand falling limply to her side.

“Shall I make some juice at least?” fear welled up inside Praveena. Geetha shook her head, and heaved a sigh.

Geetha turned away from her daughter and while she suffered from the pain untold, Praveena watched in silence, suffering in her own way.

It was the recess time on Monday. Praveena sat in the last bench eating alone. She was lost in her own thoughts and didn’t notice Priya come up to her. She was a pretty face with dark shoulder-length hair that she wore in a braid. Having lost interest in long-braided hairdos, Praveena had always wondered how Priya and the other long-haired girls ever managed to maintain their hair with so much care. Despite showing no interest in nurturing her hair, Praveena’s long pixie was messy and healthy.

Sitting next to her, Priya asked, “Hey you ok?”

Surprised, Praveena turned round and managed a courteous smile, “Yep, I’m fine.” she shrugged.

“Oh,” Priya faltered, not knowing what to say. She remained silent.

It didn’t bother Praveena and she continued her lunch.

Feeling awkward with the silence that stretched between them, Priya asked, “How come you don’t talk much?” It wasn’t just a question to keep the conversation ticking, it was an earnest and curious question.

“I talk.” Parvenu declared surprised. “you know,” she shrugged, “when I have something important to say.”

“Oh, ok.”

Silence.

“Oh well, I’ll leave you to your lunch then,” Priya rushed the words, as if she wanted to get away. “See you.”

“Ya, see you…” Praveena’s voice trailed away.

Priya left as fast as she could. She joined another group and was soon chattering away amidst loud laughter.

Praveena watched them, munching on.

‘They have problems too, you know’ it was her inner voice. It had come up again after a day-long absence.

‘Maybe… but — ‘

‘You’re so full of self-pity. It’s not good.’ her inner voice cut her short. ‘Listen to me, you should snap out of it.’

‘I know, I can see that,’ Praveena thought, ‘but it isn’t easy.’

‘Yes, I know. Make an effort at least,’ her inner voice didn’t sound as stern as it used to. It was sympathetic and firm.

‘Oh ok, I will.’

 

National Blog Posting Month – Day 10

Chapter Seven: Bitten

‘Maybe you should have spoken to her,’ one of Praveena’s inner voices surfaced. She was in class, with a blank stare plastered on her face as her English teacher explained Confusibles.

‘Please don’t start,’ Praveena thought. ‘I’m already confused’.

‘OK, but I still think — ‘

‘SHUT UP!’ Praveena almost said audibly. The few students, who sat around her, heard it and sniggered. The teacher missed it though, she was clarifying the brightest student’s doubts.

No other voice showed up, but Praveena’s mind had begun racing. Ms Marrie had been right, she needed to talk to someone. It was as if her head had too many thoughts to hold. But she wondered if Ms Marrie was the right person. She found it hard to trust Ms Marrie, or anyone for that matter; her mother, father, her class mates — everyone. ‘What if they avoid me thinking I’m crazy because I talk to my own head?’

“Preveena!” she heard her name being called out from afar.

“PRAVEENA!” It sounded a bit close now. Someone shook her shoulders hard. She came out of her reverie, ‘Huh?’

Her teacher stood over her, a gigantic figure looming over Praveena, “I asked you a question” she said, gritting her teeth and pronouncing every word deliberately.

Praveena returned a mute glassy look, not quite understanding what Ms Selima said.

“Get out.” she snapped heated.

Praveena understood that, and left the room. She stood outside the class wondering what she had done to deserve the punishment.

Some fifteen minutes later, the bell rang and out walked Ms Selima. She took one stern look at Praveena and spoke with badly concealed distaste, “Follow me, we’re going to the principal’s room.” Parveena didn’t miss the note of malice in her voice.

She followed without protest.

As they walked past Ms Marrie’s room, Praveena caught sight of Marrie, reading with a cup of tea by her side. She looked up from her book as they passed the window and Praveena thought she saw a dawning look on her face, though she couldn’t have known what had happened.

They reached the principal’s room. It was painted grey and Praveena had already been there once before that day. Ms Selima gave a curt knock and entered, with Praveena dragging in herself. For some reason, she felt sleepy. She stifled a yawn with difficulty.

“Ahem, what do we have here?”

There she was, seated on a huge yellow cushion chair. It was difficult to discern where the cushion ended, seeing as the principal also wore yellow. But it was not the colour of her dress that caught Praveena’s and the attention of everyone else who entered the room; it was the colour of her table cloth, which was a bright blue. To see the blue against an equally bright backdrop was enough to pain anyone’s eyes. When people looked away, the principal assumed it was out of respect and fear that no one faced her.

It happened again. The table cloth stunned Ms Selima into silence for a minute. ‘Perhaps she had never been in here since the makeover happened.’ thought Praveena smugly. Ms Selima recovered soon enough though.

“Madam, this girl wasn’t paying attention in my class.” Ms Selima announced jubilantly. “Again.” she added as an afterthought.

‘Powerful’ Praveena’s inner voice offered appreciatively. ‘ gain?’ Praveena wondered quietly, ‘ o she’s been complaining about me? I wonder how many times had she done that?’

The principal peered at her, expecting an apology, or a plea. When neither came, she asked for it.

“What do you have to say, girl?” She resounded pushing her huge wire-rimmed glasses further up her nose. It sounded to Praveena as if she had waited all day to bite a student.

“My name’s Praveena, not ‘girl’”

Silence. Both women stared at her as if she had just told them they were stupid. Praveena tried hard to hide her glee. She didn’t know what made her say it, but she hated it when people called her by anything other than her name.

She had infuriated the principal, she knew it. She didn’t care though. The principal spoke and Praveena noticed a slice of malice in her tone.

“Alright, Praveena,” she made an extra emphasis on her name, “knowing your name makes it easier for me to locate your parents’ phone number.” She made Ms Salima fetch the class register. She looked up Praveena’s name and called Kamal.

‘Nasty old woman,’ thought Praveena as she heard the principal speak to her father rudely. It was a short conversation, she demanded to see him immediately and hung up without giving him time to respond.

Kamal promised to arrive in ten minutes — he always did. Until then, Praveena was told to stand outside the principal’s room while Ms Selima told the principal all about her behavior in class. As she stood waiting, she saw Mr Andrew enter the room. He neither looked at her nor respond when she greeted him good afternoon — more out of duty than of respect.

When Kamal arrived, escorted by the security, he looked at Praveena questioningly. She shrugged in response.

Ms Selima came out and instructed Kamal and Praveena to follow her into the office. They did.

Inside, once the usual eye-strain was over with, Principal Vanitha started her tirade.

She told Kamal about Praveena not concentrating in classes, and added more on how she disturbed the other students as well. She also brought in her witnesses, Ms Selima and Mr Andrew who certified Praveena was out of control.

Kamal was visibly shocked. He hadn’t expected to hear so many negative traits about his daughter in one day. She was his princess, how could she disappoint him like this? He was more worried than angry.

He apologized for Praveena’s misbehaviour, and assured them she would behave well from now on.

“Won’t you?” he turned a stern eye at her.

Praveena betrayed no emotion. She wasn’t angry at her father, she was angry at the school and the teachers. “I will.” she responded flatly. She wanted nothing more than to leave the place.

Several times during the meeting, she looked at Andrew but he never met her eyes. She hated him now, and he knew it. She was ashamed to have trusted this man at all.

Kamal didn’t say a word to her after that. She followed him to the gate silently, and just as he was about to leave, Ms Marrie came up to them.

“May I have a word with you, Mr Kamal?”

Praveena moved away, and watched them talk. They spoke for a couple of minutes. Kamal mostly listened and nodded. His face was impassive. When he turned to leave, he raised a hand at Praveena, smiled lightly, and walked away. Praveena heard him whistling her favourite song.

Chapter Six: Teacher Coaxer

When Praveena entered late to class, her Science teacher had already begun. Seeing her at the door, Ms Marrie smiled and gestured her to enter. She said nothing.

Praveena took her seat feeling miserable. She knew Ms Marrie wouldn’t ask her anything. Marrie knew how much the higher staff hated rule breakers, but wasn’t one of them. She often declared that it’s alright to break the rules once a while.

Marrie continued explaining heat conductors with a flourish. Praveena couldn’t concentrate. Science was not one of her favourite subjects, but she liked Ms Marrie, and tried hard to score more in her subject.

Today though, her mind drifted. ‘Could Ms Marrie be like Andrew? Does she really love teaching, or is she convincing herself of it everyday, like Andrew said?’ Praveena was so immersed in her own thoughts that she didn’t realize the bell that rang to signal the end of class. She startled when everyone stood up to thank Ms Marrie.

Ms Marrie came up to her and said in a quite voice, “I want to talk to you. Follow me.” It was neither a question nor a suggestion. It was an order, but she made it sound like a request. That was Ms Marrie’s speciality; she knew how to talk to a person.

Praveena didn’t think what they would discuss, instead, she followed Marrie out of the class as if possessed. Just then Andrew approached them, book in his hand. It was not his class.

Ms Marrie spoke to him as Praveena watched. His old flourish was back. He looked as if nothing made him happier than teaching his favourite subject. Praveena was confused. He had been so upset and broken the previous day, yet now, here he stood pretending like that never happened. Though she did notice he refused to make eye contact with her. It annoyed her. Why did he still pretend? If he didn’t like the job, he could have at least left to do whatever he wanted, he didn’t have to worry about anyone or anything. Then why was he still voluntarily miserable?

Praveena couldn’t make out a probable answer. She only knew Andrew had wasted his life away. And she pitied him.

“Come on,” called Ms Marrie as she walked towards her room. Her blue sari swung in the breeze, mildly caressing Praveena’s arm. As the sari made contact with her arm, Praveena thought of her mother, and how she doesn’t dress up anymore. She felt her eyes searing and wiped them in a hurry.

Ms Marrie stopped in front of a door, opened it, and entered. Praveena followed.

Ms Marrie’s room was smaller than Andrew’s, but more familiar. The table was strewn with books of various sizes and there were four or five paper cups stacked with tea bags inside them. Praveena smiled. Ms Marrie was an avid tea-drinker, she realized, like herself. The walls were all plain except for a single poster of a man she didn’t recognise.

“Sit down.” Ms Marrie said, shuffling the books on her table. Praveena caught a few titles, The Last Lecture, Persuasion, Tuesdays with Morrie, Wind in the Willows, a couple of Agatha Christie books, and a few more she had never heard of. “Sorry for the mess,” she apologized, taking her chair.

Once she was settled facing Praveena, she asked, “So, how are you?”

“Huh?” That was unexpected.

“How are you?” Ms Marrie repeated more slowly.

“Fine” said Praveena, defiant and a little louder than was necessary.

“No you’re not.” It was just another statement, but Marrie’s was so sure that it surprised Praveena.

“Something is bothering you.” she paused for a reaction, and sure enough, Praveena’s eyes tensed. “You want to talk about it?” she continued.

“I — er — I was just worried about being late…” Praveena trailed off. She couldn’t hold Ms Marrie’s gaze and dropped her eyes to her hands which she twisted on her lap.

“You know,” Ms Marrie smiled, “you make it so obvious when you’re lying.” She sounded amused. She had caught a lot of students telling lies, but Praveena was the easiest by far.

Praveena remained silent.

Ms Marrie leaned over on her elbows, peering into Parvenu’s downcast eyes. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk to me about it,” Praveena’s eyes met hers. “but something tells me you need to get it out of your chest. I’ll only tell you that you can trust me. I’ll be a good listener. If you don’t trust me, you can leave. I’ll hold nothing against you.” Ms Marrie’s voice was calm, she hadn’t raised it at all. Yet she had made her point clear. She hadn’t threatened Praveena, or demanded her to talk. She spoke like a friend might — earnest.

Praveena didn’t move. She had her doubts. She was scared to talk to Ms Marrie. Why did Marrie want her to talk about her thoughts? ‘What if she thinks I’m a fool? What if she misunderstands me? Would she tell Ma and Pa that I am a lunatic? What if? What if —?’

Praveena stood up without saying a word, turned around and walked out of the room. As she closed the door behind her, she heard Ms Marrie sigh.