FIFTEEN

Things have been going on weird since the past week. I have been getting strange illusions with no meanings, not been able to concentrate in school and getting uneasy feelings when the school gets over. But now I know why.

It was enough on Saturday. I had ruled out all other causes but one likely cause of the weirdness which hung in the air which I could not make head or tail of. That was the uneasy feeling I got when school got over. So I started linking the events which usually happen at that time and have recently changed. And there I got it. The only change was the change of our school bus driver, Gafar khan. And it made direct connection with the emergence of my uneasy feelings according to my instincts but HOW was still a question.

So I got my Sherlock Holmes cap on and started observing him just to make it sure that I should not let any such detail slip from my hands which could explain the connection. I started noticing that he would often eavesdrop in my conversation with my friends. Would often try to engage my ever-ready talkative father into conversations which would disclose my family ties. Often he would stare at me and would ask again and again, what my name was and when I used to answer him, “Khan Uncle its Tripti ”, and his face would turn to a greenish white shade. As if a candle which was burning with a lot of effort was extinguished by the cold tone of my answer.

Yesterday was enough. I was standing beside my bus with my best friend talking about the fun we had on the last family wedding. Suddenly there was a sound of sneeze which was filled with anxiety from the corner of the bus. I would have ignored it but not that day. I went up there and saw that Gafar khan was standing there anxiously staring at me.

This time I could not resist but spoke with rage and anguish.”Gafar uncle, I don’t know what your intentions are but I really don’t approve of your attitude towards me. I don’t know why you stare at me and want to know about my family. I didn’t say anything until now ,but now after you being caught by me spying on me, you would not be left unquestioned. If I would just tell about you to my family, you will be losing your one week old job.”But he was not listening. He was looking at something in his purse and staring back at me, his hands shaking. Now I could not tolerate it. I snatched his purse from his hands to take a look at what in the world was he staring at.

There was a picture of a girl in burkha. And after a while I realised that the girl in burkha and I shared same age and same face.

I looked up towards Gafar khan. My eyes as big as an owl. He spoke without looking at me, “She is my daughter Nazrana, tomorrow is her fifteenth death anniversary.”

My face turned pale when I realised that tomorrow was my fifteenth birthday.