4. Dhruvan's Dear Diary Daily Digest-ish

Second-bests are actually the very best.

Second-bests are not too proud or machiavellian, nor do they have the absolute necessity to stay humble and lay low.

Me. People like me are what they call second-best; and 'they' is a lot of people, counting up to almost everyone in my life and theirs.

All because of a hideous creature I'm supposed to deem and respect. My brother.

I was the convenient option, thanks to him. I was the child who was ‘nothing like his brother'.

And that came at a cost. And I'm paying the price for it today.

"Thank you so much for making me happy, Dhruva. You will be blessed."

Then bless me with the freedom and partner I deserve, Ma.

"Whatever makes you happy makes me happy, ma." I stretched my lips, curving the ends at a just-right level, and squinted my eyes to hide whatever bitterness they carried, like a perpetually pregnant mother bearing a dead child in the womb till her death.

It was a terrifyingly perfect smile, just like my terrifyingly crafted perfect life. Not crafted by or for myself, of course.

"Now, wear this shirt. Your Anna would have liked this color."

I never knew my cut was bleeding till I shaved that area again, my body reacting with more pressure on the hand I used to shave. That's the kind of effect my Anna and my mother had on me.

Anna.

More like an abomination whose burden I am cursed to take on.

I looked at the shirt and turned my head away in disgust, back to shaving.

"I don't look good in browns, ma."

"Yes, you do, my dear son. Nothing suits you and your brother like a good brown."

Why him again, ma? He is not even here when you only have a few months left to live.

I protested. "Ma, please. I don't want anything brown."

Or anything at all that reminds me of him and his tastes.

"Please, son. I won't have too many wishes to ask in due time."

I may be one of the very few humans on this planet to have wished to be born as something beautifully insignificant like a lizard or a cockroach because dealing with emotions is fine as long as they’re separated.

But imagine the pain of feeling shattered, disturbed, and disgusted all at once.

Now that's a poison not meant for just anyone here but me.

"I don’t like it when you talk about yourself this way Ma. You'll be fine. Now, hand me that shirt."

A triumphant look passed her face before it went back to being serene again.

"Such a good boy, my son."

Such a good boy.

Such a good boy.

Such a good boy.

Such a good boy.

Why?

Why give me that title?

I don't want to be a good boy. I just want to be any other boy. I want to be just a boy.

But that's not possible now. Too bad I was born into such a financially prosperous but spiritually broken family that I am the torchbearer now. I am the light and pride of the family. I am the one with the crown.

But nobody understands that the one who wears the crown bears the crown.

I used to try and find ways to not do things I don't like and I pretty much succeeded most of the time till the news of my mother's cancer changed everything for me.

Nothing else happened to him. He was sad, of course. But he left after a few days, leaving everything to me.

"You're everyone's favorite, man. They'd prefer your presence over mine any day. I have my own life to live and we both know I never liked our family anyway. Must be nice to live your life, Dhruva," commented my brother.

"You're always welcome to take my place," I retorted.

His left eyebrow rose like a momentarily erratic pulse in an ECG machine. That meant he either found my response amusing or annoying.

"Fool's gold stays fool's gold. Don't even think about making that joke next time. We don't want the February of 2015 repeating now, do we?"

My silence was the answer he needed, and he got it served hot from me.

I could punch him. But his response to that will knock me out cold. Fucking nomad.

________________

Amma was persistently talking about this girl. "Her name is Kalpana. She is so very lovely. She barely speaks, you know? I think that makes her more captivating. So many times I have watched suitors and mothers of suitors try and talk to her just so they could hear her voice but no! She would manage to communicate just by shaking or nodding her head. She obeys her mother so well, it makes other parents jealous for having such a disciplined child."

That made me scoff. Awaiting me for matrimony was another perfect child ruthlessly sculpted to turn into a sharp diamond. "So your friend raised a doll?"

Sarcasm is not the route I prefer but come on, I had to.

"A doll she is, but not the doll you're talking about. She is...oh never mind. You'll know when you see her yourself."

I don't know if it was me, but I seriously thought my mother was more excited than me to meet this Kalpana person as if she were the suitor and not me.

I wish she was wrong.

Actually, I don't.

I don't know.

I don't know anything at this point.

She truly was...something.

I hated cold, wet things as long as I could remember till I saw her walk in with that green coat, completely drenched, and yet so slow with every step she took, as if time itself would have risked it all just to adjust to her pace.

I regretted not looking at her photo when Ma insisted because now I couldn't see her face at all.

I wasn't desperate. I am not a desperate, lonely tech guy. And I'm not stupid to blindly find just anyone alluring.

Blame her scent for that.

Night Queens. I whiffed Night Queens in broad daylight as she passed by and it made me go blank.

I used to go on walks with Ma when I was a child and one corner of the colony was so very fragrant with Nightqueens once the sun went down, I would linger for a while till I had to force myself to leave.

And now I've discovered someone wearing Nightqueen perfume and it doesn't even smell artificial. It smells like the real thing, the same thing from my childhood!

The fact that she unlocked such a core memory for me made me very curious about her. So curious that when she had her wet hair pulled over her shoulder, blocking my view of her face, you could claim I felt the blood rush in my veins from excitement just by looking at the exposed skin of her nape.