eFiction India eFiction India Vol.02 Issue.09 | Page 41

STORIES

as he guided me to hide with him behind
those bushes. One generally trusts someone
older to be creatively amazing in coming up
with the most interesting places to hide. It
has always been so.
“Sami, what are you doing here? Mummy’s
calling you. Go.” Kabir Mamu called, one
hand on the back of the unicorn.
“Papa! We’re hiding. Go away, he’ll catch
us,” Sami whispered, motioning him to
keep moving.
“Sami! Go, bête, I will hide with her if you
want. Go. Mummy’s calling.”
Sami muttered something and got up as his
father squeezed down and got closer to hide
with me. He smiled cheekily and I smiled
back, no one was going to find us here after
all. We waited; the smiles still in the air.
He held my hands, and peeked from behind
the bush. He cupped my cheeks, and
stroked my hair. I had always liked Mamu.
His hands agilely went up to my then barely
developed breasts, caressed them and gradually stroked my thighs. I shrugged a little
then, for I felt slightly uncomfortable.
“You’ve grown up quite a bit haven’t you,
Sara,” he said, whilst he put his hands on
my waist.
“Mhmm,” I replied unknowingly.
I felt strange, I shrugged and he stopped
but it felt weirdly eerie, darkly unsettling.
Sometimes you don’t need someone to tell
you what is right or what is wrong, the
feeling within is deep enough to convince
you.
He smiled cheekily, and I smiled back as I
viewed Sami standing at the distance. As a
kid it was funny to see my cousin secretly,
not listening to their parents’ conversations.
But, sometimes it wasn’t listening that mattered. It was observing.

friends did. Having a boyfriend always
meant there was going to be physical
touch, and I was too fearful of that. The
typical family reunion continued, year
after year. Kabir Mamu always looked at
me in a strange manner, leering, I figured
later. His eyes and the unsolicited showing
of teeth held me back every time he came
close. I was growing up and my instincts
and consciousness were only growing stronger, maturity came dawning. I didn’t smile
at him anymore; I could barely look him in
the eye. The thought, the inadvertent sensation of his touch back then would still come
back to me every time I touched myself. I
felt like a stranger to my own body, because
I felt I had betrayed it. I remember when
my mother was trying on a piece of clothing on me and I shivered a little away as she
touched me. “Don’t be shy, silly girl,” she
said. I wasn’t being shy. But she wouldn’t
know, no one would know.
We were at the farmhouse in Alibagh, again,
like always. It was nearing midnight, the
aunties and uncles were sharing stories over
drunken laughter while I was sitting in one
of the first floor rooms, alone, spending
time with my books. Snuggling up in bed
with an old hardback parchment-smelling
book, and a loose nightie draped over, is
my fondest of all fondest memories. I still
remember the aqua-blue nightie and the
copy of Tom Sawyer from that day.
The door opened and Sami walked into the
room. I shot up to sit modestly and put on
the blanket over my thighs.
“Hi there,” he said smiling.
We had lost touch gradually as we were
growing up. Hide and seek was a thing of
the past, or was it really?
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I asked,
my love for my privacy and my time, shattered. Briefly, I hoped.

***

“Well I just wanted to chill you know,” he
said as he came and sat on my bed, yawning
as if this was normal.

Ten years had passed. I was in college in
the United States, st Ց她