The Last Bench

Someone grabbed me by the arms and dragged me into a darkened classroom as I walked quickly through the long college corridor... The sound of the door slamming from inside scared me and I jumped up from the ground and ran aimlessly. The fear in my chest and dark visions made my tongue knotted. In no time, strong arms enveloped me and pressed me against someone's strong chest... A familiar masculine scent fills her nostrils... His lips grazed my bottom lips deeply before trying to peck... Melting all over in the heat of the burning kiss... When my body was too weak to resist and was ready to collapse, his arms were tightened and held me tighter... I felt the blood splatter on the lips freed from the warmth of the long kiss... I blamed myself for being too weak to resist an adult touching and kissing me without permission... "You are mine... only mine... No one will give up..." The words from his lips, which were imprinted on my forehead again, gave way to feelings that I did not have... He was caressing my shivering body held close to his chest... "Didn't you wish for just this one moment... Didn't you long to stay in the warmth of this body... Didn't your lips yearn for his kiss..."" Questions burning in my heart surrounded me... Startled from my dream, I pulled my eyes open...I was looking for glimpses of the white dream with the faint light peeking through the gap in the window panes...I knew that a smile was on my lips and the red spots of shame were spreading on my cheeks... At that moment, I did not remember that this daydream that came in unconsciously had anything to do with my life. ""Pavi.. dear..."" My mother is trying to wake me up by calling loudly from the kitchen because it is usually late... I got up from the bed and spread the blanket and walked to the kitchen...there my mother Sita Devi is busy with the pots and the smoke curls that do not catch fire on the wet wood... After wiping her eyes on the head of the girl she saw, she poured black tea into a glass and handed it to me... I bought it with a smile, remembering the fact that the reason for my mother's watery eyes was not the smoke from the unburnt wood in the stove... A thousand comforting words were packed in that one smile... "If you take the eight o'clock bus, you'll be able to get there on time..." My mother's voice awakened my thoughts...Hesitantly I frowned and looked at my mother and saw resentment in her eyes... "Oh my dear, how long will it take you to get a good job these days without even a degree..." I was unable to say a word of consent wholeheartedly and had already surrendered to my mother's hopeful mind... Seeing a picture of a handsome young man hanging on the wall took me back to that past life when my memory was filled with joy... Two years ago, the lifeless body of my son, who was covered with water and laid on this threshold, filled my mind with memories. The bike on which father and Etan were traveling fell into a lorica that went out of control. We had to mortgage this small house at Kannaya place and all the surrounding farmland to the bank to treat my father...we did not feel like leaving this eight-bed land to many people who came to buy it at a price of gold... Father would be melting himself and praying to God to take this life back without causing further pain to his wife and daughter... Since then, my mother and I have been supporting this family through many hardships... It was known that a skilled cook was needed in the kitchen of Devarmath, a well-known ancestral home in the country When my mother started working there, I also left my studies and started working as a sales girl in a nearby supermarket... Between starvation and famine, mother had the shame of being a kitchen maid... My mother and I are living with the comfort that we will get the income to pay the interest in the bank every month...and my father's treatment is different... It was after Plus 2 that these life-changing events took place in our lives... I have always been bad at learning and had no interest in learning... Having barely passed Plus Two Science, I wanted to work in a different field...I also inherited my mother's cooking skills from there. My desire to pursue further studies in the field of cooking and create a world of new flavors was a joke to those listening, but it remained a desire within me... At that time, when she got angry with fate and rushed forward, my mother started to feel guilty that she should make her daughter at least a degree student, and that she has not reached anywhere in life. That's how my mother forced me to organize another part-time job for the time being from this year and just try to apply for a degree. Too bad to study long ago...now it's two years after plus two... I temporarily surrendered to my mother's wishes, believing that I, who barely passed, would not get admission in even a single college without donating. Agreed... I was relieved that I did not get admission in the first allotments, but my heart sank for the first time at my mother's disappointment... When I informed my mother that I would buy a seat through donation with the money from the sale of the thalimala, which is still kept in the memory of my father, I was defeated again in front of my mother's mind... In front of the mother's pain about her daughter, God's invisible hands are working there. But again I was threatened B.A. When I came to know that the admission notice was for "Communicative English"...I hated myself for my lack of knowledge of English language...I was overwhelmed by the thought of how to get out of this pit... In front of my mother Sita Devi's counseling that nothing is impossible if you try, I was ready to make an effort... Today is the first day of college... There was no place in my life for luxurious living or wishful thinking...my mother and I were struggling to make ends meet... My father's pains are increasing day by day, but there are no more doors to knock in search of money for treatment... When I look at the voids below the knees where both my legs were crushed in an accident, I am reminded of my father who carried me on his shoulder and hurriedly walked across the street to see the festival when I was young... It was unbearable even to see the present condition of my father, who was a good farmer and a healthy man who was working in the field and on the ridge... Sometimes I can't bear the sadness and cry softly and cling to his chest for comfort. .When I took a bath, I left to wash off all the oil from my hair... I signed the oil flowing down both sides of my forehead... I wrote black ink on my eyes... There was nothing left as jewelry, but a single earring bought by Kathil Etan... and a necklace tied on a black string around my neck awakened elegance in me. When fate painted black over the desires, even the own body was forgotten and the time when all the makeup was worn... As my eyes drifted to myself, a sense of inferiority weighed heavily on my mind... In this kolam where four people meet.. Isn't it today... I felt sorry for myself that I would be a burden in front of a society that values ​​dignity by being well-dressed... I reprimanded the unnecessary thoughts that were accumulating... I went to my father's room praying that I would be able to live without cotton for a single meal... Seeing my father lying like a skeleton on the bed, I was saddened, but I snatched those hands and put them to my lips... Had I been healthy today, I would have been my father's princess...maybe because my tears fell on my hands, my father slowly opened his eyes...everything was there in that one look... My mother's muffled moans, heard from beyond the doorway, doubled my pain... Dad understands everything even though he can't speak...Mum sits and talks with Dad for hours... By the time she came out after saying good bye, mother put the bowl of rice inside and closed the bag and handed it to me... I took it in my hand and hugged her tightly... along with the heat of her kiss on my forehead, the tears fell on my cheeks... I wiped the ink on my face on the head of Neryath... I said goodbye to my mother with my eyes and left... I stepped down the cobblestones and turned towards the alley, I heard my mother's long call from behind saying pallavi. my sweet poor mom comes running with an empty Pepsi bottle filled with cumin water... "Da dear, mother forgot to take the water and keep it...let's drink the water from the pipe..."" My mother's words were slurred by sobs...I felt a stabbing pain inside my chest seeing that face, pale with sweat and vulnerability... Seeing me hesitantly looking at my mother, she opened the zip of the bag and put the bottle inside... "My mother, not in the old days, you can get good filtered water in all big colleges... and that's not enough for this old bag to carry the weight of one liter of water..." I said it in a funny way with a smile and that face was filled with sadness... "Oh, Ammakutti is upset, wasn't I just kidding...Sitakutti didn't give her the money to buy the bag, I was the one who said no to it...Well now I have to look at what I said as a big joke...you hear.." I said it looking at my mother, who was silently looking at my old bag, which had started to turn gray like little children, and I saw a smile on the corner of her lips and my heart was full... I walked down the path, stepping on the wet charcoal leaves from the rain that fell at night, and went down to Padavarampa... After a while, the towering Devarmat, the steps and the walls came into my view... After Makarakoy, the fields are spread as far as the eye can see...more than half of this village belongs to Devarmath...it is the grace of Devarmath that helps all the farming families... Crossing the ridges and crossing the dirt road, I quickly walked to the bus stop... Rain water was standing on all sides on the road...the pavement was in a very bad condition due to the wet soil and mud... I was walking carefully with my churidar top and pant slightly raised. A bullet whizzed in this direction and crossed the speed limit and splashed mud and dirt all over my body....the splashed mud and water stuck to my face and the front part of the churidar...I became motionless for a moment...slowly opened my closed eyes and looked helplessly around... Many people who are walking here and there have a mixture of smile and sympathy on their lips... At the same time, I saw the person who ran away with the bullet at a high speed, slowed down and looked at my condition... If a hand had been placed in front of him earlier, I would have stopped him in my same situation today... Although I would not dare to do anything like that in this life, I did not know in this state and thought like that.. I will never forget those lash-filled eyes I saw through the helmet......why revenge....I felt sorry for myself... His costume is a black shirt and a white shirt...I can't see him because he is wearing a helmet, but I felt something attractive in those eyes and gaze...Even when my thoughts stopped, he went far away and hid... "Oh, Molki, what's the matter...let's go inside the house, wash off all this dirt and leave..." Bhamechi from the next house of the reading room felt sorry for my condition and extended a helping hand...I walked with them with a dry smile...I put all the blame on the head of fate for all these problems that come in the way of any good thing... The bus named Butterfly at 8:30 stopped a long way from the bus stop...people hang around after the last step of the door... There was no need to travel by bus every day for so long... I only had to walk to work at the supermarket... now I have to get used to this.. Somehow got to college. As it was the last allotment, the classes started days before... The ancient buildings and classrooms, the shaded gulmohar and the blood-colored flowers on the sidewalks, the posters on the walls showing the college politics, filled me with glimpses of the college imagination that I had forgotten to read... By the time I found the English department and reached there, it was ten o'clock... From the front compartment of the bag I carefully took out an old Nokia torch mobile phone with a rubber band tied around it and put it back after checking the time... If the archeologists see it, it will also be lost... but I am not afraid of the shame that anyone will see it... When I read the small board on the wall of the classroom door that read First DC Communicative English, I underlined that my destination was… I realized that a small fear of what I don't know was enveloping me... as if I suddenly couldn't adjust my mind to that classroom full of students and this completely unfamiliar environment... I was filled with inferiority complex as if I could not face so many people... With a little preparation I took a deep breath and plucked up the courage… Sir... My feeble voice drifted into the silent classroom with a small hum... I was aware that about sixty pairs of eyes were on me in an instant... A young teacher leaning on the side of the desk in the classroom heard my voice and turned her head towards the door... "Yes come in...." I slowly stepped inside with fear and looked at the teacher's face... Maybe the teacher smiled at me after understanding the difficulty of facing so many new people... Later that smile disappeared and suddenly their eyes were staring at me... The front of the churidar was partially soaked, the mud that did not move, the ink that had spread over the eyes, and the oil that had flowed onto the forehead. I knew they were looking at my completely deformed form... As I tilted my head, I watched helplessly as the faces of all the other students filled with contempt, pity and scorn.... It can be seen in the expressions of some people whether such births remain in this century too. .. A sense of inferiority gripped me and started suffocating me... This is how I am and I can only be like this… I took a breath and braced myself… I painfully realized that the serious face and eyes staring down at me at the end of the last bench in the row of boys belonged to the man who had unknowingly been the cause of his condition a few hours earlier... I swelled up like salt wind in the blisters of wounded pride..... I painfully realized that the serious face and eyes staring down at me at the end of the last bench in the row of boys belonged to the person who had unknowingly caused my condition a few hours before... I swelled up like salt wind in the blisters of wounded pride... The teacher must have seen my pitiful condition and said in a low voice "Take your seat" without making me any more a showpiece... Hearing that, my eyes scanned every corner of that huge classroom to find the edge of any bench to sit comfortably... Girls are placed in two rows of benches arranged in three rows and boys in one row... I understand that there are around 60 children in this class... I walked there fixing in my mind a seat in the last bench of girls next to the row of boys...even then I felt embarrassed to see every student in the classroom watching my antics... A boy who smiled at the two girls sitting on the bench and was ready to sit at the end, looking at me disapprovingly, took her bag from the desk and placed it on the empty end of the bench... Although it was not the first time the humiliation of rejection, I felt a pain in my heart... I am the only one, I am the only one... Am I that bad... My thoughts went wild... I was confused as to what to do... How to approach a teacher for such trivial things... to complain that "this boy didn't give me space"...am I the only one who is small there too...thoughtfully I looked to the side of the boys and the bullet guy who splashed me with mud in the morning was sitting alone on the last bench near the wall... What if I sit at this end of his bench...I, as a girl, sit with a young man in the classroom and the evil mind of morality rises in others... Aren't such girls bad... Without thinking back and forth, I ordered both and without wasting time, I sat at one end of his bench. That's when I noticed him stabbing something on the desk without even looking at me. When I saw "Sooraj" written in blue ink on the desk in modern art, I was sure it was his name... I just repeated that name in my mind...I must have memorized the name that I was familiar with for the first time among my classmates.... As we sat like others on two poles of a bench, I remember him looking up... After doing so much and putting me in this crucible, the wicked man does not even feel guilty.... A good looking mature young man...never feel like a 1st year degree student... Looks like a teacher at a glance... thick mustache and extended chin... expressionless and serious on the face He has a strong athletic body... If you tell him about a girl wearing a shirt and shirt, she will stare at him without taking her eyes off. Like a single branch that is so proud... The teacher Anuradha who is the class attendant was with us now and she was telling us that she is teaching the subject "Phonetics"...I really felt like I had arrived in America or something and only English was spoken around...I didn't understand anything but I guessed and filled everything with some words I heard and understood here and there.... "Introduce Yourself" The teacher came a little forward and looked at me and said, I jumped and got up in shock as if thunder had struck my head... Only then did Suraj look at me because of the shaking of the bench... I got the feeling of church... "My name is Pallavi...." "This is not a Malayalam class, try to speak in English..." As I started speaking naturally in Malayalam, I was suddenly silenced when the teacher's voice rose up interrupting me... It was a big hurdle for me... I don't know how to speak English properly... I studied visual arts and wrote an English essay and won. It was like picking stones with my trunk... But I can't worry my classmates who are sitting around with contempt and more than eager to know about me... "My name is Pallavi Chandra Prathap... I am coming from Kalthurthi... My Father Name Chandrapratap... My Mother Name Sita Devi... I Study Plus Two in Government Higher Secondary School Kalthurthi..."" Somehow I ignored the many scornful eyes that looked at me like Vicky Vicky was a UKG kid... When he looked at Sooraj, he was looking away with a smile on his lips and his eyes were fixed... for some reason, a new feeling woke up in his chest... "Okay sit down pallavi..." Anuradha teacher understood my condition without asking anything more... I felt like I was humiliated in front of some people...I was not meant for, the thought that this is not a place for my talent and ability took root in me...When I remembered my mother, I wanted to study and win anyway... On that day, each period got to know many different teachers and subjects... Since it was a week since the class started, almost all the subjects were taught... I didn't understand anything, but I sat and gave it as if I was in a dream world.. When it was break time The person next to me got up and went somewhere, pretending that I am not from this country....I felt like he was walking alone. A rude person who doesn't talk to anyone... I didn't get up from where I was sitting...this kolam didn't seem to show the locals yet...some of them laughed at me...boys came closer and got to know each other... Anil, Riaz, Mithun, Christy.... Mithun felt that he was in a brilliant group. Adiyetan asked me that by lowering the glass of the driver's seat and smiling at me, I walked towards him... "Aditya Varma" is the elder son of the great sir of Devarmath... "Aditya Varma" is running their own companies in the town...He is like a friend to me...He is good looking and has a good character... "It's going well Adibro..." I said with a smile, "Come on, I'll drop you, get in..." bro said... I politely declined and said goodbye... Now if the locals see me, this pallavi is with the unmarried little boy of Devarmat, so that they can make up a new story. A green man without distinction of poor, rich or maid... He climbed the cobblestones to the house and saw his mother sitting on the threshold...mother is too lazy to go to work leaving father alone... I assumed that the mother must have left the house next door as there was no other option... When I told my mother about the first day of college, she had heard everything like a story... I got ready to go to the supermarket after taking a shower. TO BE CONTINUED