Love Affair

Chapter 1: "Echoes of Change" "I promise to go to Japan, study, and work there!" I exclaimed, staring at the falling star. I was still a seven-year-old child who had just finished watching the Japanese anime movie 'Totoro'. I had always wanted to live an anime life, but I think none of the people in my village think like me. Because of my personality, they gave me a strange nickname, 'nincompoop'. Of course, the person who gave me this strange nickname is called 'Jeremiah'. His full name is 'Jeremiah Lalnunsanga'. Only Jerry and I got English names in the village of India's North East Mizoram State. Not only living in a village that is not even a city, it is not the villagers' fault for thinking that I'm stupid for dreaming of going to Japan. Both my parents and Jeremiah’s parents were the wealthiest in our village, but despite being rich, they are still stupid. I am the same age as Jeremiah, and when I was born, both my parents were very focused on naming me a pretty name. My mother wanted to name me Bamboo, but my father stopped her, and finally, my mother decided on a flower name for me. She named me ‘Cactus Lal Rinsangi’. However, my parents didn’t know that Cactus is a plant, not a flower. After naming me, the entire village who didn’t know what cactuses were thought my parents were amazing and thought my mother was a genius. I don’t think Jeremiah’s name is pretty either. Just two days after my birth, my grandfather traveled from the city to our village to catch a glimpse of me. Upon discovering my absurd name, he was incensed and promptly changed my English name to Megan. In the Mizo tradition, it's customary for some individuals to adopt English names as their first names, although not all Mizo people follow this practice. Those who do receive English names typically have three names: a first name, a middle name, and a last name. Jeremiah recounted, "Last night, a noisy bird was shouting that she was going to Japan." His words drew my classmates' attention, prompting them to crowd around him, eager to know more. Despite Jeremiah's reputation for being both dim-witted and impolite, he somehow managed to maintain a large circle of friends. Meanwhile, I considered smart and attractive and found solace in only one friendship. As Jeremiah's gaze fell upon me, he remarked, "The annoying bird is this nincompoop." The entire class turned their eyes towards me, erupting into laughter. It seemed Jeremiah relished in taunting me, likely stemming from our shared experience of being labeled by our parents. With a cold demeanor, I retorted, "Birds chirp, they don't shout." His embarrassment was palpable as he snapped back, "Shut up," clearly resenting my intellect. Sensing his discomfort, I pressed on, "How did you know it was me who shouted?" He smirked, "Only a fool like you would yell in the middle of the night." Our exchange was cut short by the arrival of our teacher, signaling the end of the class. As soon as the bell rang, I hurriedly exited the room and made my way home. Despite the turmoil of the day, I consoled myself with the thought that the weekend would bring respite, and by next week, this incident would be forgotten. However, I vowed silently to exact revenge on Jeremiah in the days to come. Unbeknownst to me, that encounter with Jeremiah marked our final interaction. The following morning, I awoke to the commotion of people gathering outside, peering through my window to see the crowd assembled at our neighbor's house—Jeremiah's home. Descending the stairs, I sought answers from my mother, who informed me of the news: Jeremiah's parents had parted ways, and he was bound to relocate to Aizawl City to live with his father. Shock washed over me, leaving me at a loss for words, yet amidst the tumult of emotions, I found a sense of relief creeping in. Even after Jeremiah and his father departed, Mrs. Sangliani thrived. Not only did she evade financial hardship, but she also seemed to blossom, her beauty radiating even more brightly than before. Seven years have slipped by since Jerry's departure, during which I transitioned to the middle class and anticipate entering high school next year. Life has settled into a peaceful rhythm for me. While I've excelled academically, I'm far from being the top student. As the years pass, my aversion to crowded places intensifies, leading me to retreat to the solace of my room, where I lose myself in manga or gaming. Though unconventional for a girl, I find solace and joy in this simple existence. Honestly, I dive into manga and games to get away from real life. When I'm alone, I feel safe because nobody is judging me or talking badly about me behind my back. Occasionally, I accompany my father to Aizawl, but the bustling crowds and incessant traffic only reinforce my preference for solitude. Despite my attractiveness, I've never been popular, especially among boys, who are put off by my eccentricities and aloof demeanor. One ordinary morning, on my way to school, I noticed men shifting belongings into Mrs. Sangpuii's house. Unconcerned, I continued on my path until I locked eyes with a familiar yet unfamiliar face among the workers. There was a nagging sense of recognition, although we had never formally met. His gaze met mine, his expression sour, and it dawned on me: he was Jeremiah, Mrs. Sangpuii's son. Shock reverberated through me, but I maintained composure, feigning ignorance as I passed by him and made my way to school. Arriving at school, my mind lingered on the unexpected encounter with Jeremiah. The transformation in him was striking; he had grown taller and appeared more mature and even more handsome, a far cry from the troublemaker I once knew. I'd become more antisocial, so I went ahead and cut my long black hair short, which now made me look like a comedian. And to top it off, my big eyes make me resemble an ugly cat even more. The murmurs in the classroom hinted at the curiosity surrounding his return. As I pondered his changed demeanor, my friend Zorini rushed over to share the latest gossip. "Did you hear? Jeremiah's back living with his mother," she exclaimed. Confirming her news, I recounted our encounter earlier. Zorini's astonishment was palpable as she probed further, eager for details. "Yes, I met him," I affirmed, prompting her to divulge the rumors swirling about his troubled past. According to hearsay, Jerry had been expelled from five schools and was now back under his mother's care. His reputation as a delinquent, notorious for his confrontations even with older students, preceded him. While his tumultuous history didn't surprise me, I remained indifferent; after all, his choices were his burden to bear. With the arrival of the teacher, the classroom fell into silence, and the lesson began.