Chapter 8: Rumours and Toads

Soon, our story spread. I was filled with joy, thinking we’d receive blessings, but unexpectedly, we became the target of classmates’ malice.

Whispers turned to rumours, and soon, even the canteen staff had an opinion about us. My stomach dropped every time someone stared too long.

It happened after PT period, when we went to the canteen together.

Sweaty from running laps, we bought cold Limca and two samosas. I didn't care about anything except being with her.

I quietly told her, "Yaar, just now while playing cricket, something happened…"

I leaned closer, lowering my voice so no one else would hear.

She looked puzzled.

Her nose crinkled in confusion, hair sticking to her forehead. 'Kya hua?' she asked.

"What happened?"

I scratched my head and blurted out:

I tried to laugh it off, but inside, I was mortified. 'I hope no one else saw,' I whispered.

"I ripped my pants."

She gasped, then covered her mouth to stop from laughing out loud.

She was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing.

Her laughter was infectious. Soon, I was laughing too, my embarrassment forgotten for a second.

I told her to stop, saying, 'Let’s eat first, I don’t want you to go hungry. I’ll find a seat, you get the food today.'

I gestured to the table by the window, trying to hide my torn trousers. She rolled her eyes and headed to the counter.

As always, she agreed cheerfully.

She grinned, 'Aree, tumhare pants phat gaye? Koi nahi, main le aati hoon samosa. Tum chup-chaap baitho.' She waved at the canteen uncle, placing the order with her usual smile. The sunlight caught in her hair, and I felt lucky just to know her.

But such a small thing—

One silly incident, but in our school, nothing stayed private for long.

Spread through the class, everyone knew.

By lunchtime, my ripped-pants story was the hottest gossip. Even the juniors smirked as I walked past.

'He’s not a real man, making a girl stand in the queue for food while he just sits and waits…'

The taunts stung, echoing in the corridors. 'Bada aaya hero banne!' someone shouted from the back.

'Did you hear? That guy in our class is such a jerk, always bullying Ananya, making her copy his homework and wash his tiffin dabba…'

They spun wild stories, exaggerating every small thing I did.

'Let me tell you, I heard that guy grew up in a single-parent family, has a weird temper…'

Whispers about my family floated through the air, sticking to me like burrs.

'I looked into it, his dad was a drunkard, abandoned the family, started a new one somewhere else…'

It hurt more than I expected—hearing my family's name dragged through the mud. Even Ananya's eyes clouded with worry.

'I also heard, back in middle school, he tried to get with a girl, tried to do something, the girl refused, so he slapped her, then transferred to our school…'

That last rumour spread like wildfire. Soon, even the teachers looked at me differently, suspicion in their eyes.

Even the chaiwala outside the school gate had an opinion—'Arrey, us ladke ka baap toh kab ka bhaag gaya tha, abhi yeh bhi kuch ulta seedha karega.'

Rumours of all kinds, each more twisted than the last, spread far and wide.

I tried to ignore it, but every snide comment felt like a slap. No one bothered to ask me the truth.

Naturally, I became everyone’s target.

Friends grew distant, girls avoided me, even the PT sir seemed to scowl at me more than usual.

I still remember, once while walking with Ananya on the school path, we ran into a few classmates.

They blocked our way, arms folded, smirks on their faces. I tried to keep my head up, but my palms were sweaty.

They didn’t bother hiding their contempt, saying with a sneer, 'Ananya, with your grace, how did you end up with such a toad, huh?'

That word—'toad'—echoed in my ears long after they left. I bit my lip to stop from crying.

Their words echoed in my head—'toad,' they called me. Even the stray dogs in the lane seemed to look at me with pity that day.

Even now, years later, that line still stings me.

Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I still hear their voices, feel the shame creeping back.

Many teachers believed the rumours and held a grudge against me.

The maths teacher stopped calling on me in class. The history sir looked through me as if I was invisible. Even the librarian stopped smiling at me.

My pride made me unwilling to defend myself.

I refused to explain, even when Ananya pleaded with me. I thought if I just waited, the rumours would fade.

From then on, I withdrew from people, like smoke drifting into the clouds.

I’d wander to the paan shop, buy a single Melody toffee, and sit on the broken swing, watching the kites tangle in the power lines.

I spent more time on the terrace, watching kites fight against the breeze, letting the sky swallow me whole.

That was when Kabir made his move, openly bringing Ananya breakfast, escorting her back to the hostel, without the slightest hesitation.

He flaunted his intentions, making sure everyone noticed. Sometimes, he'd even wink at me as he walked past with her.

He boldly tried to take her away.

He'd crack jokes, offer to help with assignments, carry her books. Teachers and classmates cheered him on, as if it was all just good fun.

Ananya wasn’t good at turning down kindness.

She'd thank him politely, but never outright refuse his offers. I couldn't blame her—she was too gentle to hurt anyone.

His pursuit grew more intense, and he gained the support of teachers and classmates alike.

Soon, he was sitting with her in the library, walking her to her rickshaw, even helping her set up project charts.

Just like that, he naturally became the one always by her side.

My stomach churned, remembering all the times he’d corrected my English in front of the whole class. Now he’d be correcting Ananya’s too. I watched helplessly as my place in her life shrank with every passing day.