Sorry, I Was on Mute

A short story about a not-so-idyllic childhood memory that comes full circle, by Binaifer Dulani, Creative Director

Kaira sat with her legs folded on her desk, as she furiously typed and backspaced, in the pursuit of a perfect mail that sounded polite yet assertive. Her long, golden streaked hair was tied up in a bun, and her state of mind seemed the opposite of her t-shirt slogan, ‘Think less, Stupid more.’

She wrote…

As discussed <backspace>
Like we spoke earlier :) <backspace, passive aggressive af>
I’m sure we’d all agree that <backspace, too leading>

As discussed, maybe we can simplify things by just communicating more often. Setting a calendar invite for a recurring meeting every Tuesday morning, for a five minute <back space> for a quick catch-up. Hope that works :) <backspace emoji> <erm, keep emoji>

‘Whatever,’ she muttered to herself and hit send.

Kaira’s phone pinged. It was a Facebook notification from Sejal that read, ‘Sejal has tagged you in a post.’

‘Who is Sejal?’, Kaira thought for a moment. Until she saw that Sejal had uploaded a class photograph from the year 2000. There they all stood height wise; a bunch of seven year olds. The girls had their hair neatly tied in pigtails, with their pinafores covering their knees, and their socks meeting the seam of their pinafores, ensuring no skin was revealed. The boys had their goofiest smiles on display. Something only K division boys did, much to the photographer’s dismay.

It all came back. Of course she knew Sejal. The girl who always got khakra in her dabba, topped with ghee and sugar.

The picture was captioned, ‘Which school memories do you still remember?’

Kaira thought to herself, ‘who even replies to lame shit like this anymore?’, but scrolled through the comments anyway.

Rajeshwari wrote: Oh the rugby matches. I remember we had all torn @Madhur’s shirt! Hahahaha! Those were the days.

Madhur: Hahaha abhi yaad hai mujhe! Ghar pe bahut daant mili thi!

Shweta: Who remembers the school anthem? :P

Neha: Me! Me! Me!

Shubham: I remember faking a headache to bunk class and sleep in the counselling room!

Ravi: Shivam ka sandwich and Rita ma’am saying, ‘Dawnt act ovur smahart.’

The comments actually made Kaira nostalgic. She thought about what she would write, even though she would never actually comment.

Cut to seven-year-old Kaira in class. She raises her hand to give an answer. The teacher had asked ‘what are some of the ways birds are useful to nature?’ Kaira wanted to say, ‘dispersal of seeds.’ The teacher pointed at Kaira and she answered promptly. But the teacher, Meha Ma’am, looked at her and said, ‘Say it loudly baba.’ Kaira said it again. The teacher laughed and held an imaginary remote in her hand and said, ‘Eh, where is the button to unmute?’
The class laughed.

‘I’m increasing the volume, still it’s stuck there only.’

The class laughed louder. Meha ma’am moved to the next student. No one said dispersal of seeds as their answer.

For all of that week, whenever Kaira spoke, someone held an imaginary remote and pretended to increase the volume.

Kaira thought about the time when her math teacher asked her, ‘are you a new student?’ It was the end of the second semester. And then, the math teacher flippantly went back to her black board.

None of that was worth typing though. Maybe she would just comment with, ‘Sev puriiiii during recess.’ She shut her tab, only to realise it was 7 p.m. already. She had to be at her best friend’s place in an hour. Sabina had delivered her second child, a boy, a month back. And she had called a bunch of them over to feel ‘normal’ again.

Sabina and Kaira had become friends almost instantly at work. And they became friends just like how anyone at work ever became Kaira’s friend. She just respected Sabina’s work and brilliance so much, it made her break out of her shell to want to know her more. Even if that meant making the first move.

Kairs thought, ‘What do you carry for a second-time new mom?’

‘Chocolates, foot rubs, lip masks. sheet masks… easy.’

When Kaira arrived, the gang was already there. Sipping their beers, dunking chips in dip, and making plans that they would all eventually cancel.

Sabina suggested, ‘Guys, guys, it’s been so long.. Let’s play a game. We go in a circle and everyone says one major thing that’s been up with them over the last few months. Mera toh uss crib mein so raha hai…’

Typical Sabina. Organized fun. In clockwise movement. She loved Sabina for that.

Sarita said, “So there are talks of me getting a proper step up. I dare say, I might be moving to Singapore.”

Cue the group oohing and ahing.

Vinod went next, “So Priya and I finally called it quits. It was getting toxic, yaar. So I’m now on Tinder… and my bio reads, ‘Tea person. 2 spoons of milk. Lots of ginger. Like a lot lot. No sugar. Reads. All things culture and philosophy. Looking for any place that serves vegan schnitzel. And someone who wants to give something solid a shot.”

Cue the group saying, ‘aw that’s so you, so sweet, how’s it going…’

Sarita interrupted, “Bahut direct hai, daara mat. We’ll work on it.”

Cue the group laughing.

Anuj, “Yaar, I legit can’t think of a single thing. But I binge watched ‘Four More Shots’, and kaafi epic show tha. I recommend it to you all. The future is female.”

Cue the group laughing again.

Sabina’s six y/o joined the scene in the living room, to give her mom a good night’s kiss.

Sabina said, ‘Say hi to everyone Khushu…’

Khushu nervously buried her head in her mom’s arm and said, ‘Hi everyone.’
The group cued, ‘Hi Khushu… such a big girl you have become… love your pyjamas Khushu…’

Sabina said, ‘Khushu, recite that poem you wrote to welcome the baby. Everyone will love it.’

The group cued, ‘Yes, we want to listen, go Khushu go,’ as if Khushu were the Backstreet Boys in their heyday.

Khushu stood nervously and recited,

‘Little baby, when will you come out?
I am waiting and waiting to play with you,

To sing and shout…’

Sandip said, ‘What happened Khushu… mumma didn’t give you food today?’

Khushu was caught off guard, and she said meekly, ‘Sorry?’

Kaira stepped in and said, ‘He’s trying to say, you’re reciting the song with so much grace… Softly and beautifully. Just like it should be. Go on, go on…’

Khushu smiled her widest smile, her missing teeth on full display, as she continued the poem. Needless to say Kaira cheered the loudest when she took a bow. And shot Sandip a stare that made his spine tingle.