THEN

The day I score more than 62 on maths, the sun will rise from west and the world will come to its demise. Probably that's why the whole universe conspires against me to keep me from reaching it.

I sat like a man defeated in the battle of life, holding the piece of paper which just caused an acute malfunction in my whole anatomy.

My eyes zeroed in on the word "Mathematics" and then followed the line right to the number.

09.

My ninth-grade final exam maths score. I have been planning to crack the JEE with this.

Nice joke.

09? Seriously? Look, I'll be honest, math and I have a straight-up bloody rivalry. I know I had to memorize answers just to get through the common questions. But even if I assume that every single thing I tried to memorize was totally wrong... my internal assessment score alone should have pulled me up to at least a 10.

What the hell did they do to my answer paper?

I felt like pressing my hand to cover my mouth and cry as if my husband had died. But that couldn't be possible for two reasons.

One, I didn't have a husband who could die, I wasn't even sure I was ever gonna have one, I mean, who 's gonna marry a girl who keeps failing in math exams like first grade?

Second and most important, the amount of tears I shed just a week ago, the night before the maths test, was enough to keep fish happily alive in a big ass aquarium. Just the thought of crying as the back of my eyes burned sent triggers to my system.

"Tara, where are you lost? You must be ranking, let me see." My friend Roshni nudged me and took the paper out of my hand, but the moment she did that, someone snatched it from her. I looked up.

Tanya Joshi. One of the greatest and cheapest 'Pick me' I have ever seen. God, not now.

"Why hide Tara, let's see how extraordinary our top meritorious student Tara's results ca– OH MY..." She shrieked, fake though, and I internally slapped my head, and at the same time, I heard Roshni fight back a loud UGHH with an exhale. There's gonna be a big boss season 9 edition of Tanya Joshi now.

"MY GOD, Tara, you only got 09 in maths?" She exclaimed as if the paper insulted her beauty. Gasps and huh's floated in the air as every pair of eyes found me.

Ghatiya Nautankiwali.

"Why, Tara, why? Were you busy crying for the boy's attention instead of studying? I had so many high hopes for you. What is going to happen now? How are you going to give the finals, huh?" I swear she could win Dramatic? No, 'Over Dramatic Mother of the Year' if she joined 'Star Plus'.

"Jiska hain wo dekh lega, Tum hato Tanya." Roshni now stood up, trying to take the result card back, but she moved farther back.

"Roshni, why are you talking to me like this? I am just expressing my concern–"

I muttered, 'Concern ki maa,' and finally took a step forward, giving her an ultimatum with my eyes:** You better back off and hand my damn report card over if you want to be safe.

But the reality was miles away from that silent threat. I was genuinely not the type to get involved in anything close to a violent confrontation or ugly fight, with anyone, male or female. Most people in my family occasionally called me mute because of my introverted nature and my strict abstinence from most crowds where I sensed more than fifty percent of the people were unknown to me.

There's a reason my family had to keep me in mind before choosing a bloody action movie for our family movie nights.

This time, Roshni came forward and gave the card back to me after taking it from her. "Thank you so, so, so much for almost real Concern, Tanya. Now get back to your place and continue experimenting with ideas from your book 'How to Chase Boys 101'." Tanya turned red from embarrassment as the classroom was filled with low-satire giggles.

"Tara, tu Jake dekh, koi galti bhi ho sakti hain." I nodded, I could be bad, not bad, probably worst at maths, get 50/40/30, even twenty, but not 09. It doesn't make sense.

I walked up to the teacher's room where Mr Ahuja, who usually handled these final mark checkings, was busy convincing his pregnant wife on video call to eat one more apple slice.

"Baby, Jaan, one more—" he paused, taking a long drink from his water bottle.

But the water caught in his throat—he choked—the instant he looked up and spotted me standing rigid before his desk. My expression must have been lethal; I looked as though I'd just caught him murdering someone.

In sudden shock, he spat out the water. At the same time, the bottle in his hand jerked violently upward. Since I was standing directly in the line of fire, the inevitable happened: I was instantly drenched, water showering my face and uniform.

Kiski mu Dekhi thi uthne ke bad...

I wiped a hand down my face, calmly, and slid the card on the desk towards him; even his brows furrowed, absorbing the scenery in front of him.

"There must be something wrong, sir. Maybe I failed, but I didn't get 9. If that really happened, let me see my answer paper then." I finally managed to speak the words, almost on the verge of breaking. I was barely holding back my tears.

"Ah, I think so. Don't worry, beta, I will check it now, and beta, sorry for the water," he said with an apologetic smile. But my mental situation was in a far worse phase to even think about that.

"Get it fixed today, before the classes are over, sir. I can't go home with this." Now two tears slid down my cheeks.

"Aha, baccha rote nahi, go to your classroom. I am seeing what happened." He patted my head.

❃

I stared at my reflection in the restroom mirror. My lips were a washed-out, sickly white, and a heavy layer of darkness consumed my eyes, making them look sunken. All this damage was earned in a single night, spent battling a fever induced by the sheer dread of sitting for a math test.

Now, tears flowed freely. A severe headache ripped across my skull, and I fell, momentarily losing control. Oh God, I still have two classes left. Get yourself together, Nayan. I wrestled back my composure, quickly washed my face, and returned to the classroom.

I wasn't truly present until our class teacher walked in, holding a new paper—not a report card, but some kind of copy.

"Attention students," she announced, "we have a very important correction to make. The recorded mark for Nayantara Jindal's math paper was simply incorrect."

The moment I heard the word "incorrect," a ragged breath escaped my lips. My entire body, unknowingly coiled tight, immediately went limp with relief.

I looked at Mrs. Chauhan. She had just been saved from getting metaphorically butchered at my house tonight. I felt a surge of relief that she was the one who came with the news. I always feel this inexplicable need to remain in her good graces, to please her. Oh, wait. I do know.

She is my grandmother's best friend's second daughter-in-law.

Yep, that's right. All my elder cousins and siblings had passed out from this school, and Mrs. Chauhan was essentially the one designated to keep a watchful eye on all of us. Now, I was the only one left under her supervision.

"It's 60, which became 09 for technical malfunction. We sincerely apologise for this." She glared at Mr. Ahuja, who looked at her with the same apologetic look he gave me earlier. It didn't work on her, but her eyes kind of softened for a second when she caught my pale face.

"Get back to your study, students." She headed out of the classroom, and I sighed in relief.

60 it is, still I couldn't go higher than 62, no matter how hard I tried. It was like a curse, which I couldn't lift. There was still a small lecture waiting for me at home, I guess.

Mein kya karun main Pagal ho jati hun maths ke bare me jab bhi soch ti hun...Kya Hoga Mera...

❃

I came home, totally busted.

"Nayan, beta, aja Maine kheer banai hain chakh le."

"Haan taru, aja, main bohot kam to kha Rahi hun par yeh bohot tasty hain." My elder sister, Khushi Di, chirped.

"Bad mein dadi." I dismissed them. Dadi's face became pouty as she bent and whispered something into my elder sister, Khushi di's ears, something I shouldn't hear. But in that moment Dadi's phone rang.

"Are meri best friend ne call kia hain, Khushi beta, jake thodi chai le aa mere liye, chai pite pite bat karenge apni pyarri saheli se." dadi said and my heartbeat stopped for a second. Best friend? That means Mrs. Chauhan's mother in law.

Dhet! Dimaag kharap ho jayegi meri sochte sochte.

I went upstairs, took a shower, and put on a dull, dead yellow t-shirt, matching my mood, with white trousers.

I was looking dull, great, cuz that's how I'm feeling.

Back downstairs, each one of my beautiful joint family sat, occupying the whole living room. I had the copy of my corrected result folded inside my pocket; the actual one would get time to be printed.

"Aree agayi hamari Nayan, school kaisa tha aaj?" Yashwant chachu asked and I froze for a second before nodding, "Achhi thi."

"Oho, aaj to results day thi na, Nayan?" asked my cousin Surya bhai the moment we took our seats on the dining table. This man is always more than ready to tease me or anyone else, no matter how much he cares for us. He just loves putting people on the spot, especially when he knows it's like throwing them into a river filled with crocodiles.

Every pair of eyes turned towards me.

Bacha lo mujhe bhagwan.

"What are your results, Baccha?" Now Dad asked. "87%," I answered, looking at my plate, and everyone made a noise of satisfaction at hearing this. But then my sister made her statement, which was more like a question, "Maths?" That made everyone stop and refocus on me.

"Ab bas bhi kar, 87% layi hain meri bacchi ne kinti mahnat se, phir kyu ye saari bateein-"

"60." I didn't let Dadi finish. Silence, a very annoying one. Each passing second made the back of my eye turn warmer.

A cough, fake, made by my dad now. My saviour. "So, what? Next time it will be better. We will change the current coaching and find a new one where there will be a far better teacher for my Nayan to guide her to get more marks in maths." And there it goes, my 33rd Math teacher changes.

Congrats to me.

Well, I know my dad wants the best for me, but the other subjects are completely okay at my present academy.

Before I could protest, my mother joined. " What's the benefit of changing teachers every once in a while? How can she get accustomed to every new teacher and their teaching that quickly? It's a waste of time. Besides, all the past teachers we brought before weren't at fault; we should think about something else."

She was right. The problem wasn't the teachers; it was me. I had either a math-intolerant brain or I had potential (non-existent currently, by the way), but I couldn't unlock it. I would really love to stick to reason B.

"Par agar-" My dad started, but closed his mouth as soon as he caught mom glaring.

"Main apni aurek dost ko phone laga-" My elder brother, Siddharth also started along with my sister- "I need to find the perfect nail polish shade for this situation."

" Beta, real-life incident ke liye bhi koi shade ho sakta hain kya?" Now Sulekha Chachi.

"Why nottt? For situations like this we could use Neon Coral/ Hot Pink with-"

"Are Kya Shuru Kiya hain tum-" One of the sensible members of the family, my Harshil Chachu started finally but Sulekha Chachi's pout made him change his words. "-Pyaari lag Rahi ho, rone se make-up kharab ho Jayega. Khana Khao?"

Surya bhai, Khushi di, Siddharth bhai all shared a same look, shaking their with a smile

Woah. Kya family hain mera.

"AB SAB LOG BAS KARO." My Dadi's voice silenced everyone, love you Dadi, my favorite savior.

"Bahut hua, ab hum jo kahenge, wahi hoga." Everyone including me looked at her, curious.

"Hum apni Nayan ko aise nahi dekh sakte, Isiliye Humne apni saheli se baat ki hain, Uski beta Karthik ka bada beta Anirudh Videsh se wapas ayi hain. Wo jab tak is desh me hain, tab tak humari Nayan ko Maths padhaygi." Dadi concluded and everyone looked at each other and then nodded unitedly, "Thik hain Maa."

I remained rooted to my chair, looking at Dadi. Saviour turned into killer. It was technically equal to be sentenced to death by hanging.

Ani–rudh?

Anirudh Chauhan?

Matlab, Chauhan group ki CEO?

Matlab, Mrs. Chauhan ka beta?

Matlab wo Aku-Pakdu-Gussa nak pe rehne wali- Mr. Chirchira?

Bhagwan mujhe please bacha lo.

########

The day I score more than 62 on maths, the sun will rise from west and the world will come to its demise. Probably that’s why the whole universe conspires to keep me from reaching it.

I sat like a man defeated in the battle of life, holding the piece of paper which just caused an acute malfunction in my whole anatomy. 

My eyes zeroed in on the word "Mathematics" and then followed the line right to the number.

09.

My ninth-grade final exam Math's score. I have been planning to crack the JEE with this.

Nice joke.

 09? Seriously? I may have a bloody rivalry with maths, and I may also have memorised as much Maths as I could and answered when the question was common. Let’s assume all my memorised maths was wrong, but still, the internal assessment alone would get me 10 at least.

 What the hell happened to my answer paper!

I felt like pressing my hand to cover my mouth and cry as if my husband had died. But that couldn't be possible for two reasons.

 One, I didn’t have a husband who could die, I wasn’t even sure I was ever gonna have one, I mean, who ‘s gonna marry a girl who keeps failing in math exams like first grade? 

Second and most important, the amount of tears I shed just  a week ago, the night before the maths test, was enough to keep fish happily alive in a big ass aquarium. Just the thought of crying as the back of my eyes burned sent triggers to my system.

“Tara, where are you lost? You must be ranking, let me see.” My friend Roshni nudged me and took the paper out of my hand, but the moment she did that, someone snatched it from her. I looked up.

Tanya Joshi. One of the greatest and cheapest Pick me I have ever seen. God, not now. 

“Why hide Tara, let's see how extraordinary our top meritorious student Tara's results ca– OH MY…” She shrieked, fake though, and I internally slapped my head, and at the same time, I heard Roshni fight back a loud UGHH with an exhale. There's gonna be a big boss season 9 edition of Tanya Joshi now.

“MY GOD, Tara, you only got 09 in maths?” She exclaimed as if the paper insulted her beauty. Gasps and huh’s floated in the air as every pair of eyes found me.

Ghatiya Nautankiwali.

“Why, Tara, why? Were you busy crying for the boy's attention instead of studying? I had so many high hopes for you. What is going to happen now? How are you going to give the finals, huh?” I swear she could win Dramatic? No, ‘Over Dramatic Mother of the Year’ if she joined ‘Star Plus’.

“Jiska hain wo dekh lega, Tum hatoTanya.” Roshni now stood up, trying to take the result card back, but she moved farther back.

“Roshni, why are you talking to me like this? I am just expressing my concern–”

‘Concern ki maa’, I whispered and finally stepped up, giving her the ultimatum with my eyes that said: You better back off and hand my damn result card back if you want to be safe, but the reality was far from that. I wasn't really the type to get into anything close to violent talks or ugly fights, boys, girls, anyone. The reason most people in my family occasionally called me mute was because of my introverted nature, ... and abstinence from most crowds where I could sense more than 50% unknown people. 

 There’s a reason my family had to keep me in mind before choosing a bloody action movie for our family movie nights.

This time, Roshni came forward and gave  the card back to me after taking it from her.“Thank you so, so, so much for almost real Concern, Tanya. Now get back to your place and continue experimenting with ideas from your book ‘How to Chase Boys 101’.” Tanya turned red from embarrassment as the classroom was filled with low-satire giggles.

“Tara, tu Jake dekh, koi galti bhi ho sakti hain.” I nodded, I could be bad, not bad, probably worst at maths, get 50/40/30, even twenty, but not 09. It doesn't make sense.

I walked up to the teacher's room where Mr Ahuja, who usually handled these final mark checkings, was busy convincing his pregnant wife on video call to eat one more apple slice.

“Baby, Jaan, one more–” he paused, drinking water from the bottle, but choked on his water as soon as he spotted me standing in front of his desk, looking as if I had caught him murdering someone. He spat out the water in sudden shock, and the bottle in his hand jerked upward, and I was standing in that direction, so, as expected, the water was all over my face and uniform.

Kiski mu Dekhi thi uthne ke bad…

I wiped a hand down my face, calmly, and slid the card on the desk towards him; even his brows furrowed, absorbing the scenery in front of him.

“There must be something wrong, sir. Maybe I failed, but I didn't get 9. If that really happened, let me see my answer paper then.” I finally managed to speak the words, almost on the verge of breaking. I was barely holding back my tears. 

“Ah, I think so. Don't worry, beta, I will check it now, and beta, sorry for the water,” he said with an apologetic smile. But my mental situation was in a far worse phase to even think about that.  

“Get it fixed today, before the classes are over, sir. I can't go home with this.” Now two tears slid down my cheeks.

“Aha, baccha rote nahi, go to your classroom. I am seeing what happened.” He patted my head.

I looked at my reflection in the restroom mirror. Lips, almost faded white, and a heavy layer of darkness where my eyes were drowning. I got all of that in one night when I was having a fever at the thought of sitting in a math test. 

Now tears left freely from my eyes, and I fell, with a severe headache spreading all over my skull. Oh god, I have two classes left. Get yourself together, Nayan. I controlled myself and washed my face, and went back to the classroom. I wasn't really in the world until our class teacher came with a new paper in her hand, not a result card, something like a copy.

“Attention students, we have a very important announcement to make. The obtained mark of the Nayantara Jindal maths paper was just incorrect.” The moment I heard the word incorrect a breath left my mouth, and my whole body relaxed, unknowingly. 

 I looked at Mrs Chauhan, who was just saved from getting butchered at my house tonight. I kinda felt relieved that she herself came, don't know why I always feel the need to be in her good eyes, to please her. Oh, I do know, she is my grandmother's best friend's second daughter-in-law.

Yep, that's what I just said. All my elder cousins and siblings passed out from this school, and Mrs Chauhan was kind of the one who kept an eye on all of them. And now I was the only one left.

“It's 60, which became 09 for technical malfunction. We sincerely apologise for this.” She glared at Mr. Ahuja, who looked at her with the same apologetic look he gave me earlier. It didn't work on her,  but her eyes kind of softened for a second when she caught my pale face. 

“Get back to your study, students.” She headed out of the classroom, and I sighed in relief.

60 it is, still I couldn't go higher than 62, no matter how hard I tried. It was like a curse, which I couldn't lift. There was still a small lecture waiting for me at home, I guess. 

Mein kya karun main Pagal ho jati hun maths ke bare me jab bhi soch ti hun…Kya Hoga Mera….

I came home, totally busted.  

“Nayan, beta, aja Maine kheer banai hain chakh le."

“Haan taru, aja, main bohot Kam to kha Rahi hun par yeh bahit tasty hain.” My elder sister, Khushi Di, chirped.

“Bad mein dadi.” I dismissed them. Dadi's face became pouty as she bent and whispered something into my elder sister, Khushi di’s ears, something I shouldn't hear. But in that moment Dadi’s phone rang. 

“Are meri best friend ne call kia hain, Khushi beta, jake thodi chai le aa mere liye chai pite pite bat karenge apni pyarri saheli se.” dadi said nd my heartbeat stopped for a second. Best friend? That means Mrs. Chauhan’s mother in law. 

Dhet! Dimaag kharap ho jayegi meri sochte sochte.

 I went upstairs,   took a shower, and put on a dull, dead yellow t-shirt,  matching my mood, with  white trousers.

I was looking dull, great, cuz that's how I'm feeling.

Back downstairs, each one of my beautiful joint family sat, occupying the whole living room. I had the copy of my corrected result folded inside my pocket; the actual one would get time to be printed.

“Aree agayi hamari Nayan, school kaisa tha aaj?” Yashwant chachu asked and I froze for a second before nodding, “Achhi thi.”

“Oho, aaj to results day thi na, Nayan?” asked my cousin Surya bhai the moment we took our seats on the dining table. This man is always more than ready to tease me or anyone else, no matter how much he cares for us. He just loves putting people on the spot, especially when he knows it’s like throwing them into a river filled with crocodiles. 

Every pair of eyes turned towards me. 

Bacha lo mujhe bhagwan.

 “What are your results, Baccha?” Now Dad asked. “92%,” I answered, looking at my plate, and everyone made a  noise of satisfaction at hearing this. But then my sister made her statement, which was more like a question, “Maths?” That made everyone stop and refocus on me.

“Ab bas bhi kar, 92% layi hain meri bacchi ne kinti mahnat se, phir kyu ye saari bateein-” 

“60.” I didn’t let Dadi finish. Silence, a very annoying one. Each passing second made the back of my eye turn warmer. 

A cough, fake, made by my dad now. My saviour. “So, what? Next time it will be better. We will change the current coaching and find a new one where there will be a far better teacher for my Nayan to guide her to get more marks in maths.” And there it goes, my 23th Math teacher change. 

Congrats to me.

Well, I know my dad wants the best for me, but the other subjects are really good at my present academy. 

But before I could protest, my mother joined. “ What’s the benefit of changing teachers every once in a while? How can she get accustomed to every new teacher and their teaching that quickly? It’s a waste of time. Besides, all the past teachers we brought before weren’t at fault; we should think about something else.”

 She was right. The problem wasn’t the teachers; it was me. I had either a math-intolerant brain or I had potential (non-existent currently, by the way), but I couldn’t unlock it. I would really love to stick to reason B.

 “Par agar-” My dad started, but closed his mouth as soon as he caught mom glaring.

“Main apni aurek dost ko phone laga-” My elder brother, Siddharth also started along with my sister- “I need to find the perfect nail polish shade for this situation.”

“ Beta, real-life incident ke liye bhi koi shade ho sakta hain kya?” Now Sulekha Chachi.

“Why nott? For situations like this we could use Neon Coral/ Hot Pink with-”

“Are Kya Shuru Kiya hain tum-” One of the sensible members of the family started finally but Sulekha Chachi's pout made him change his words. “-Pyaari lag Rahi ho, make-up kharab ho Jayega. Khana Khao?” 

Surya bhai, Khushi di, Siddharth bhai all shared a same look, shaking their with a smile

Woah. Kya family hain mera.

“AB SAB LOG BAS KARO.” My Dadi’s voice silenced everyone, love you Dadi, my favorite savior. 

“Bahut hua, ab hum no kahenge, wahi hoga.” Everyone including me looked at her, curious.

“Hum apni Nayan ko aise nahi dekh sakte, Isiliye Humne apni saheli se baat ki hain, Uski beta Karthik ka bada beta Anirudh Videsh se wapas ayi hain. Wo jab tak is desh me hain, tab tak humari Nayan to Maths padhaygi.” Dadi concluded and everyone looked at each other and then nodded unitedly, “ Thik hain Maa.”

I remained rooted to my chair, looking at Dadi. Saviour turned into killer. I felt like I was sentenced to death by hanging.

✰ To Be Continued ✰  

A/N             

So, this was the beginning of Anirudh and Nayantara's story, hope you liked it, and buckle up cuz the next chapters are gonna be much better and fun(wink)*. The next chapter's gonna be posted soon, take love and Thank You.