February 2020

ARUHI MEHRA

“Priya, stop looking so suspicious....they’ll figure out it’s with us,” I whispered into my 8-year-old cousin’s ear.

She glanced at me, then gripped the plastic bag tighter against her chest like it held national secrets.

It was my Mamu’s wedding. And somehow, we had been honored with the most important responsibility of all....guarding Mamu’s shoes.

As the youngest in the family, nobody would suspect us. That was the plan. But my genius cousin was practically announcing to the world that we were the culprits, darting her eyes around like a detective and squeezing the bag like her life depended on it.

Then I heard it, shuffling behind us. Like someone sneaking up.

“Did you hear tha—”

Before I could even finish, someone snatched the bag right out of Priya’s hands and bolted. We froze, staring at each other in stunned silence.

“Di, what—” she started, eyes still locked on her empty hands.

I quickly scanned the area and spotted two boys, one in a red hoodie, the other in blue, dashing out of the wedding hall, the plastic bag swinging in one of their hands.

“Come on!” I grabbed Priya’s hand and took off running in their direction.

But by the time we reached the door, they were gone. Just… vanished.

I was still catching my breath when I heard sobbing. I turned to see Priya sitting on the floor, crying.

“What happened?” I asked, crouching beside her.

“It’s my fault. They took the shoes because of me. I should’ve held them tighter,” she sniffled.

How was I supposed to handle this? I was only nine myself.

“Priya, listen. Don’t cry, okay? We’ll find the shoes. Let’s tell the elders first, and then we’ll search for them together,” I said gently, wiping her tears. I helped her stand up and held her hand tightly.

We informed the elders and began our mission. All the other cousins our age were fast asleep. It was just me and Priya, still riding the excitement of the wedding, now also carrying the weight of lost shoes.

Half an hour passed. No sign of them.

Where could those hoodie boys have hidden them?

As we wandered through the hall, Rashmika di spotted us.

“Did you two find the shoes?” she asked. We shook our heads silently.

Then, another cry.

“Priya, stop crying,” she groaned. “Aruhi, make her quiet. We’ll look for the shoes, okay?”

Why was I, a 9-year-old, being told to console an 8-year-old?

Still, I nodded like the responsible cousin I was. Because this was serious. This was… shoe business.

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Well, we didn’t find the shoes.

Turns out, they were hidden in the dikki of one of the cars. THE DIKKI. How were we supposed to know that? We were just 8 and 9 years old, barely tall enough to open a dikki without a stool.

I sighed.

The bride’s side demanded ₹5000 as ransom, and Mamu paid it. Just like that.

At least Priya had finally stopped crying. She was now curled up with her head resting on my lap, while I sat staring blankly across the hall, waiting for the grown-ups to get ready to leave.

I didn’t know when we were leaving. All I knew was that my eyes were getting heavier and heavier. My little sister was already fast asleep somewhere with Mumma, not that I could blame her. She was just three years old, after all.

As I scanned the crowd, my gaze stopped on someone familiar, the blue hoodie guy. He was dancing near a group of elders, doing those awkward uncle-style steps, and actually looking kind of... harmless. Nice, even. Except for the tiny detail that he was, you know, a thief.

Sleep was threatening to take over, but then nature called.

I gently shook Priya’s shoulder. “Priya,” I whispered.

She stirred. “What happened, Didi?” she mumbled, eyes half-open.

“I need to go to the bathroom. Will you be okay here?”

She nodded lazily and adjusted herself on the chair. “Come quickly, please.”

I nodded back, though I wasn’t sure she even saw it.

I rushed to the washroom and finished up. But the wedding hall had started to feel stuffy, so I stepped out to the balcony for some air. The cold breeze hit my face, and I instantly felt awake again.

That’s when I heard it, shuffling.

I turned my head and saw him, the same blue hoodie guy. He was leaning casually against the railing, a few familiar wrappers in his hand. Kismi toffees. My favorite.

He noticed me noticing. We locked eyes for a brief second before he started opening one of the packets.

“You want some?” he asked, holding them out.

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

He passed me two bars wordlessly.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

He just smiled and unwrapped his own Kismi toffee.

A few quiet minutes passed as we munched on candy under the stars.

Then—

“Achoo!”

The cold air wasn’t done with me yet.

“Achooo!”

Another one. My nose was on strike.

And then, another sneeze. Ugh.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a hand pushing a small white hanky towards me.

I looked up at him, confused.

“Take it,” he said. “You’re sneezing.”

He kept nudging it toward me until I took it. I sneezed again and wiped my nose....ugh, that itchiness.

Just then—

“Didi! I was waiting for you!”

I turned to see Priya standing nearby, arms crossed, frowning in peak little-cousin-annoyance.

“Coming!” I called, already moving toward her.

I didn’t even glance back at the blue hoodie guy.

But in my heart?

He was nice.

Very nice.

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We were finally back home and everything was back to normal. I'll be going back to school from tomorrow.