Chapter 2: The Pinch

I have worked in these halls for more than 10 years and during these 10 years I have seen this hall more than the back of my hand. The long pillars in the hall gave it an airy appearance and resemblance to a church. I say church but a miniature cathedral is more likely. These halls have been paced by infinite number of students ever since the birth of this prestigious institution and I am sure none of them must have seen this hall in this perspective.

 

To boost I.Q. often it is suggested to take a test called The Multiple Uses test. This test asks the person to come up with as many uses of a commodity they can for it and the scores are given on two platforms; on of them is called ingenuity. No one would have ever aced ingenuity as good as her.

 

It must’ve been 10 minutes past the incident but I am still standing here and staring at the pillar with a mind boggling serenity at the actions taken by her. It so happened that I was on my way to the first class of the first semester of the newbies of this year and mentally making notes on the imbecilic actions of youngsters.

 

The day had been one of the last days of winter and the snow on the branches has been melting and resembling dew. The wind was cold but had lost the chill like that of an old man who is respected by all but honoured by none. The days best described by the authors as “The birds were chirping” and the likes of the same. I wore a grey suit with a black necktie and entered the hall which I had to pass to reach the administrative office first.

 

Behind the pillar was she. Who is she? What’s her name? I didn’t know. But there was she with an ingenious usage of the pillar. She. Somewhere behind me the girls were calling out to someone.

 

“Smriti! Smriti!”, they were shouting and the missing girl was in front of me but seeing past through me. She was hiding behind the pillar and the only visible feature, her black eyes which were full of life, darted here and there with a giddiness so pure only a child could mimic it.

“Smriti it’s the English professors lecture! We have to rush!”, came the voice from behind and she rushed out of the pillar. I kept staring at the pillar. Musing her ingenuity.

And fir the first time ever feeling the pinch of being looked through.

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