"Are you ready yet?" asked my dad as he picked up the bag to leave my uncle's house. I followed him; behind me walked my uncle, aunt, my mother, and my grandma.
The dusty dirt path felt awfully nostalgic after living in the city for over seventeen years. The green scenery gave off a peaceful sense, which, if inhaled, healed my lungs.
Looking at the passing huge trees, I wondered, "It's boring here," as I stared at the backyard of the house we were to arrive at.
I saw a girl right around my age jump and sprint as if she had no worries about the world she lived in.
I wished to be someone who could also run carefree.
I wore a white shirt and half pants that were tucked to my hip with a belt.
Had I known we'd see a girl today, I'd have worn something better.
"Oh! She's already here?" whispered my uncle as he, too, looked at that girl. Leaves littered before my eyes as she tripped over a small rock.
"Doesn't matter, can't hear us anyway," said my dad, catching eyes with that young girl whose black hair danced in the wind like a waving flag.
I wondered—can't hear us? What did they mean by that?
I passed by the house door moments after seeing that girl. Just as I entered the room, I saw him:
My grandpa, and some other people I didn't recognize.
"You've grown much, Shyam!" said my grandpa, as he always did.
I just nodded as I sat down on the ground with both my legs below one another.
"Why have you brought him?" some woman asked as she stared outside, her eyes red as if she'd cried almost every night.
I looked at her, though before our eyes met, my father replied,
"Thought I'd show him the countryside." To which the woman once more said,
"This conversation is not meant for him. Send him someplace else." Her words clung to my heart. Why did I not have permission to listen to their conversations?
If not, why had I been brought here?
Though I could not show anger, I requested my father for a flawless escape.
"Dad, can I play outside?" Just as I said it, the girl whom I had just seen outside jumped inside the house with her dirty feet and quirky smile.
Seeing her, my dad gritted his teeth.
"Go ahead, and take her with you," he said as he looked away from her, as if he no longer wanted to see her.
I couldn't understand them. If they wished to simply not see her, then why had they kept her imprisoned in such an environment?
I couldn't argue. Wandering outside, I looked at the woman once more before walking past the girl my age.
She smiled as she followed me outside.
I could no longer hear what the elders talked about. Trying to pass the time, I stared at the girl's childlike play—throwing dirt everywhere—though she smiled through all of it.
To be honest, I felt a little glimpse of jealousy in her joy before realizing there was no one to stop me from having the same amount of joy as the girl.
I slid my lips to talk.
"Hey," I said.
She did not respond, irritating me, so I tried once more.
"Hey! I am talking to you!" But she didn't respond. I began to look away when she suddenly looked at me.
She moved her lips as if trying to speak, but no sound came out of her mouth—as if she'd been muted.
I could read her lips, just a little bit:
If you are talking to me, know that I am deaf and mute. Sorry.
She tried to say it, but couldn't.
I couldn't help myself; I moved my hands, trying to speak the little sign language I'd learned in school.
It's okay, don't be sorry! Can we play?
She understood that way better than the kids in my school—maybe because she'd never heard a word, and so she had to rely on her eyes and the movement of people—their lips, hands, and legs.
Sometimes, your actions reveal far greater feelings and emotions than your words could ever explain.
We talked about a lot of things, though I couldn't understand her properly at times, but she'd forgive me still. She saw me as a normal human being rather than a machine that acted through orders.
Slowly but surely, I felt as though my feelings tilted toward her. I did not ever hope to fall for a girl who was both deaf and mute.
I tried to pull away my feelings from further destruction.
Right then, my father called me to go back home.
Before I left, I gave her a small rock I'd picked up earlier from near the pond in that same backyard.
Going away, I saw her faint smile that screamed—
"Please don't go!"
But I was chained with orders. Though it certainly was not the last time we met, as my father went to countless family gatherings and meetings in that same house, and every time they did so,
I'd see that same woman—and those same eyes that now looked more and more tired, as if she'd been taking care of something she dared not touch.
And I'd see her again each time I went there.
She told me her name through sign once: Raitha.
One night, as if our meeting spot had shifted from that woman's home to our house, I napped in the room near where they talked. I could hear their words, their laughter, and their satisfied smiles.
Maybe they'd achieved what they were setting up all those meetings for?
I thought to myself as I slowly planned to close my eyes when suddenly, I heard some words that jolted me awake and made me stand in shock.
"So, at last, she turned out to be a bad omen for our family?"
"Yeah, Raitha's the reason we've had to worry so much for Ashile. I can't wait to burn the house with her soon."
"Me too. For her, she's all sad for so many years. I'll see Ashile smile again instead of crying eyes."
"Shyam's been keeping her distracted well. You've got a good son, Pratal."
I heard all this talk, yet my dad did not speak a single word, as if he hadn't yet agreed to this.
Though, I'd expect nothing less from my father.
Still, I escaped my room and ran straight for that house.
Even if my father didn't agree, they would still kill her—these village people!
Why do they always believe a kid is the cause of one's misfortune?
If it were true, they should have finished her at birth!
She can't speak, she can't listen, she has no idea what's even happening!
Don't these people know they are ending the life of an innocent kid?!
I ran as fast as I could.
He ran as fast as his legs would allow him to.
The road looked dark; I couldn't see anything besides the dirt path.
Even still, he ran until his lungs burned out.
And I finally reached the house.
There she was, sitting alone in the backyard, tears streaming down her cheeks as she dug the ground—as if she'd tried to bury her own self.
Had she realized what was going to happen?
I dashed to her as I held her hand. "Let's run away!" I shouted as I tried to move her.
But she didn't move an inch—of course she didn't. I wouldn't want to leave the place I'd loved for years.
She did not have the slightest idea of what was going to happen.
But she needed to move!
And for some reason, a few droplets of water left my eyes as well as I tried to lift her up and run away.
Suddenly, I felt her trying to push me away.
Her lips moved once more, one last time maybe?
"I could speak, I could listen, I still pretend—and I am better dead than alive." Her hair covered her face, but I could sense the sadness in her voice.
Though I was even more shocked by the fact that she could speak.
Yet she chose not to... Why!?
"Why don't we run away? I can convince my father for sure if you stay with me!" I yelled.
But she persisted in not moving.
Then, I sensed something hot behind me.
The building!
It suddenly started burning, and then I saw some people walk by the back door as they laughed as if they'd just accomplished something great.
I stared at Raitha as I held her hands.
"I've only met you a few times," he started.
"But I... I LOVE YOU." I held her tight, ready to let go of everything, just to be with the person who accepted me.
"Why are you willing to die for someone as cursed as me?" said Raitha as she screamed.
"Why!?"
And then I whispered to her.
And then he whispered to her.
And then he whispered to me.
"Because I love you."
Her eyes sparkled—not with joy, excitement, or sadness—but with hope.
Hope that she would meet him once more, in the next life—maybe as a dog, cat, or even an ant.
"I want to remember you, forever!" she murmured back as she slid her hands behind his back.
The fire quickly spread, covering both of them.
That day, love bloomed, but beliefs won.
It is said that two children were birthed the same day, in a distant kingdom, in different houses, with different faces—but each sharing the same feelings.
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Written by { dhoben }
Published by { noobBooks studio }
Published on { webnovel TMR }
Editor { raitha, leaf on books studio }
Translation { nooblate eng studio & sub studio }