And that's her story

By Agila Zaman

And that's her story is an Indian novel, written by Agila Zaman centring the a random Indian teenager, the travel of her life from early stages, her entertaining and curious teenage life, and her toxic relationships.The author has portrayed the colours of a teenage life, explaining the pleasures and gulits of a normal teen, their connect with friends, and adding colours of lust,curiousty,depressions and relief in a very candid and wonderful manner.Every chapters gives the reader a excited feeling and sets them on a journey with the characters of the book. It's definitely a must read as the seasons of life, is portrayed with utmost freshness and magic,leaving all mesmerised and touched.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Rose Publishers
• Release date: Oct 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798890086532

Book preview

The Dark Evening

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It was my first time in the city. That was the time when I moved from a blue mountain to the city life. Life in the mountains, was all w a shower feather-like breeze, blessed with gentleness, wrapped with simplicity and honesty. I lived in a small cozy home, with my lovely little family, amidst the woods. That was one kind of happy life, that anyone would ever wish. The life, like a fairy tale, in the laps of nature, innocence, and a happy family, was all the nourishing memories of my childhood. I was in my kindergarten and most of my evenings were spent, looking in at the valley green, starry jungle and campfire with our neighbours and times around my mother and brother, having a hot dinner and watching televisions. Television was one of the most fascinating things, of those days. Both of my parents were working, and we lived in a tiny staff quarters, situated in the middle of a dense greenish, woods. A distant cousin of mine, stayed with us to take care of me, who I lovingly called kalaiya Akka, was the reason for my peaceful childhood. In the afternoon, she used to bring hot home cooked steamed rice, with my ever favourite South Indian sambar, oil fried crispy papads and spicy potatoes that complemented the weather of the hill station. Since, my parents were working, I spent most of my time with my caretaker. As a little girl, I was quiet and an introvert. The Anglo-Indian school I studied always made me fascinated to speak the English language and culture. I remember that, the aunt and uncle of the school, being so poised and mannered. In fact, the way they interacted with the students was not only classy, but also tempting me to be like them. Not able, to grasp the speed and pitch of the language, most of the time, I used to stay quiet, out of the inconvenience caused to speak the language. All my friends were Anglo-Indians, and we I used to go to school in the morning and return in the evening amidst the mist, where I could barely see anything. The evening always was accompanied by tea to beat the cold, and we had as many times as we wished. Sometimes, in the evening I would walk along with my family through the jungle holding a fire torch through the rocky, wet and super moisturized land to meet our grandma at the nights. Our grandma's home was in the middle of a tiny hill, which had a beautiful garden with all flowers and all edible trees and fruits. It was definitely Jannah (heaven) on earth for me. The garden was filled with mango, jackfruit, pomegranate, blueberry, and many other exotic trees and flowers. This is what, made me fascinated, and made me more observant and thoughtful. I sometimes, used to go along with my mom on Saturday afternoon here. While, my mother having a good quality time with my grandmother, I often used to lay the open to sky porch and stare at the blue fresh sky and think what was this, and why is this held up there? My mind was cluttered with fascinations, and wondering around was my only companion, to my solitary my times. Even as a little girl, I was very curious about what God was and the mythologies. Mostly, it was because of the Stories of God, about punishments for mistakes, said to me by my mother. My mother is a very God-fearing woman, and on our very nothing-to-do days, we grew up frequently listening to her stories and mythologies. Every alternate night times, having held a big fire torch we walked through denseark scary, dense jungle, to our grandma's home. My grandmother's home, was the only hub, for my mom and her other sisters, who stayed there, and every little gathering at grandma’s home, was never lesser than a celebration. Pack your bag, let's go to grandma's home, was one of the exciting things to hear during my childhood. One day, since my brother fell, I had to walk alone , all way to my school. When I, returned home, my mother was a little panicked. Yes, it did happen, and I'm coming right away, down to your place, she uttered in a shocking voice. Back from school, I understood that something was not right. After our dinner by seven 'o clock, I came to know that, my brother was affected with jaundice and mom had planned to visit a doctor, in a nearby city. Though at that age, I couldn't understand the illness, I was only bothered of me going to school alone, how irony, my brother enjoyed the privilege of being at home and travelling with mom to the nearby city. The unpredictable weather, and concerned about our health and exposure, mom decided to move to the city from the hills. Yes, somehow, we moved to a nearby city where my aunt lived and moved there. These flashy memories of childhood, the quiet dark woods and the lone chirp of birds, the unpredictable weather is all that close to my heart even today. That was the start of unknown expeditions for me in the city.

As a little child, I was very observant and to me, it was personally hard to leave my land, that shared many memories. The native land, the quietness, the nourished breeze, tweets of birds, and having a thought of leaving this place was taking a bit of my heart. One of those last memories of my native, include the afternoon picnic with my cousins, cooking a pure veg South Indian meal and having it in the midst of a jungle. Yes, the sudden planning and seeing my elder cousins loaded with work, I was trying to help them, but still ignored because I was young and tender to help, still lies in my heart. The picnic had everything what a good food, needs. The big banana leaf filled with steamed rice, garden cooked vegetables with that spices and roasted jeera, with spicy Pappads and fresh fruits from grandma's garden, along with deep-fried potatoes and the spicy and yummy South Indian sambar garnished with coriander on top, with my favourite drumstick, carrot and beans in it still holds my heart and makes me drool even today. It was one of those times before leaving the city, my brother and I were allowed to play in the green lawns with the favourite toys that the Christmas offered us. ‘THE LAST’, winter in my native land set freshness bestowing the Christmas seasons and the celebration of my Anglo -Indian school, at the winter nights, filled with lights and presents, is still the days that I crave for. This was one of the best memories of childhood in the hills. But, I had to say, in the wink of an eye it was decided, and we moved to the nearby city where my aunt stayed. We had planned to build a home, within few days coming from the hills and, we stayed with my aunt at her residence. From a nuclear family, to a big famjam, felt like we partied every day and with a vintage freshness. Our aunt's home was filled with kids, like a cousin bash and we chased every second, hunting only fun and laughter. From playing, roaming the streets with our bicycles, our days were careless and contended. And, in the evening we flew kites, we saved money for the chotu munch that was launched back then, saving money to get our eatables, was our little pleasures. On some monsoon evenings, before the rain could start, and when the clouds were dark and roary, I often cried, let's go and play in the terrace to all of my cousins, who were almost teenagers and bored by my ideas. Since, I was the youngest, they did everything to make me happy. I often ask, Akka, ice kati (ice cubes), please, since from childhood, I have a thing for them. Those, crystal cool little cubes melting in my mouth and making my throat icy chill and cool was something I adored as a child. I often crushed them with my teeth and enjoyed, which was one kind of bliss during my days. Actress Preity Zinta featuring in the maggie noodles advertisement made me crave for it.

Being so obsessed with that ad, sitting around waiting for that ad to come on television was the craziest thing we would always do. We used to make a big hot bowl of Maggie, with loads of veggies, topped with carrot, beans, peas and then put some ketchup over it. Evening talks with family was a routine back then. Our big family, few neighbours, and all our mothers busy talking, we kid playing and having tea with all of them still stays fresh in my mind. That tea, especially everyone sitting around and taking sip by sip and dips of biscuits in them and borrowing tea from others, still holds my heart. I wish this kind of days are something, what a good life mean. A happy family time, with everyone around, the simplicity of those days and the neighbours gathering evening to talk, all are one of the wonderful days of my life until today. Somehow or the other, my parents decided to admit me in a convent school, which was the one of the most favourite incidents of my life till today and joining the convent school was the life-changing decision for me, that I would always feel thankful to my parents.

Living Lavish

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It was those fresh times, when I entered the high school. That was the time when I felt everything was very new to me and little liberal. Hey, when are we bunking the next session? I haven't done the assignments yet, asked Kiana with a slow and confused tone, which almost put me to death. In a deadly tone and a shivering voice, I asked her, whattttttttttttt?????. Just after i replied, and in no minute, Who's that?, At the back.... both of you get up, and get out, the teacher screamed. But miss,,,,,,,,,,, we both started at an instant, she wasn't ready to hear and sent us out. Kiana stared at me for being so loud, and I starred at her instantly, for she was the reason. Taking our big green geography book, with hesitation outside and happiness inside, we slowly walked out of our classroom, while giggling heartfully at each other. Not Just there, even after standing out, there was no end to our mischievous nature, we looked at each other's face at regular intervals and couldn't control our laughter, and we giggled so much near our classroom door. Kiana, was a wheatish fair girl, with a long black and dense curly hair. Being bubbly natured physically as well as mentally, she was all charm, that would make anyone attracted, the moment they see her. We were roughly ten years old and we first met at a dance show. So, are you my partner? I asked her in a surprised tone. Hm mm, May be yes, the teacher made me stand near you, she said. Yes, it started there. That was the kick-start of our friendship though both of us were in different classes, luckily, the following year, both of our classes were shuffled, and we ended up in the same class, which got both of us get crazier and closer. The convent school, the proper rules ,and us being so improper worked well. Remembering those days, we both were good at studies and were multi-talented, on the other hand, also blessed with enormous naughty nature. Our convent school was one of the top most school in our city, with a large green campus and a very high standard. Belonging to this school is still a big pride in our city, and being a part of that school , still adds a crown over my head. It was here, where we had ample of time to spend with extra curriculum, which was also made compulsory, in our school. What should we join?, I asked her. She turned slowly towards me side headed and said, you are in dance club, that's not enough for you?. I was quite for a while and said No, I want to do something like poetry, public speaking, what do you think?, I asked her. Without any hesitation, she quickly replied as a joke, let's join everything". That's how I started getting into every event that was held in my schools and city. Every little participation, started adding wings to my life, and that time pass conversation, will always be the finger point to my recognitions, in school.

We were athletes, quiz winners, proficient students, writers and orators, but on top the naughtiest ones. We were well recognized in our convent school, and that felt commendable one side and also a troublesome time, on the other flip. Like a breaking news, our tantrums were spreading like forest fire, being the well-known faces of our school, and the wanted list toppers, for all the chaos at school. It was one of those careless days of life, where wealth meant being happy. Listen, that girl, yes...She, has got her first period, someone murmured in our class. The next one sitting by her, Who? Ssshhhhheeeee?, asked in a doubtful tone. After hearing this conversation, we both looked at each other puzzled and sat crumbling our eyes with a curious emotion. What are they talking about?, I asked her. Wait, let's ask Pooja, she said. We both slowly turned to her, Kiana asked pooja What is that you both were talking about, and why are you sitting shocked? She was hesitant at first and kept quiet for a while. She didn't reply us anything and that bothered us. We walked back evening through our long straight school road to the school parking, thinking about this incident. Look pooja is standing there, waiting for her autorickshaw, let's pretend angry and not talk to her, we said each other and stood there in the waiting area ignoring her. We saw pooja and she saw us. Pooja was an innocent girl; the innocent look on her face with guiltiness of not telling us stood still. She took a while to talk to us and suddenly came near us. Hey, listen…. It was,,,,,,,, I thought.... I can tell later, but still… are you girls angry on me?, She asked us. In a hurry we said, yes, now what? why do you have to come now and talk, please go away, we said pretending to be harsh but believing she would say what it was. Pooja came very near to us, and started telling about the afternoon incident. And by the end, we understood what first period was. We both didn't stop there we frequently looked at each other and started telling, Ohh, it's you next, and you would be the next pooja of our class, no it's you", we screamed at each other and giggled each other after then. We both were coined as 'love birds', in our school, and we never missed a chance to talk and gossip with each other. Both of our parents were employed under the government, and every so often we made serious career discussions about cracking the civil services and other things. We had the happiest times of life and as we started moving to higher grades, we started to expand our circles.

My First Period

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It was those summer afternoons following high school when I felt like a set free, prisoner. Running back now and then, to aunt's home, playing wild in the hot sun, was all a season of joy. It’s you this summer, who’s gonna turn a biggie, and you will be locked up in your home forever, bullied Kiana over the phone calls, on our afternoon chats. We spoke as if it was our schedule to do and like it was compulsory to talk over phone. We spoke after our breakfasts, lunch and dinner and that eventually, earned my mom's anger. Don’t know, what makes you so addicted, those days, it was only at our schools we used to meet our friends, said my mother, whenever she saw me talking over call. You will never know the value of friendship, and don't separate us by yelling like this, what if she hears and cuts my friendship?, I used to hit back at my mother whenever, she spoke about disconnecting the call.

Having salted mangoes in the noon, chai samosa's in the evening, cycling as far as I could, exploring jungles and unknown streets, was all a gift of the summer, to my little curious soul. It was sometimes when the sky turned as blackish grey colour as it could turn and burst it's violent summer showers, seamlessly. During the violent showers, seated next to the window and watching the summer rains, doing nothing but munching the hot snacks and pakoras that mom made, was the pleasures of my summer vacation. There was no fear of doing homework or getting up early, it was all an absolute heaven, that I cherished to have throughout the year. I watched television as much as I could, and sometimes round the clock, forgetting my bedtime too. It's already five, in the morning, will you sleep now at least. How long are you going to continue watching the TV?, yelled my mother at me in half sleep. Only that harsh yell from my mother would tease me to come to reality. And, it was only by then, I got up to switch off the television with half swollen eyes, and overloaded sleepiness, like a drunkard. The fragrance of the new summer rain and the mud, flying kites, blowing bubbles, the afternoon chatters on call with Kiana, was always the exciting rhythm to my soul, that still holds my heart,