Tumhe bhulane me shayad, mujhe zamaana lage

❤️💔🖤 Hamza X Yalina 🖤💔❤️

💽 📻Dhurandhar X Jagjit Singh 📻 💽

A/N - This was the most random and impulsive ideas I've ever had.

My chachu is a big Jagjit Singh fan and when he used to live with us, he would play his ghazals everyday. So I've grown up with the melancholy of JS's ghazals. Or maybe the melancholy was always within me, passed down my mother and chachu. I've realised I also have my Papa's curiosity and my dadi's love for literature. She would suddenly start remembering poems from when she was in school and recite them to us. She's only studied till 4th standard but is one of the smartest women I know.

I remember once my dad and I were watching a walkthrough of London city. And I remember seeing the busy streets and the sheer number of people, and thinking, "Where are all these people even going?" And that's exactly what my dad said the next minute.

Anyway, I digress. My Spotify suddenly suggested me this song and as I was listening these particular lines, it clicked. I could see how it would apply to Jassi.

Now, to be very honest. I'm more of a Hamzair fan but this idea just clicked and I HAD to do something about it.

Jassi's entire life was a pile of unfair, right from the start. He did not deserve that. Neither did his family. The scariest thought is, that the Rangis are just like us. They were happy like us, living their life like us.

And then when he finally finds something good, even in the snake pit of a place, it's stolen away from him. Maybe he didn't love her from the start or maybe he never did but my fanfiction loving heart wants to believe that her company and her existence granted him some relief from the survivors guilt Jassi harboured. He was never Jassi with her, but Hamza. But I still believe she was unknowingly healing something she didn't break.

So this is dedicated to my babies, Hamza and Yalina, who deserved the world. But the world didn't deserve them. A world that is hellbent on crushing affection, softness, hope, love doesn't deserve a gem like them.

I'm dedicating this for my Tiramisu @yaadonmein this is for you cutieee

Tagging some Hamlina people -> I hope y'all like it

@itsnotmai

@mainyahaankyunhoon

@imadelusionalwriter

@shadyalpaca13

@ai-manre

@ib-gremlin

@harrystyleskiwi9

@prahelika-fics

@willowsgoldenhour

@faebutterflygayaf

@browniemilkies

@iwascouldbewillbebygodstillam

@tere-naal-nachna

@sanpiece

@lutt-le-gaya

@anxiousbeing

@debsreads21

@scentedwolfdragon

@layinglowkey

@sanamkhanani

Hi all! This is Sudi aka @hamzair-is-my-otp . I have been thinking of somethings that will help out fandom be alive and I'm here to share it.

I'm thinking of starting a discord for this fandom (if there's already one let me know!)

I don't know how many of you are in HP fandom but they regularly conduct writing fests and prompt challenges based on specific tropes. Or based on the month. I was thinking why not do the same to our fandom too. Let me know everyone's thoughts on this.

The prompts won't just be for a specific pairing every time. It would vary. Like if a prompt is given, anyone can use it for any pairing. Because our fandom is small compared to many other fandoms who write fics within themselves for specific pairings and I want everyone to be involved in any way possible, I'm thinking of weekly stuff too.

I want volunteers who would help me do this (if we're doing it). Not just with discord, but also to brainstorm prompt ideas. Anyone can volunteer.

People are leaving this fandom because of personal commitments or less engagement to their fics or due to harassment. We can't do anything about the first one, it's life. But if you're leaving because of the other two, please stay, let's start something new and make this fandom stronger. Let's all write more and make the anons grow tired.

Everyone please reblog and comment on fics that you like. Please don't be silent. Even a heart or two in the comment section would make the author happy.

Prompts would not just be about hamzair, rehmat, hamlina but also the ones with OCs, readers, major Iqbal, SP Aslam, and anything that's posted as a fic. Basically any and every pairing you want to make.

This is not just limited to fics, you can also draw, write poetry, do whatever you want with said prompts but be involved in whatever way you can.

Kindly reblog this. I can only tag a limited amount of people in this. Others also tag everyone on your list. Let this spread to even the smallest writer. We need everyone to keep this fandom's light bright and shining.

Honestly Dhurandhar movies and this fandom has been playing a MAJOR role in helping me through my own personal struggles and depression. I know it's the same for many of you, even if it's not said out loud. That's one of the main reasons I don't want this fandom to die.

I know we have a mix of school students, college students, and working adults here, so please don't worry about deadlines. These events will be completely flexible with long submission windows and short-word, one-shot options, so you can join in whenever life and exams give you a break.

I'm requesting everyone who reads this post to comment their HONEST opinions on this. Even if it's negative, it's welcome because this is an initial discussion, not a forced conclusion. Thankyou ❤️

Taglist:-

This is a scheduled post. Work is STILL fucking me up bad. Corporate ki maa ki €$¢^€¥¢€¢€^¢

Let's come back to our babies! The couple you've been wanting to see. They've grown up, they're teens and they're messier than ever. Because are you even a teenager if you aren't lost in your own feelings and pretending to be the main character of your own movie?

Editing this cuz ye phail kyu gaya tha?

Chapter 15 - Homecoming

23rd March, 1996.

Dear Jassi,

Yaad hai jab maine 3rd std me me tujhse pucha tha ki mujhe life me kya karna chahiye? Uska jawab mujhe aaj tak nahi mila. Boards khatam ho gaye aur mujhe nahi pata mujhe life me kya karna hai.

Na mujhe commerce acha lagta hai, na Maths aur Science. Main shayad Arts hi lelu. At least I like reading, researching and studying. Tera accha hai, 11-12th padhke Army me jayega. Joel ka me abhi kuch keh nahi sakti. Jassi, every time papa calls us, they end up fighting. Because Joel has given up on joining NDA or even the Army.

Wo bas papa ko gussa dilaane ke liye kehta hai that he wants to become a singer but I know uski jaan abhi bhi aviation me phasi hai. He's scared that he'll turn out like papa. That he'll become a withdrawn man like papa.

You know I love my Mumma but some part of me doesn't want to become like her. I don't want to end up in a broken marriage like hers, where the kids are always on edge, just waiting for the parents to start fighting. Kabhi kabhi sochti hu ki shaadi hi na karu. Ab mujhe nahi samajh aa raha life me kya karu.

Tum log jaldi aa jao please. Tum logon ka first Mumbai trip. Mujhe tum dono ko bohot kuch dikhaana hai. My school, Wimpys Burger, my regular library. Bohot maza aayega Jassi. Tu dekhna. Bas Jaldi aa jaa yaar!

Yours Truly,

Jessie

first, i’m a narcissist and will not read it if it’s not about me

second, I love the feeling of people liking me

I'm back, bitches! Well not back cuz I never left. I had been ghost reading but the past few weeks even that had become difficult as fuck due to my work schedule and working extreme hours. Fuck corporate and fuck the entertainment industry 😭😭 saala insaan hai ya majdoor 😭

Chapter 14 - Metamorphosis - Part 1

Having a parent in the Indian Army meant changing houses every two to three years. Packing your life away, leaving your friends behind and starting anew.

The D'mello family had seen a hopeful change after the summer of 1988, when Major Daniel had taken a leaf out of Harjinder Rangi's book and had started treating his family with love and care. Jessie had made it a habit to talk on the trunk calls her mother made to her father. She would update him about her karate classes and her studies while he listened with rapt attention. There had been a call where Daniel had asked her to write him letters and Jessie had hesitantly denied.

For Jessie, letters meant effort, waiting, patience. And she was not yet ready to do that for her father despite them growing slightly closer than before.

Her trail of letters to Jassi didn’t stop though. They kept writing to each other, exchanging stories about school, parents, Ruby, Darji, Harleen, studies, poems and what not.

Their second and third vacation together in 1989 and 1990 was a picture of growing connection and a strengthening friendship. One would have to be blind to not see how Joel and Jessie, the Bombay bred kids had infused themselves into the very fabric of the Pind as well as the hearts of the Rangis.

Harleen was discovering her love for drawing as well as maths. Joel realised that he loved the complexity of maths and science but hated his father's disciplined instructions. Yet he couldn't bring himself to openly resist the man.

With every passing summer Jassi, discovered that the deshbhakti his Bauji and Daarji had, existed in him too. With every run and drill his father put him through, his clarity of wanting to serve in the army kept strengthening.

Then there was Pinda, Jassi was surprised that the boy had been his classmate and yet they had never interacted. When school had restarted, Jassi started noticing how the shorter boy would always be picked on by others. All Jassi had to do was interrupt them during one of their bullying sessions and they didn't bother the boy afterwards. They were joined to the hip after that with Jassi as his silent protector who everyone was scared to cross.

As for Jessie, she swam through fourth and fifth standard with the finesse and spark that befuddled her teachers. But no one except Joel noticed her extra efforts in staying up late, so that she could study her lesser liked subjects like Science and Maths. Joel would stay up with her and with a gentleness that would rival Amrita, and make Daniel scoff, taught her the formulas that just wouldn't make sense.

When Jessie went to Ludhiana that summer, she met Jassi's new friend Pinda. A conflict had started between Pinda and Joel about who was closest to Harleen. The little girl had come running and leapt into her Jojo Bhaiya’s arms. Then she introduced them to her new friend. During the entire month of April, Joel and Pinda would end up in shoving matches about who would hold Harleen's hand while walking. The girl would look back, see them fighting and hold both their hands, before she would start pulling them forward.

Their deadlock had been broken when Harleen had slipped on one of the stones of the river's bank. Before Jassi or Jessie would react, Pinda and Joel had ran towards her with the same fear in their hearts. Pinda had made the crying girl stand upright while Joel had checked her from head to toe for any signs of bruising or wounds.

That's when they had realised their shared intention for the girl. While Harleen had quickly entered the river water, the boys had stood on the bank and shook hands. No words were spoken but there was no need to. A bond was forged out of two boys’ need to protect a little girl who held a special place in their hearts and they would make sure that the other took it seriously.

By the time the Summer of 1990 rolled around, Daniel's posting at Ludhiana was over. His next posting was a peace posting at the Military Headquarters of War, Madhya Pradesh (MHOW) and this time around, he could take his family along.

Whatever attempts they had made to start becoming a family again, went down the drain when the months started blending into each other and Daniel was able to come home every night. Turns out the problems raised their ugly heads when Daniel and Amrita sat in one room and tried to be themselves.

Daniel had gone from dealing with counter insurgency in Ludhiana, to being an Directing Staff in MHOW. The jump from nabbing insurgents in the dead of the night or disrupting smuggling missions to sitting in war rooms and teaching officers how to lead companies in war started grating at him. He was stuck teaching strategies to soldiers, while everyone else went out in the field. The guilt gnawed at him sometimes. It was a prestigious job that he was given. He had been graded A to be here and earn this position. But his need to be out in the open and ‘do something’ put him on the edge.

Some people weren't made for peace, they were made to fight. To fight dirty, so there was peace inside. And he was one of them. But that meant that his need to ‘do something’ had started costing his family their peace.

Daniel didn't want to know about Jessie's progress anymore, he wanted to monitor the hours she was dedicating to each subject. No one could see it but red marks would magically appear on Joel's hand when he came back with a test in which he had scored less. Jessie would sit on Joel's bed and apply parachute oil while hiding it from Amrita.

Amrita's sociology professor brain couldn't help but look at the military system and think of it as a vertical scale of disparity. She couldn't tolerate the rank hierarchy and the automatic respect it gave to a Colonel’s wife and the iron fist with which she ruled the AWWA at MHOW. Amrita couldn't comprehend the fact that a trained soldier was working as a Sahayyak or that some senior officers found it apt to treat junior officers at the Cantonment like waiters, by snapping fingers at them and asking them for drinks.

What was order and discipline to Daniel was disparity and blind servitude for Amrita. When she tried to raise questions about women not serving in the army, she was shut down with reasons that boiled down to their gender and safety or when she brought up concepts like the suffrage movement, she was told her ideas and thoughts were too radical and disruptive for the army. Daniel's ego had taken a severe hit when he started being known as the professor's husband.

The kids would end up being woken up by Daniel and Amrita shouting in the middle of the night for barely two minutes but the ripple effects were heard in the utensils forcefully set in the drying rack or Daniel’s trunk thudding against the wardrobe with force. There were times when Amrita would walk in the room with a packed bag and try to drag the kids out of bed. Jessie and Joel had spent way too many nights where Amrita and Daniel were camping in their room fighting to keep the kids or take them away.

Amrita's heart sank when the kids started yapping less and answering more. They were falling in a line to a structure that she had started to detest. She couldn't keep count of how many times she had walked in on Daniel grumbling at Joel at the dining table. Joel, who was usually an expert at maths, would start sputtering at his father's almost punishing grip on his neck or his fingers tugging at Joel's stubborn curls that needed more than frequent cutting. One day, she had walked in to find Joel sitting in his and Jessie's room staring at the wall. Jessie had a hand on his back and her leg in his lap, with their Lab Ruby snuggled in his lap, both the girls making sure their touch was keeping him grounded.

Jessie, who never gave a damn about what she wore, would dress up in frocks that felt like uniforms and stayed away from her bohemian dungarees and Snoopy tees because they were ‘uncultured’ according to her father.

A nasty fight had broken out between Amrita and Daniel when she had come back home from an evening in an AWWA meeting, to find a weeping Jessie on the stairs of the bungalow with Ruby’s snout buried in her lap.

Amrita had felt her blood boil when Jessie told her that Daniel had thrown away her comic books and novels. He had packed them all up and asked his Shayyak Anil Uncle to sell it in scrap, who had done it with a heavy heart. When she had confronted her husband about it, Daniel had said, “Be grateful they weren't your sociology textbooks,” to which Amrita had thrown back a threat that if he did that, the next AWWA meeting wouldn't end well. Daniel couldn't let his reputation take a hit, which would in turn put a red mark on his potential promotion, so he let the matter go without an apology or acknowledgement.

Amidst their father's man made isolation, Jessie only had few sources of not sinking into loneliness. Her letters to Jassi and her grandfather, Joseph D'mello, a newest addition to her list of receivers.

Amrita had encouraged Jessie to write to her grandfather who they only met within a gap of a few years despite living in the same city. Jessie had cringed at the suggestion but Amrita had reminded her how their grandfather would always bring them imported chocolates and took them on rides to Marines Drives or late night burgers at Wimpys. Jessie had started writing because she knew Daniel looked down at his father's indulgent nature in life, his international trips and deemed his hedonism a failure as a man.

It was surprising for Jessie to hear her grandfather being so similar to her when it came to reading stories and wanting to sit at the beach because the sound of the waves calmed them down. Jessie would talk Amrita's ear off about Dadu owning so many vinyl records and his house having a huge library that had oakwood floors and rugs made in Istanbul.

When Daniel's tenure at the MHOW came to an end, the family breathed a sigh of relief. Amrita was desperate to get Joel out, in an environment where he could randomly dance to Tamma Tamma Loge on the radio and not sit in a room shaking. She wanted to introduce more poetry to Jessi and discuss their opinions on Saadat Hasan Manto, Premchand and the Inner Courtyard.

When Daniel made his family sit in the living room and started ‘briefing’ them about his next posting in J&K, he announced that instead of Colaba, they were supposed to go to the Separated Family Quarters in Pune. Amrita had simply picked up the intercom and made a call to the CO’s wife casually chatting about the next AWWA meeting and whether there were any special topics to highlight. Daniel had gone quiet and kept glaring at her while she spoke on the phone. She informed him that she would not be moving anywhere. She was going to take the kids to Bombay and live with Daniel's father, Joseph.

“You are NOT taking my kids to that senile old man's house,” said Daniel.

“That senile old man is my kids’ grandfather,” Amrita shot back. “Maybe I was blind in love but I was not made for this life. I want to be a professor in Bombay and be the reason my students become responsible citizens with empathy and humanity. I can't live like this and smile fakely at your COs wife if I don't respect the woman. That's not who I am,”

May, 1992

When Jessie visited Ludhiana that year in April 1992, the Rangis were surprised at Daniel's absence. But the moment they noticed the sadness and relief in the rest of the D'mellos’ eyes, they embraced the mother, kids and the dog with warmth and love. It had taken an 8 year old Harleen multiple tries and crying sessions where Pinda would explain to her that Joel needed some time and space because he wasn't feeling well. That made the girl even more desperate to reach out to her Jojo Bhaiya. It had taken her multiple tries before Joel had stepped out of the house, held the little girl's hand with Pinda on the other side and had taken her to the dam.

Harleen, the ever resilient little girl, had gotten used to sitting patiently with Pinda and Joel on the dam or asking the D’mello boy about multiplication and division.

The summer made Jassi realise that Jessie might be the D'mello he was closest to, but his heart also had a small nook dedicated to her curly haired twin. It hurt his heart to see the boy who was like a brother to him, walk around as if he was scared he might get jumped on. But he was happy that Pinda and Harleen were there to make sure he didn't fall off the far end.

Jassi and Jessie's late night talk sessions on Jessie's balcony and the branches of the Banyan tree were spent telling Jassi all about the two years spent at MHOW and Jessie's worry about Joel as well as her excitement to meet her grandfather after a good six years. She had spent the nights telling him about whatever she remembered about the man as well as Bombay.

“Tu mujhe duniya ke kisi bhi kone me leja, Jassi, mera dil humesha Bombay me hi atka rahega,” said Jessie during one of their hang outs.

Upon hearing that, Jassi had recited a poem from his mother's diary that made Jessie shudder.

“Mere khuda mujhe itna to mo'tabar kar de,

main jis makan men rahta hun us ko ghar kar de,”

June 1992.

Life with Joseph D'mello was something the kids had longed for but hadn't anticipated.

The minute they stepped foot in Joseph D'mello’s flat in the Fort area in Bombay, they had been surrounded by cooks, cleaners and drivers who didn't live under Joseph's thumb. Their house was a giant collection of four flats merged into each other that was mostly run by these very cooks and cleaners.

Joseph lived in a pre-independence era building, Imperial Heights, that had high ceilings, wrought iron balconies with beautiful marble tiles that remained cool during Summers and floor to ceiling casement windows that opened on the inside and gave a beautiful view of the gateway of India and the Arabian Sea.

The househelp, Arohi, walked into the sprawling house like she owned it. She would clean the rooms, sweep everything and then make a cup of chai for herself as well as Earl Grey for Joseph. When Amrita and the kids had entered the picture, she added another adarak chai and two cups of bournvita to the mix.

His gardener, Kainaaz, who was also his neighbour and lived a floor below with her grandson Lucas, would walk into their house or call out to Joseph from the balcony and spar with him about his lousiness at keeping his plants alive.

His cook Julie would scold Joseph for his inability to control himself when he saw sweets while reminding him that he should ‘watch what he ate’ and ‘act his age’. She would sit with the kids in the afternoon and tell them stories about growing up in Goa when it was a Portuguese colony. She would keep Ruby's water bowl ready and take her to vet appointments. She also made sure that the kids were pulled into the kitchen and could cook basic meals that were necessary for survival.

Once when Joel had dropped and shattered a glass tumbler on the ground, his stomach had hardened as if he was waiting for his father's belt to come swinging and kiss the skin on his back. His shoulders had started shaking but instead of his father's leather, his grandfather's soft fingers had combed through his curls telling Julie to “Please clean this up and join us for dinner. The Chorizo will go cold otherwise,”

Amrita who had been watching this scene had felt her chest cave as sobs had threatened to tear her heart apart. When Joseph had found her, she had told her father in law that the man she married was a stranger to her now. The same boy who had always told her that she was the love of his life and dedicated his wins to her had now become the biggest loss of her life. It was a tragedy, that the kids would never know their father the way she did.

Amrita hadn't just chosen to relocate the kids to Bombay, she had removed Jessie and Joel from the very elements that made them Army brats. With their grandfather's help, she had gotten them admitted to The Cathedral and John Connons School (ICSE).

The switch from CBSE to ICSE challenged Joel just the right way due to its advanced syllabus while Jessie struggled with the same. But what she couldn't achieve in Maths and Science, she compensated by scoring high marks in social science and Languages.

The kids watched in awe as Amrita rejoined as a guest lecturer at Xavier's college and rapidly became one of the main faculties as her cotton saree and bandhani style side bags became a part of her identity.

Teenage knocked on the D'mello's house in the form of chaos personified.

At 13, Jessie and Amrita went from hugs and kisses while laughing, to hugs and kisses while saying, “oh my god, yes Mumma, I'll be back by 7,”

Jessie introduced her wardrobe to a new collection of tennis skirts, multicolored cotton dungarees, black chockers, denim jackets, velvet scrunchies and flannel shirts that would be scrunched and tied up at the waist. She did have a pair of prim and proper dresses that Joseph had bought for them from high end boutiques in Colaba but Jessie would rather wear wide legged jeans and a tied up flannel so she could look like the older college going girls living in their area.

Joel went from a standard military cut to growing out his curly ringlets to a respectable length that was allowed in the Cathedral. His wardrobe of ironed shirts, polos and looking like his father's mini copy was replaced by a hippie collection of baggy jeans, white t-shirts layered with flannel shirts, Bata sneakers and Reeboks. He also had a huge stack of bandanas to wrap around his hair in Bombay's tropical heat, which would be removed and hidden before walking inside the school building.

When he sat in class beside a girl who was an industrialist's daughter or a boy who lived in Bombay's Koliwada, a fishermen's community, he realised that his father's rank didn't mean anything here. The Cathedral didn't care about hierarchy and whether your father was a Major, Colonel or a Captain, it cared about how well you could represent the college in debating or inter school music contests.

Joel was the mysterious army boy who had travelled and lived in India's exotic locations; one of the reasons that made everyone gravitate towards him. He had gone from being in a group of boys who laughed at the civvy kids to being one of the civvys. And this time around, he was proud of them.

The D'mello's put together a routine of Sunday's which started with trips to the church for mass and gurudwara for Seva. Then Joseph would drive them to Wimpys Burgers where Amrita and Jessie would debate about the books they read and the theories of intersectional feminism and masculinity while Joel and Dadu would discuss the latest jazz vinyls in the market. After their bellies had been filled, Joseph would take them to Sasson Docks where a small fleet of his ships brought in his imports, which were stored in a government issued warehouse.

But peace has a habit of being disrupted

Taglist - Please DM me if you wanna be removed.

@warnermeadowsgirl @noor-archive

@harrystyleskiwi9 @layinglowkey

@scentedwolfdragon @batata04 @clownoiogy

@gumsumchandni @celestecelina @taliareads

@niniismz @avasif

@yaririya @friskymary

It's 2:40 am and I'm editing this cuz idkkkkkkk. I don't know what to say. I hope you all like this. Scheduling this post now so it releases in the morning. I've never done this before so I hope it goes smoothly

Chapter 14 - Metamorphosis -

Part 2 - City of Dreams

12th March 1993

Their day in school started like any other day. A Friday that was spent studying heavier subjects in the first half, and arts, music, sports, PT in the second; not to mention the school house activities that The Cathedral was adamant on making the kids participate in.

The Cathedral had four houses. Palmer, Savage, Wilson and Braham. Jessie was in Savage (Green) due to her affiliations to Volleyball and the fierceness she would show in debate competitions. While Joel was in Wilson (Blue) known for being the cool class monitor as well as the maths enthusiast and for being a brilliant chess player.

Friday was mostly assigned for inter house competitions and activities. While Kendriya Vidyalaya and APS (Army Public School) had huge lawns assigned for themselves, the Cathedral used places like Oval Maidan or Azad Maidan to conduct these classes.

Joel was sitting in the cafeteria, which was situated on the terrace of The Cathedral. It was the unofficial monitor gathering area where they could sit and spend their free time. Besides, the terrace offered a sprawling view of the Fort Area. Joel could see Jessie in her green uniform and her classmates of the Under 13 team as tiny specks, sitting on the ground of the Oval maidan, their teacher nowhere to be seen. He wondered why he was made a PT teacher when the man couldn't even look people in the eye.

To the south was the Bombay Stock Exchange. Bombay's gleaming pride that contributed heavily to the economy. And to the East was the humongous and beautiful building that housed the Victoria Terminus.

One moment, he was looking over at his sister and her team members and the next he was frozen on spot after having flinched.

His heart started up an unnatural rhythm as the ground seemed to shake for a minute. The city of Bombay below him came to a standstill as a huge rumble permeated the atmosphere. Joel looked on with horror as the Bombay Stock Exchange building started releasing plumes of smoke from one of its top floors.

Joel spared one glass to the Oval Maidaan where his sister was and saw her crouching to the ground. That's all he saw. And then he was running.

The monitors and prefects were given mock fire drill sessions every month. Joel closed his eyes and felt a calm spread over him. He knew what he had seen. An explosion that had shocked the massive BSE building. As he ran down the stairs towards the general area of the Wilson house classrooms he could hear the public of Bombay scream bloody murder.

As he entered the corridor, doors were opening, teachers and students were peeking out. When a teacher stopped him from running and asked what the noise was, he threw out a, “There was an explosion at the BSE,” and kept running.

He knew the teacher would understand the severity of the noise she had heard despite not being in a classroom that faced the BSE. Joel entered his class and spoke to the female monitor. He didn't yell at her. In fact there was a deathly calm to his voice that snapped his female counterpart to attention.

Joel remembered every moment with clarity, he remembered how they had gathered their classmates and juniors from other classes. He remembered gathering them in batches and staying calm as if his heart wasn't pounding in his chest. The teachers were leading lines of students and descending them to the lower levels and out of the main building. When Joel reached the quadrangle, the students were gathered and sitting in straight lines.

When he stood at attention in front of his house headmistress, Mrs Texeira, all Joel could feel was the anticipation to see his sister. She had been way too close to the BSE.

Joel realised that despite everything, his brain was clean as a slate. He wasn’t overthinking, rationalising or catastrophizing. All his brain had latched on to was the safety of his classmates and his attention on the main gates of the quadrangle. That didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about his sister but there was something in him which was keeping his brain from jumping in a pool of panic.

—-

Jessie sat on the ground in the middle of Oval Maidan, where all their bags and water bottles were kept. The girls of Savage House of class 7th A sat huddled together in their green sports uniform, some stretching, some wiping their sweat, some sipping on their water bottles to keep away the heat, after having finished an hour of Volleyball practice for their interhouse summer tournament.

Maaninee has just made a joke about the new teacher's assistant who had brought the girls here.

He was a lanky man called Arjun, junior to Ms Pereira, their PT teacher. When she brought him to class and told him in front of everyone to take the girls to Oval Maidan, he had physically paled, while Ms Pereira had told him, “it's just a bunch of girls,”

The girls had behaved until they had reached the grounds. After that no one had seen Arjun. He sat far away at the gates of the maidan keeping an eye on the girls while every now and then, they would look at him and giggle at his scared face.

“What's the deal with this guy?” asked Heiny. “Ye humse itna darta kyu hai?”

“Accha hi hai,” replied Pooja. “Chedne me maza aayega,”

All the girls giggled, including Jessie. She wiped the sweat on her neck and looked at her watch.

“Chalo, girls. Get your bags. We gotta go. Nahi toh Pereira ma'am will think this Arjun guy lost us somewhere,”

The giggle that erupted amongst them never reached Jessie's ears. Or it did but it was blocked out by something. Something massive and spine chilling.

A blasting sound echoed across the area making the ground below them almost shake. The minute the sound reached her ears, Jessie instinctively folded her body forward and covered her head, as screams reverberated across the area. When she tilted her head to look up, her heart froze over. The BSE, the pride and shine of Bombay was spitting out what seemed to be black toxic smoke. The next minute, Bombay had erupted into chaos.

Being on the ground kept the girls away from the panicked crowd on the road. But staying there wasn't going to be safe anymore.

“Girls, get up. We gotta go!” yelled Jessie. “NOW!”

No one asked any questions. They trusted their team captain and looked up at her. Just when everyone had strapped their bags to their back and readied themselves, Arjun came running.

“Girls,” he said in a squeaky voice. “We have… ahh.. need to lea–”

His chest was heaving as the man began wheezing. Jessie felt a pang of annoyance hit her. Her racing heart had prepared her to get out of danger, not sit and coddle a fully grown adult.

“Sir? Sir. Are you alright?” asked Leane. She held the man's arm and said, "Let's get you back. Keep walking with me okay? And don't leave my hand,”

The girls moved forward as a unit. Walking together in two parallel lines as they reached the gates of the Oval Maidan. The streets seem to be flooded with people and the BSE building wasn’t visible but Jessie could see the smoke billowing in the sky. The street in front of them was filled with investors from the BSE, lawyers from the Bombay High Court, and students from the Mumbai University.

The University of Mumbai stood strong in front of them and Jessie realised that it might be their only way out of here.

“Heiny, don’t turn anywhere. Go straight and take the Students Gate of the University,” yelled Jessie from the back of the line. Heiny’s brother was a student in the University, making her a frequent user of that particular entrance.

“Babe, I don’t think the guard is gonna let us in,” explained Heiny. She kept moving regardless.

Luck was in their favour as the guard seemed to have abandoned his post and the small steel gate was left open. Jessie stood near the entrance and counted as the girls went through. When all fifteen of them including Jessie and their hyperventilating coach had entered, the group once again moved together.

They made sure to stay in close quarters with each other as the University campus acted as a shield reducing the voice of chaos surrounding them. They crossed the iconic Rajabhai clock tower and the stained glass library of the University of Mumbai. It took them about five to six minutes but for their adrenaline filled systems it felt like a lifetime to cross the campus.

When they spilled out of the backside of the campus, they encountered another hurdle. The road ahead, Mahatma Gandhi (MG) Road, was filled with a massive block of traffic. It wasn’t Mumbai's regular traffic that choked arterial paths as an everyday phenomenon. People were running on the streets with panic filled screams. Some poor souls who weren’t fast enough were falling to the ground and being trampled on.

“Go straight and stick to the buses,” yelled Jessie from the back. Heiny, who was heading the group, manoeuvred their path and cut through the traffic, using the buses as shields. When they were finally out of the traffic and away from MG Road, the girls entered a tight lane that couldn’t let huge vehicles enter the space.

They spent the next eight to ten minutes cutting through similar narrow streets where the chaos was less but Bombay was still screaming and burning. When they neared the Kala Ghoda area which was an open landmark in the middle of the street, it was another chaos filled mayhem. They passed through small book stall owners running and other shop owners pulling their shutters down. Bombay had entered a lockdown in broad daylight and for Jessie, the violation felt a lot like growing up. Her heart pumped unnaturally, the adrenaline making her a little faster than when she ran laps during practice.

No matter how much they tried to evade traffic and chaos, their final way to the school had to be through the same mayhem. When they reached Flora Fountain, the girls and their teacher Arjun, ran through the chaos and crossed over to the other side onto Dr Dadabhai Naoroji Road. After that it was a matter of five to ten minutes.

Jessie’s heart thumped in her chest as they ran exposed on the chaos filled street. She made sure the girl's green uniform, as well as the teacher’s brown tracksuit was visible ahead of her. When they took a turn into a smaller road and saw the building right beside their school, Jessie thought she could cry out of sheer relief.

As soon as the gate of their school came into view, Jessie took hold of the steel rails and pulled. The heavy gate didn’t move. The clanging noise brought out a guard from inside the school, who gave them a suspicious look.

“Arey, Arjun sir,” exclaimed the guard and then he was opening the gates.

‘Great,’ thought Jessie. The guard had a problem with girls who were wearing school uniforms but not with the new professor who had just joined a few months back.

Jessie felt her team captain duties take over, as she went ahead near the gate and started a head count. When her mouth counted a perfect fifteen including herself, she rushed into the quadrangle. The open area was shielded by the Victorian school building, but the chaos there could be described as nothing else but controlled. The headmasters and headmistresses of every house, stood in front of lines of students from their assigned houses.

Jessie held herself in place, as the headmistress of her house, Mrs Gonzales, took her own headcount of the girls volleyball team. The moment it was done, Jessie flew through the quadrangle and cut a path straight towards her brother. She couldn't care less about Mrs Gonzalez shouting at her for running as Jessie reached Joel and threw her arms around Joel’s neck.

She clung to him and felt Joel wrapping his arms around his middle. Jessie felt her stiff shoulders go lax as Joel pulled back and started checking her head, arms and legs for any wounds or signs of harm.

“I'm okay, Jojo,” said Jessie. “You should see the other guy. Poor Arjun sir is not gonna be able to speak for the next few days,”

Joel chuckled and it lit Jessie up too.

“You did good, Jessie Bes–”

BOOM

A muffled but dangerous sound permeated the quadrangle making the teachers and house heads look at each other. Jessie was made to sit in her green house line while Joel went at the beginning of the Blue House line.

Jessie realised sitting in one place while Bombay skies reverberated with the sound of explosions was worse than running amok in the middle of panic riddled people.

Just when Jessie thought she could relax or find some semblance of peace, another sound broke the silence.

This wasn’t muffled like earlier and felt as if it was right next door. And it really was.

A third bomb had gone off at Nariman Point Bombay.

12th March, 1993 was the day when Bombay came to a standstill and saw thirteen bombs go off one after the other in areas that were the nerve centres of Bombay.

Amrita had been picked up by Joseph's driver Anthony in their Ambassador and the duo had gone to pick up the twins from school. Amrita had hugged her kids the moments they had entered the car. But the vehicle had been a bad choice. They remained stuck in traffic until Anthony swerved into smaller lanes and got them out.

When the news came out that the explosives were transported via sea and hosted on the ports of Mumbai, ATS had put every dock operation on hold. Joseph D’mello faced heavy losses as every ship carrying raw material was held back and thoroughly checked, his warehouses raided. Despite all that, Joseph didn’t panic. He came from old money and the loss he incurred wasn’t even a smidgen of the family wealth he owned. When investors started pulling out of the stock markets, Joseph let his stocks tank and earned double when the market went up, as the city started recovering by 1994.

The blasts might’ve messed with his business but by 1994, Joseph was wholly back in business providing expensive spirits and bottles of The Mellows to his vendors.

Two years after living with Joseph in the summer of 1994, when Jessie's flight landed in Ludhiana and she stepped foot on Punjab’s soil with Amrita and Joel, she worried that the Rangis might not recognise her, especially Jassi, and would want to keep Harleen away from her Jhalli hippie version, that held vigilance instead of curiosity in her eyes.

But the Rangis stayed the same and so did Jassi and Harleen.

They went from kids teasing each other to teenagers who taught each other English, Karate, and made sure the khet they entered didn’t have a hidden intruder.

One day during their summer vacation in 1994, Jessie had woken up at the same time as Jassi's run and asked Harjinder whether she could join too. Pinda had also joined them, half asleep, scratching his cheek.

When Jessie joined the boys and took part in their daily routine, she had ended up with legs that felt like jelly, a cramping stomach and laid face down on the sofa right after the run. Her karate taught her endurance but Harjinder's drills were designed from the mindset of an ex BSF jawan who wanted his son to succeed.

Joel who has spent almost all his childhood being made to feel like a failure by his father took it as a challenge. Harjinder didn't cut Jassi or the other kids any slack but his discipline didn't make the kids feel worthless.

Soon it became a group activity where Jessie, Joel, Pinda and Jassi would wake up and practise together with Harleen being the cutest cheerleader running along with them or standing near the finish lines with water. Sometimes if Jessie or Joel fell behind or ran out of breath and couldn't move, Harleen would dangle the idea of their favourite novels or vinyl records to motivate them.

There were times when Jessie felt as if he was cheating on her father, but then she would remember the bruises on her brother's arm or the phantom pain of a slap on her cheek. And she would run as if she could outrun every painful memory of her father.

That's how Jessie found out that she loved speed. The feeling of the wind whipping through her hair made her feel invincible.

In October 1995, when Joseph was going to drop the kids and Amrita to school and college respectively, he had taken them to the parking lot of the building. Jessie had noticed a huge line of bikes with a board written on the wall ‘Room no 401-404’

“Dadu, are these your bikes?” asked Jessie awestruck.

“Your father used to ride them in college,” replied Joseph. “Then he became a soldier and said he didn't need anything that came from my money. So I've kept them here to collect dust,”

“Mumma, didn't you say ki aap aur Jasleen Maasi pind me bike chalaati thi?”

“Yes,” said Amrita, rummaging through her bag for something. She frowned when Jessie held her elbow and shook it.

“Mumma, tell me no!”

Amrita couldn't answer as her eyes had been transfixed on the bikes in front of her. Especially the Royal Enfield 350 which she had spent countless hours on, riding pillion with Daniel.

The moment had been broken when Joel had joined them to get in Joseph's car but the old man had caught it. It wasn't some longing but the yearning to be free. To ride on the beast and never stop. Mother and daughter were similar like that.

That weekend, Joseph had bought Jessie a bicycle at 15 and got his son's Royal Enfield parked outside. The moment Amrita had started the bike and it started purring between her legs, she realised that she could never be the same.

She didn't get it right the first time and the nylon sport suit made her slip quite a few times when she tried to mount the bike. The heaviness of the bike had been difficult to handle at first, but in the coming months Amrita had conquered the monstrosity of a vehicle into submission.

Weekends were Jessie and Joel's favourite because Amrita would make them sit behind her and zoom into the day leaving grease on the ground.

During the 1993 bomb blasts, because Joel had been the first person to raise the alarm and had started evacuating kids of his own class, the Blue House Headmistress had appreciated his calmness under pressure and had made sure that Joel received an award for services to the school.

The award was a massive win for Blue House Wilson, but for Joel it was a harsh reminder that he was more similar to his father than he wanted. He knew he should be happy that he had been calm and collected during a crisis but he hated the fact that his school was thinking of him as his father's son.

Joel had been secretly resisting the Army aspiration that his father had lugged on his shoulder. He wanted to tell the man to his face that he would not be joining the Army. And in a very juvenile thought process, had decided that he would be flying planes in the Air Force because that meant he would be doing more intellectual stuff than his father.

And the thought had stuck. The boys who had taken Joel under their wing in sixth standard were now baffled that he didn't want to join them for lunch or hang out with them after school. Joel seemed to have isolated himself in a world where only his aspiration and his family existed.

There was another person who had managed to enter this fold. Lucas Jacob. Their gardener and neighbour Kainaaz’s grandson and Joel’s classmate. Whenever Joel had seen that boy in school, Lucas was being bullied by his peers for acting like a girl. They would pull his hair, throw away his bottles and books and lock him into classrooms just for shits and giggles.

Joel had tried to be as less involved as possible but had never intervened. In fact he had been surprised to see Jessie do it. He remembered when Lucas was about to be locked into the locker room cupboards outside the chess room. She had come to meet Joel but had ended up shouting at a gang of boys her age who were trying to shove Lucas inside a cupboard.

After that Lucas spent more time with Jessie and her volleyball team than with the boys, the Volleyball team members having unofficially adopted him.

But life in Imperial Chambers was a different story. Lucas would spend most of the time on the terrace of the building, walking on the concrete paths of the greenscaped garden. When Joel had found him the first time, Lucas had flinched and almost started crying.

That was the first time Joel had realised that someone being scared of you was an extremely horrible feeling, something that made Joel feel repulsed with himself. He hated it and Lucas reminded him of his own scared eleven year old self who would start shaking the moment Major Daniel would enter the house.

It had taken him four to five tries to actually sit beside him and not have Lucas break into a cold sweat. They would sit and memorise body organs and solve maths problems on the concrete benches on the terrace in the evening. Occasionally Joel would bring a football and the two boys would end up playing against each other, their time filled with laughter and jokes.

When Joel first realised that he didn't just like spending time with Lucas but also liked him enough to want to kiss him like SRK did to his heroines, he didn't show up on the terrace for a week. When he did come back, Lucas held up five roses that looked a few days old.

“Mein tere liye laya tha, lekin tu aya hi nahi,” said Lucas.

“Sorry. I was studying. I love roses by the way. And if you were to get your hands on more, I'd love to see them,”

“I'll get them for you,” said Lucas with a smile, his glasses lopsided and hair haggard.

Joel had told Jessie that the roses were brought for Lucas’s grandmother but he decided to give some to Jessie and Joel for being his good friends. Jessie had rolled her eyes and Joel had felt irritation claw at him. He wanted to yell at her and ask what was so wrong with a boy giving flowers to his friend.

When Jessie had walked in on them hugging and almost kissing, Joel had pushed Lucas away and looked at Jessie with a guilty smile. The next day, Joel was surprised when Jessie didn't ignore him, or tell Mumma or didn't act mean towards him. She still annoyed him by stealing his bandanas but they never spoke about it again. Joel thought he might've imagined it but there were times when she traced her steps back and left them alone.

When their tenth board exams started, Lucas, Jessie and Joel would hole up in the twins' shared room and study all night. There were times when Jessie would fall asleep and Lucas and Joel would sit on the balcony holding hands.

Earlier, the boys messing with Lucas had been background noise but now it mattered. Every time Joel saw someone throwing Lucas's notebook across the class, he would call out the boy and use his monitor powers to get them to sit in their places. He would shout a false alarm about a teacher coming in and get the boys back in their places.

Things had been going great. But a sixteen year old boy who still wasn't sure about his place in the world and was fighting for his own identity was a live wire with unpredictable potential.

So when push came to shove, he did what any sixteen year old would do under peer pressure. He gave into his insecurities and hurt the only boy in class who gave a damn about him.

Taglist - Please DM me if you wanna be removed.

@warnermeadowsgirl @noor-archive @harrystyleskiwi9 @layinglowkey @scentedwolfdragon @batata04 @clownoiogy

@gumsumchandni @celestecelina @taliareads @niniismz @avasif

@yaririya @friskymary