I could hear someone knocking at the door.
Must be the cleaning lady. She is not supposed to clean the rooms in the morning. She is supposed to do that in the afternoon when the students are back from the classes. She must have seen my door unlocked and decided to sweep now so she can go home early.
Idiot, won’t let me sleep. I was so annoyed and angry with her.
“Come in. The door isn’t locked” I hollered.
I did hear her opening the door, but I didn’t bother to take the blanket off my face. Light always made my migraine worst.
There was an eerie kind of silence and instantly I knew there was something wrong.
I pulled the blanket off my face and looked at the door.
I was pretty sure my heart stopped beating.
There in the doorway stood Princy, asst Princy, warden, asst warden and all the cleaning ladies.
All that was missing in the parade was the chanting of political slogans and a flag.

And I was still in my home clothes, aka a t shirt (that I had painted with wordings that were funny/cute/daring as a teenager) and an old faded salwar bottom.
I got up and sat in the bed. There was no way I could get up from the bed without embarrassing myself. I had been wanting to stitch the torn ‘mootti ‘ of my salwar.

I had been!

There is nothing more embarrassing than to sit in your own bed, in your own room and be a public display to strangers.
I looked at the princy hoping he is old enough to understand how embarrassing this is turning out to be for me and close the damn door, so I can get dressed.
He was waiting to have eye contact and he screamed
“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you go for the morning rounds?”
I thought of asking him the same. The nerve he has.
“I have migraine sir” I replied.
“Migraine?”
“Yes, Sir”
“Do you have a medical certificate?”
Moron, how do you get a medical certificate for migraine, when you are having it right now? How do nitwits like him pass medicine and then practice medicine?
“No sir”
“Why?, how dare you ah?” He started to scream and yell and if he had known how my father behaves when he is angry, he would have known screaming and yelling at me is pointless. I tune myself out.
I looked at the happy gleaming face of the warden.
Why do people feel happy when someone is getting yelled at? What kind of a perverse satisfaction is that?
Idiots. Whole bunch of idiots.
“You have to bring your father before you are allowed to attend classes”.
“Make sure you have a word with her father” Princy spoke to the warden.
“Sir that is not going to be difficult” I spoke
Princy looked at me.
“My father works overseas Sir”
“Then bring your mother”
I wasn’t going to bring my mother for something so trivial. I was old enough to vote in India and if I wanted to skip a class, I had the right to do so and I will.
“that is also not possible sir. My mother lives with my father overseas sir”
Amma would have had a heart attack if she had heard me.
“Who is your local guardian?” Princy was screaming.
You don’t have to scream to ask a question, unless you are angry because you aren’t getting anywhere with me. I thought
“Currently no one sir. My parents have entrusted me with taking care of my younger sisters” I kind of indirectly told him that I am my own guardian at the same time I conveniently avoided talking about my older sister.
I thought Princy was going to have a heart attack or at least a stroke. His face looked so contorted.
“Get a medical certificate and come and see me this afternoon. Do you understand that?” He screamed so loud that I thought even the door shook. I thought of asking him if this was the best he could do? Then he needed to see my father in his element. he could get a few pointers from my dad as to how to ‘actually’ terrify innocent victims.
He huffed and turned to walk away. Vice Princy followed him like a dog following the master, then the warden, followed by the assistant warden. Finally it was the cleaning lady’s turn to leave and she looked at me with that look that said, ‘serves you right’ and I was the idiot who always gave my old clothes to her.
Gratitude in times of trouble? Nah!
“Amma, close the door” I ordered
She obeyed.
I pulled the blanket over my face and laid down.
I was so angry. So so so angry.
There should be a limit to invading someones personal space. No princy, no warden, no anyone had the right to invade my personal space.
And like everything in India, when it came to a woman, there were no rules, no laws, no nothing.
I couldn’t wait to get out of India.