“Secret”

Image Courtesy: Senash Thanuja, Unsplash

I have been called to Mrs. Mehta’s room. I know I am in trouble. I am the strange girl in my class. I am too eager. I answer all questions, in my head. My face barely hides my excitement. Miss know-it-all, my friends mock me. Are they friends? Mummy tells me they are. They are all good students. They are all my friends. The teacher just said she will take an extra class in the last period. Period. My friends laugh. They giggle with secret knowledge. I laugh too. They look at me in distaste. I look away. The tree outside is dancing with joy. There is a breeze today. Soon the leaves will fall. Soon.

I have a secret too. I have learnt we have arteries and veins. They pump blood. To all the corners of the body. But mine are broken. Like the water pipe at the back of the house. Which fills our tank. Where lilies grow. They are white in colour. Mummy will plant a pink one too. My arteries and veins are broken. Just like the pipe. I need to be fixed. I think I will fall. Like the leaves in the school compound.

I walk slowly to Mrs. Mehta’s room. I have to be careful. I have to hold it in. I have tied my sweater. My friends will not see me. They never do. They will not laugh. Soon I will fall.

Last summer my favourite cat fell too. She was golden in colour with white splashes of light. She would purr and stretch and crawl, an absolute delight. She was little. She had blue and green eyes. Like the dolls I have. But larger, warmer, better. She fell sick and went away. She went and fell somewhere. Like the leaves from the togor tree. Crowding my garden. Some blow in the wind. I will go and fall too. But will the winds carry me? Where will I fall?

I think I will fall at the pond beside my house. There is a field nearby. And lots and lots of trees. With red and yellow and lavender flowers. They all look the same with different colours. Like my friends. All different. All same. I have no colour. I am brown. I think I will fall beside the pond. It is pretty. The sun sets there in oranges and yellows. I sit and read and watch the sun. I think mummy will worry. She will look for me, like we looked for our cat. But she has bhai to play with. I knock on Mrs. Mehta’s door. We don’t call her teacher like others. She calls to me and asks me if something is wrong. I nod no. I will quietly go and fall. It is one more period to go. She looks at me and raises her hand. Will she hit me? No. She puts her hand on my face. It is Warm. Smells like butter. I like it. She smiles. She tells me she knows my secret. I tell her I am a machine at fault. I tell her I will fall quietly today. At the end of the day. With the dying sun. She smiles and pulls me to her. She tells me there are better ways of dying yet. And tells me the secret to my secret. I am glad I won’t fall today. Daddy will take us to the sea this Saturday. I like the sea, and its blues and soft greys.

Monograph Magazine, Vol 7, April 2022

Republished by Chewers by Masticadores, September, 2025, https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2025/01/27/secret-by-rituparna-mukherjee/