Over the first weekend since their return to town, they watched sunset as Vishal introduced his song, just as he promised, about Orion, playing his guitar to Mitra. The song was hauntingly beautiful, about a mistaken friendship that ended in bloodshed, with the innermost feelings of each character of the story hidden and misinterpreted by each other, and the moon was the silent witness in the tale.
The song was bright in its tune despite the darkness of its lyrics, something that Mitra loved.
There was one problem, however. The song was in Hindi, and the respective word meaning 'moon' didn't rhyme well in one of the lines. As they struggled with rephrasing the lyrics, nothing matched as well as the original lyric structure, yet the synonyms they knew of 'moon' didn't fit in the lyric of the song.
Mitra cycled back home as it became dark and stopped a couple of lanes away from her house, got down her bicycle and started walking with her cycle in tow. It gave her some time to think, ponder over the lyrics they were working on.
She walked past the few people who were out and about on the road, the residents of the colony she lived in going about their works and evening routines. She turned a corner to the lane leading to her house, humming the tune of the song all the while. Yet, she always stopped at the troublesome line, simulating the particular lyric with different words to find the right one.
Slowing down to allow herself some more time to think, she hummed the song as she treaded towards home.
And then, the word hit her.
"Sashi!" Mitra cried out loud.
Snapping back into her awareness of the surroundings, she zapped her lips shut and frantically looked around to see if anyone had noticed her sudden outburst. The lane was deserted, something that was usual.
She smiled to herself and then glanced up at the starlit sky with the moon ascending at the horizon. Excitedly, she raised her hand up, pointed a finger at the moon and repeated the word as if she was calling it, "Sashi! That's it! The synonym!"
Mitra now sang out the lyrics with the word 'Sashi' incorporated in it, beaming widely as the song came as a whole. She rushed to her home animatedly and even before she could put her bag down in her room, she rang up Vishal at his home and literally screamed into the phone, "I completed the song!"
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It was the extra-curricular activities class and the students split up as they headed to separate classrooms pertaining to their chosen field: music, art and dance. It was the only elective which Mitra and Vishal didn't share.
Vishal was into music while Mitra chose art. She was mediocre in oils and fared better with pencil sketches; and considering her abysmal skills of dancing and reading music notes, art was the best choice for her.
That day however, Vishal stopped her from going to the art class and seeked her out to join him in the music room. He was carrying his guitar and Mitra realized his plan before he confided in her.
"No," she started as soon as she caught the meaning in his gaze. "No Vishal, I am not going to sing along with you."
"You just have to sing a few words and hum a little, that's all. Like how you have been doing all along. It sounds so good," he tried to reason with her.
"It would sound like someone is trying to ruin the song," Mitra protested.
"No, it won't. I swear, you and I harmonize really well."
It took a bit of cajoling for Mitra to ask her art teacher for permission and slip into the music room. When Vishal offered to present his new song, the other students were surprised to see Mitra joining him to perform a duet. To them, Mitra wasn't a singer; there wouldn't have been any other reason for her to choose art over music if she could even hum properly.
Yet, when Vishal started playing his guitar and singing and Mitra sang at the right places, the song seemed perfect. They did harmonize really well and the song itself was fresh and beautiful. As the voices and the strings struck the right chord with the students, they became enraptured with the charm of it.
A big applause broke as the song ended. A couple of encouraging shouts were heard as the rest of the students said various versions of 'wow'. Their teacher appreciated them as she termed their performance as the best she had seen in years. She made them promise that they would perform during their Annual Day celebrations too.
Amidst all the commotion, Lekha sat watching the duo grin and accept compliments.
Music class was the only hour Lekha had for herself where she could hear Vishal sing, talk and maybe interact with her if needed, without Mitra's disturbing presence. Lekha always waited for music class, for she felt closer to Vishal during that one hour. Yet, again, Mitra had intruded on her space.
Yes, the song was beautiful, and Lekha had loved every bit of it, more so because it was Vishal who had written it.
Mitra accompanying him for a duet, however, stabbed Lekha differently.
She felt very furious, almost murderous.
After the class ended, the students headed to their homeroom and Lekha, who had stormed off the music room much earlier out of anger, arrived first in the homeroom. She saw the math notebooks of all her classmates stacked on top of the teacher's desk.
The teacher had been grading their assignments and had kept the stack of graded notebooks on her table to return them to the students after their elective class.
Lekha impulsively surfed through the stack of notebooks, found Mitra's notebook and threw it out of the classroom window.