Bound By Wound

The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the kitchen, a welcome invasion that signaled the start of another day. I stretched languidly in my bed, the morning sun painting stripes across my room through the curtains.

“Eisha, how many times will I have to tell you to get up early in the morning? Your father doesn’t like it if you get up so late!” my mother, Saira, called out, her voice laced with familiar frustration. She walked away before I could even formulate a reply.

With a sigh, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. The cool floor was a sharp contrast to the warmth I’d left behind. Glancing at the clock, my eyes widened. “Oh shoot, aaj to sachme mere lectures chhut jaenge!” I muttered, leaping to my feet. A quick change into a light blue co-ord set, a dab of light makeup – yes, Eisha, you are pretty enough – and I was out the door, forgetting breakfast in my rush.

“Mama, I’ll eat in the canteen, don’t worry, now I have to go!” I yelled over my shoulder, already halfway down the driveway. Martial arts student or not, I could run when I needed to.

At college, the usual chaos greeted me. “HI EVERY LOGZZ!” I greeted my friends, my voice echoing through the bustling hall. Rohan, ever the stickler, asked, “Eisha, aaj itni late kese hogyi aap?”

“Me nach rhi thi phir yaad aya ki college bhi jana hai,” I deadpanned, ignoring his sigh. He was the first one I’d murder, honestly.

We were lining up for the medical college pledge when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Areej. My best friend. Grinning. I spun around, ready to chew her out for ignoring me yesterday. This was going to be a long day.