Tonight was perhaps the most wild night of my life, which is sad because it happened to be the birthday party of a six year old.

And it was not exactly night either, but more like late evening, the party was over by seven thirty.

My sister was on a sugar rush,  savagely ripping open presants while mercilessly chucking balls of crumpled wrapping paper in my face.

I, like any responsible sister, was trying to get her to sleep.

Finally, after countless failed attempts, the devil was snoring in her new pyjamas, gifted by Kian.

Oh great! Now I couldn't stop picturing his face. He had a nice face, have I mentioned that before?

Allowing myself to continue my day dream for another fifteen minutes, I sighed and sunk down on the sofa. Munching on a leftover pizza slice, I relived certain specific five minutes of that evening.

Alia had played a romantic track from the latest Karan Johar film to spice things up between Kian and I. Unfortunately for her (and fortunately for me), upon the protests of whiny six year olds, her match making plan went down the drain. Giving in, she changed the song to a mildly inappropriate Honey Singh party number.

However, this change in beat did the opposite of what Alia had expected. According to her plan, we were supposed to be slow dancing on a fifty centimeter by hundred centimeter newspaper. But now, we were jumping on it to the beats of some shitty song, trying our best not to touch each other.

We were not very successful though. The rule of paper dance was to fold the paper after every pause. We got through the first, foldless stage without touching.

Although after the first fold, the lengths of our arms were continuously brushing against each other.

After the second fold, we had to move as close as we could without embracing.

Three folds later, Kian gave up and wrapped his arms around my waist. I believe a strange sound had escaped from my mouth at that, but neither of us noticed.

I placed my forearms on his chest, with my fingers curving over his shoulders and thumb resting on his coller bone. All this while, we were moving with the fast beats of some Punjabi song.

I'm pretty sure at one point, our noses also brushed against each other.

However, I staggered back when that happened and we never made it to the fourth fold stage.

I have yet to decide whether or not I am happy about that.

Yawing, I checked the time.

Ten fifteen.

Ma had texted me saying that she and papa would be back by one thirty and that they'd call me instead of ringing the bell. And that I should not wait up for them.

Ha! Easier said than done. I'd rather stay up late than break my sleep to open a door. I wish my father had installed one of those automatic locks.

Deciding that since I was going to stay awake, I might as well practice thermodynamics numericals. It was my wild night after all.

Before I could continue with my exciting plans, my silent phone glowed. Expecting another text from my mother, I reached out for it, only to be greeted by a cute grinning face belonging to the object of my day dreams.

"Hello?"

"Are you awake?" Kian's voice asked in my left ear.

Great! Just great! He was one of those people whose voice over the phone is better than their actual voice.

"No, I am sleep talking."

"I'm serious Ash."

Sighing, I said, "honestly Kian, if I actually was asleep, I would have never in a million years answered your call."

"Okay okay point taken. Are your parents home?"

My eyes nearly popped out of my skull after hearing that, "excuse me?"

"I asked if your parents are home."

"And why do you need to know that?" As much as I liked this boy, I was super cautious about my safety.

"Ashiana please don't tell me that you're thinking that I might attack you or something."

"Alright, I won't tell you that. But I've heard hundreds of stories about how some trustworthy person broke the trust of the person who trusted him."

"Ash, I am not a rapist. Now please, if you're alone, could you come out in the lift lobby for a moment?"

"Wha_"

"I am waiting," he said, inturrupting me.

He hung up after that.

I stared at my phone for five minutes before dialling his number again.

"Ashiana I swear, I am unarmed and in my pyjamas and_"

"Aarna is sleeping, I can't leave her alone."

"Okay, so can I come to your place?"

"Yeah."

I had barely disconnected the call when the doorbell rang. Was he standing outside the entire time?

"Creep," I muttered, before opening the door and letting him in.

True to his word, he was unarmed and in blue coloured three-fourths with red polka dots. His t-shirt was pale yellow in colour and had a picture of Jerry.

I tried to control it, but an amused smile did surface on my face.

"Is this your favourite night suit?"

"Yes, now please don't make fun of me. I am not in the mood."

"Alright.....about the dance earlier..."

"What about it? It was just a game Ash, forget it."

His words sounded a bit forced if I was not mistaken. Though I didn't linger much on that thought and jumped straight at the oppurtunity to make things less awkward.

"Of course, yeah, it was no big deal."

There was a moment's pause. In that moment, a flash of things rushed through my head.

How my father had a tendency to 'suprise' people by arriving earliar than what he actually said.

How I was alone with one of the most good looking guys I know in real life.

How my sister was asleep in the bedroom and that she was not a deep sleeper, and that she also loved being a snitch.

How on that very same spot where Kian was standing right now, he had gripped my sides just about three hours ago.

"Can I sit down?"

You can but you may not.

I bit my tongue to keep the retort inside me.

"Yeah sure."

After settling down, I turned to him.

"Okay what's up?"

"I....I don't know...I just...my parents gifted Kanishk a new car. A brand new silver Honda Amaze."

My jaw hung open.

"Are you kidding me? Is that it? You're jealous? Don't worry, in a couple of years they'll buy a car for you as well."

He rolled his eyes, "jealous? Do you seriously think I am that petty?"

"And do you seriously think that I can read minds? Spell it out would ya?"

"You're very rude."

"Yes, and I am also dense. So, please be clear."

"Fine, my parents bought him a car with complete down payment. Cash," he said, looking at me meaningfully.

"I am starting to comprehend the situation, but you're still not straight up telling me everything."

He sighed, "The cash is nothing but hoarded up taxation money. That car is a symbol of dishonesty. I hate it. And I don't know why, but I am feeling ashamed. The earliest memory I have of my father is him telling me tales of panchatantra and giving me moral lessons. Never lie, never steal, never break anyone's trust. And then, he does this in the name of business? Talk about hypocrisy! And then bam! I feel guilty for calling my parents hypocrites. This shit is so confusing. Are moral obligations only limited to kids? Do adults have no liability towards, I don't know, humanity? Goodness? Is this all really acceptable?" He took a deep breath after finishing the mini monologue.

"Woah! I had asked you to spell it out clearly and you went out and attacked me with words. Do you need water?" I said, smiling teasingly.

"No I am fine thanks. And sorry about that, it's just, that's how I feel."

"Yeah, your feelings are quite clear now. And I was joking by the way, no need to say sorry."

"I cannot be too sure when it comes to you Ash," he said, in a subdued voice. "You have a perfect poker face. So perfect that it is sometimes impossible to tell whether you're being sarcastic or serious."

Somewhere in my head, Chandler Bing's voice echoed.

'Could he be anymore cuter?'

I beamed at him while standing up, "Aww thanks. That's probably the best compliment I've ever received."

"I didn't realise I was complimenting you." He sounded a bit dazed.

Walking over to the fridge, I started shuffling though its contents.

"Well it was."

I took out a blue tupperware and entered the drawing room again. Opening the plastic container, I kept it on the center table.

"Here help yourself. I'm too pissed at my parents to save it for them."

He took a slice and munched on it as I sat down and did the same. For a while, we sat together quietly, stuffing our mouths with the cold, leftover, Dominoes weekend special,  peppy-paneer pizza. When all the four slices had disappeared, I broke the silence.

"You know, I can't say that I respect your parents, because I don't. But I cannot really classify them as bad people either. That's the thing about actions you know? They're always relative to the situations. For instance, imagine a society where everyone is honest and one erson is caught lying. In that case, he would be considered a huge criminal. Imagine another society where every other person is a murderer. Lying would not be the worst crime over there. What your parents do is wrong. It is harmful for the economy and creates problems for the government. It may also indirectly have a negative effect on the already bad condition of the poor. But it is not a big deal as nearly everyone is guilty of being corrupt."

"This is not making me feel better," Kian said.

"It's not supposed to. And I am pretty sure you are already feeling better since your long-ass word vomit. What I want to tell you is that adults have a greater liability towards humanity and goodness as compared to children. But they also have a better understanding of the relative nature of good things and bad things. Or atleast, that's what they think."

"I am not getting it." He frowned.

"Alright, whay makes you feel better when you see that you've got bad marks in a test?"

"I am not sure....getting good marks in another test?"

"Yes, but what makes you feel better instantly after the result?"

He gave me a blank stare.

"Okay, so when a fourteen year old sees that he has scored thirteen out of forty in math, the first thing he'd do, after checking and rechecking for calculaion errors, is ask the person sitting next to him about his marks. As soon as he comes to know that his partner has scored fifteen, he'd feel a bit better. Once he realises that almost half the class has failed the test, he would be back to normal again, or even perhaps become shamelessly cheerful. It's almost as if the bad grade isn't bad anymore, it's simply common. For humans a bad or an immoral act becomes normal, infact, it becomes acceptable, when most people commit it. Also, you must've seen what happens to the minority students who score well right? They are jokingly mocked, or even cursed for being little geniuses. They haven't worked hard, they're just uncommonly intelligent. Commending their hardwork would be admitting that you've not worked hard enough. Similarly, an honest human is not a good person, he's a goody-two shoes."

Kian let out an incredulous chuckle. "Wow, that was so relatable and enlightening. Strangely, it also makes sense."

"I know right?"

"So then, what should I do?"

"Nothing, you can't stop loving your parents and you can't be okay with their habit either. I always feel that if you cannot help better a situation, you should simply ignore it altogether. The same way you ignore a begger on the street when you don't have any change. Some would say it would make you a cowardly bystander, I would say it would make you a logical human being. As superheroes, or even Gods cannot solve every problem. If they could, then there wouldn't have been world hunger or cancer or any other major global concern."

He nodded, "Right, so I should continue to love them, ignore their faults and try to be a better person than them."

"Exactly. It is not ideal, but it's practical. Something that you can do."

"Yes, yes it is something that I can do. Thanks. Anyway I should go." He got up and I followed.

"It's almost twelve and I have to be in bed before my father gets up for a midnight snack."

"Wait! So you've left your door unlocked?"

"Nah, Kanishk knows that I am here. But don't worry, he only thinks that I am wooing you, old school style. He trusts me to not do anything stupid."

"Oh thank God!" I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Wait, can I ask you something?"

'You can but you may not.' My subconscious smirked.

"Uh huh..."

"Why...why did you decide to discuss this with me?"

"You're my best friend."

My insides almost melted. Now I know many people would say that I've been friend zoned, but I felt special when he said that.

"I don't..."

"Yeah yeah, you don't believe in best friends. But you're mine, deal with it." He shrugged, grinning.

"So what about Karan?"

"He's cool, but not best friend material you know? And since we're talking about Karan, lemme tell you that you're not good for his ego."

"What about you?" I hesitatingly asked.

"What about me?"

"Am I good for your ego?"

In response he just chuckled, turned, and walked out of the house.

I cleared up the table. Like a good girl who doesn't invite boys over late at night, I settled on my study table, immersing myself in the laws of thermodynamics.

{[]}

The next few days went by normally. Contrary to what I was fearfully anticipating, there was no change in the dynamics between Kian and I.

We joked around with Aryan in the bus and walked to class together. In school, we hung out with different people. Not because we wanted to avoid each other but because I was never in the mood to talk to Karan. And Kian was with him all the time.

I preferred third-wheeling with Vivaan and Radhika during lessons and gossiping with Aditya during the break.

Aditya never failed to inform me about whatever Karan said about me. They were not very pleasant things most of the time.

And also, he also made sure to let me know of his exhasperation with the two of us.

But I understood where he was coming from.

My friendship with Aditya was strange. We never contacted each other outside school except for a short text here and there. I couldn't remember the last time I had phoned him, it might've been three to four years ago.

While on the other hand, Karan ignored him during school hours. But called him everyday after school to talk about anything and everything.

Like I said, strange.

Anyway, as we moved closer to ninth November, two things increased.

One, our disappoiment due to the temperature which simply refused to decrease. Everyone was so sick of summer.

And two, the agitation of all the UBIs in my school.

UBI was my short form for unfortunately born in India.

All these kids wanted was to migrate to the United States after school. First for college and then for jobs.

It was not only the USA but countries like Australia, Canada  and UK as well. Although USA was the most common destination.

These students were growing restless due to the promises of a certain presidential candidate. They were afraid that their plan would go down the drain.

I was a bit confused, however. I thought his immigration policies were only for asylum seekers from areas of the world under conflict.

Either way, I was not too keen to clarify my doubts. It was not as if the results would affect me, atleast not directly.

Besides, I don't think anyone was blind enough to vote for a bloated orange cheeto who seemed to be in love with hair bleach....

{[]}

It was tuesday and the day off at 'Wings- the coaching center'.

Ma had snached the phone from my hands when I showed signs of growing extra attached to it. She announced that I would get it back once I was done with my school work.

Huffing, puffing, and trying my best not to kick random stuff while storming out of the kitchen, I went to the room and slammed the door shut.

It had only been a second after I had lowered my backside on my chair that the door was slammed open again.

My mother walked in, looking furious.

"What was that," she said in a deadly voice.

"Nothing...." I meekly replied.

"It didn't seem like nothing Ashiana. You learn to behave yourself otherwise you won't be getting your phone back until you turn eighteen."

I blanched at her words but tried my best to answer as indignantly as possible, "What? Am I not allowed to express myself any longer?"

"If this is how you express yourself then no, you're not."

"We live in a democracy."

"Outside this house, yes. Inside this house, I am the dictator
and no one disrespects me. It that clear?"

Without waiting for my reply, she slammed the door in my face.

Fuming, I took out my homework and tried to distract myself.

Three hours later, when I had completed my work and calmed down enough, I went to find my mother.

She was reading in the balcony.

"Ma," I called.

"Hmm"

"Mumma!"

"What?" she snapped, without lifting her face.

"I'm sorry."

She looked at me. Her lips were pressed in a thin line and her expression was stern, but her rich brown eyes had softened.

"Never do that again," she warned.

"Yes."

She nodded and handed me my phone. Kissing her on the cheek, I sunk down on the chair beside hers and she resumed reading.

I was scrolling through my mail when my phone pinged with the notification of ten unseen what's app messages.

Frowning over the contents of Radika's texts, I got up and walked to the drawing room. But I stopped short when I saw Aarna staring fixedly at the idiot box, not paying attention to the plate of food in front of her.

Glancing at the clock, I realised that she would never let me change the channel as it was already past eight.

Deciding to act quickly, I jumped over her head and grabbed the remote. Standing up, I pressed the 'favourite's' button before she could protest.

Immediately, the screen was graced with the face of a famous (and my favourite) news reporter. In his background, there were pictures of loads of cash bundles and expensive stones.

However, all I could do was stare at his ageing yet intelligent looking features as he said,

"....just a few hours ago, honourable prime minister announced the demonetisation of five hundred and one thousand rupee currency notes to be put into effect from midnight...."

I was simply standing there, doing nothing but gaping silently. I didn't even notice my sister, who was now pulling my hair and kicking my calves.

Ma had entered the room, probably to investigate the source of all the chaos. But even she paid no attention to Aarna'a antics. Her eyes shone with glee as she absorbed the news. Turning to me, she exclaimed,

"I can't wait to see the faces of all corrupt politicians. Oh my God this is so amazing!"

"Yes," I agreed, "this is a really smart move."

And it was a really smart move indeed. The benefits would be endless but I was unable to list them.

All I could think was,

'I need to talk to Kian ASAP'

{[]}

"So nani handed me a five hundred rupee note yesterday and asked me to get her phone recharged. I told her I'd do it tomorrow, as in today. After the announcement, I got slapped pretty hard." Vivaan's story was followed by shrieks of laughter.

It was the next day and nearly everyone was discussing demonetisation. Jokes and similar stories were being shared. Thousands of memes of the Prime Minister had taken over the internet in the past twelve hours. Him wearing superman's outfit, being cheered on by the poor. Him wearing swaggy sunglasses and punching the corrupt. Him standing on a  pile of Congress's black money and cheekily winking at Sonia Gandhi.

No one, not even the UBIs could be bothered by the fact that the results of the US presidential elections were also going to be announced today.

In every nook and cranny of the school, one could hear things like,

"For the first time I am thankful that I don't save my pocket money."

Or

"The lights of out neighbour's house were on till way past midnight. I bet they were furiously counting all their cash. They finally got what they deserved. Bloody showoffs."

Or

"All the corrupt politicians are so going down."

But most commonly, everyone was repeating one word over and over again.

'Masterstroke.'

I agreed with every single thing. However, I was only half listening most of the time. My mind was on a certain someone.

I had tried calling him thrice yesterday, but he didn't answer. The lights of his house were on till two a.m but I never tried ringing the bell.

And today, he didn't show up in school.

{[]}

There was a slight chill in the light breeze that evening, hinting at the arrival of winter. The cool air was hitting my face, gradually freezing my nose with every forward oscillatory motion of the swing.

Beside me, Kian was leaning on the back support with his eyes closed. If I didn't know otherwise, I'd guess he was asleep.

Our classes were over earlier than usual that evening. It was a half day at the coaching centre and somehow, they had forgotten to inform the students beforehand. We decided to laze around a bit before going back home and so headed to the park instead of out building.

Unable to wait any longer, I asked him the question I was dying to since the day before.

"What was the reaction of your parents?"

He slowly opened his eyes and stared at me and ignored the question. Smiling slightly, he said, "How long were you waiting to ask this?"

"Since the past twenty four hours."

"That's long."

"It is." I nodded.

"Well, my parents reacted the same way half the country did. As soon as Modiji announced demonetisation, they started counting all the cash present in the house. Mind you it was quite a lot."

"How much?"

"Why? You plan to steal it?" he teased.

"No, I am just curious to know how much storage space a four bedroom flat can offer."

"I am guessing it was around one crore, give or take a few lakh rupees."

"Wow! That is a lot of expensive paper."

"Tell me about it."

We went quiet for a while. A few minutes later he spoke.

"Ash."

"Hmm."

"Should I feel guilty right now?"

I was suprised. Not at the question but the way he said it. It was like a small child begging for reassurance after realising he had done something bad.

But Kian's case was different, he had done nothing wrong.

"No," I said sternly.

He still kept looking at me expectantly, I sighed.

"Look, I am no good at explaining things or consoling people. But you have done nothing wrong. You were simply fed up with the way your parents treated money. And frankly, anyone would've felt messed up after realising that their parents don't follow all the good values they preach. Besides, you didn't ask them to negotiate their dealings in black money."

He was running his hands through his hair and rapidly shaking his head. "No...no, but they did that to make more money to give me a good future. So in a way they did go corrupt becaise of me and my brother," he said, looking conflicted.

"Yes that might be true. But the fact is, whatever money they made was not entirely theirs to claim. They didn't really earn
that money, it was one step away from stealing. I'm sorry, that was harsh," I added at the end.

"It was true," he said. "You know my parents are not bad people," he continued.

"Yes they're not," I agreed. "But that is the problem isn't it? There are only a few people who genuinly believe that exchanging black money is bad. Everyone is aware of it, I am sure, everyone speak against it as well, but very few actually refrain from engaging in such practices. So naturally, there are a lot of good people with a lot of black money. Although you can look at the bright side."

"There is a bright side?"

"Of course there is. From now on, people or most people, would engage in honest, transparent transactions because there is no certainity as to how long a currency note would retain its value. So in a way, you parents, like millions of others, would be forced to be honest. And there are a bunch of other benefits as well. But I'd leave you to figure that out yourself, you're the economics student here."

He dug his heels in the ground and stopped the swing. Covering my hand with his, he squeezed my fingers.

"You were wrong," he said in a quiet voice.

"Huh?"

"You are good at explaining things and consoling people."

Without waiting for a reply, he jumped off the swing, pulling me along with him.

Letting go of my now numb fingers, he dusted his pants and started walking towards our building.

And I silently followed, still feeling dazed.

{[]}

Hello awesome people!!

So sorry for the late update. My phone had been confiscated for a week so I wasn't very active here on WP. I was mainly chatting in the threads.

But this chapter was quite longish right? I mean my usual length is 2300 words and this is 4400 words long...almost double.

Some references,

Nani- maternal grandma

Demonetise (or demonetize) - make a coin or currency no longer valid as money.

1 crore=100 lakh=ten million.

That's it, I am sorts sleepy right now.

Anyway, if you liked the chapter then please

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