Identity 1
The little village near Gangtok town, where we lived, always looked sleepy. Sometimes, I wondered if its stillness seeped into my own bones, making me crave excitement, yet fearful of change.
By day, sunlight warmed the tea fields; at night, we pulled our shawls tighter against the windows. At night, neon lights blinked in the mist, their colours bouncing off wet leaves, while laughter drifted from open sudden chill.
Every time my eyes drifted from the night sky to the lights in the distant hills, the shimmers looked drowsy. While my mother slept in the afternoons, I roamed around the narrow passageways and the flower garden of the old wooden house. My clothes never seemed to fit for long, and I caught my reflection sometimes—taller, my face sharper, my voice lower than I remembered. The country air, filled with oxygen, lingered in all the rooms, and the Teesta River looked green in the distance when I gazed out my window.
Araliya was my twin sister, studying in the same class, always under my constant watch. Sometimes I wondered if she disliked my attention, or if she understood that it was my way of protecting her—and me— from the whimsicality of our teenage years.
On the sunny afternoon of our eighteenth birthday, I was startled by a question. Our mum entered the front room without knocking as Araliya was about to go out, her usual briskness filling the air with a tension I had learned to read. I sensed something was about to happen, but I didn’t know what. “Are you going out?” Mum asked her daughter.
Araliya answered, “Yes, Mum, I'm going out.”
Our mum stepped out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
Araliya stumbled down the wooden stairs. I followed, careful to keep my footsteps light on the creaking boards. Outside, I paused, watching her disappear down the lane. My heart pounded as I took the shortcut to the waterfront, my shoes brushing through dew-soaked grass. The air was thick with mist as I finally spotted the winding path to the Teesta River—the place where secrets were always whispered.
The aquatic plants gave the water different colours, and as the shades changed to cerulean blue near the shore, in the diffused afternoon light, the surrounding mountains seemed like eerie silhouettes. The magnificent mountains surrounding our village in blue, purple, and white were like backdrops revealing a smelted gem.
I saw Cais, who studied in the same class as I did. His hair fell back from a high forehead. I noticed Cais sitting on a white rock, partially submerged in clear water. As the sun dipped below the horizon, shedding a warm orange glow over the maize fields, I spotted Araliya running to her boyfriend. I could hear their voices.
"Sorry for being late," Araliya said.
“It’s okay!” Cais replied.
"Our college is arranging an annual Sports Day."
“Hey, don’t go to college tomorrow, Araliya.”
“Tell me why.”
“I want you so badly, honey,” said Cais. “Please come to our farmhouse, and I'll give you a ride.”
As darkness fell, the atmosphere changed. Lightning flashed across the sky, and thunder
rolled, giving me shivers. The trees twisted under the strong winds, and the cold was shocking, like a slap to my face. The wind was still harsh.
“Let’s call it a day, baby,” said Araliya, “It may rain.”
“Yeah, honey.”
I followed Araliya as she disappeared into the darkness, careful not to be seen.
A crook of a hill nestled our college, the narrow track cutting through a rocky edge and a thin forest lined with scented pines. Every morning, we walked through the beautiful pine forest to the college. When we reached the college gate on a cloudy morning, Araliya could not find her boyfriend. We met a boy named Aarav at the college gate. He was a dorky Nepalese boy with a nervous stammer and puppy-dog eyes, messy hair, and a sloppy sweater.
"Hey, you're supposed to meet Cais at his farmhouse," he said to Araliya.
“Alone!” Araliya cried out.
The teacher entered the classroom, and the class started as we took our seats.
When the class ended, I asked my sister, "Why will you go to the farm?" My heart pounded as I waited for her answer, a thousand warnings crowding my thoughts.
“I’m in love with Cais,” she answered, her voice soft but certain. I wanted to argue, to protect her, but I could only nod, afraid she might shut me out if I pushed too hard.
As days passed, spring crept into our village. Bright rhododendrons announced its arrival, filling my heart with joy and pleasure. It was during one of these afternoons, as I wandered restlessly for distraction, that I arrived at a large monastery that looked like a hidden gem.
After leaving the monastery, I wandered further up the hillside. There, a farmhouse perched on a grassy rise shrouded in smoky blue hues caught my attention—a place where large white clouds rolled off into the horizon. It seemed the perfect setting for romance, at least in my eyes. I wondered who lived in that little white house with green shutters on the hill.
I hid behind a tree, close enough to hear voices. Cais suddenly arrived and asked Araliya to follow him.
“Did you have any difficulty in finding the house?” Cais asked.
"No, dear," Araliya answered.
I saw Cais pointing towards the bathroom.
The lights went off suddenly. The darkness shook me.
Days slipped by. A month had passed since Araliya went to the farm. On one particularly grey, drab afternoon, I found Araliya sitting on the college staircase, deep in conversation with her friend Simran. I could hear what they said as I was sitting very close to them.
"Hey, Simmy! I have missed my period," Araliya murmured.
“Consult a gynaecologist,” Simran said.
“Um, I should do that.”
Araliya’s concern was noticeable through her expression.
The weight of her words lingered between us all day.
That evening, as the village settled into its familiar hush, I accompanied Araliya to the doctor, my thoughts racing with every step.
He examined her.
He said, “Girl, you’re pregnant.”
Araliya’s lips pressed together, and her hands twisted in her lap. She didn’t meet my eyes as she stepped out of the doctor’s office.
The following morning, as we walked toward college, Araliya’s eyes searched the horizon. We met Cais on the road, his presence as tense as the air between us. Araliya and Cais stood very close to me, and I could hear them talking. “Guess what, Cais, I’m pregnant!”
"Goddammit, didn’t we use condoms?"
“I don’t know, honey.”
“Oh, my God!” "We should get married now since I’m having a baby.”
“Have you gone crazy?”
“Get an abortion, honey.”
A single tear slipped down Araliya’s cheek, and she brushed it away with the back of her hand, her chin set in defiance.
“I will keep the baby,” said Araliya, her voice breaking.
It hurt to see her so strong—and so alone. As far as I knew, Araliya never dated the father of her child again.
That night, a sudden chill crept into the house. On the balcony, a breeze slipped under my shirt and prickled my skin. The air smelled of damp earth, and the first raindrops danced on the road below while thunder rolled distantly, promising a storm.
Arya was one of my classmates. He proposed to Araliya on a sunny but breezy spring morning as our college announced summer holidays.
I waited for Arya at the riverbank, the familiar road stretching out before me, lost in the mist. After a while, the sun broke through the clouds, and Araliya joined me, settling under a tree heavy with pink blossoms. The snow-capped peak of Kanchenjunga looked magical.
“I have something to confess, Arya,” said Araliya.
“What is it, Araliya?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“You’re lying!”
“It’s true.”
Arya reached out and took Araliya’s hand, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. "I love you, even if you're carrying someone else's child," he said, his eyes locked on hers, looking for a sign that she understood.
Araliya's eyes shone in the dimming light. "Should I...?" She started, her voice a whisper, tinged with uncertainty.
Arya was quiet for what felt like an eternity.
Finally, Arya shook his head. “No,” he said, his words slow and sure. “We’ll get through this together. When we’re old enough, we’ll marry. Until then, I’ll stand by you.”
Araliya let out a shaky breath, half a sob, half a laugh, and nodded. “I’ll look after my child. I want to try. I want to be strong.” Arya was looking into the distance. “Thanks for giving me a new identity,” Araliya said.
The night sky above us thickened. The moon, emerging from its cloud cover, bathed the hills in a soft, silvery light.
..........
In Identity, Araliya and Cais are two indecisive and impulsive teenagers with nothing and nobody to hold them back. Araliya is the twin sister of "I" in the story. The story begins with Araliya dating her boyfriend amid the stunning beauty of the Sikkim Himalayas. She is a quiet, humble, nerdy student who plays the french horn until the day she is seduced by the school playboy Cais at a farmhouse. Araliya decides to keep the baby and soon becomes pregnant in high school. And to make it worse, she never dates the father of her child. But Araliya soon finds solace in Arya, who hangs on despite an unwanted pregnancy. In Identity, Araliya and Cais are two indecisive and impulsive teenagers with nothing and nobody to hold them back. Araliya is the twin sister of "I" in the story. The story begins with Araliya dating her boyfriend amid the stunning beauty of the Sikkim Himalayas. She is a quiet, humble, nerdy student who plays the french horn until the day she is seduced by the school playboy Cais at a farmhouse. Araliya decides to keep the baby and soon becomes pregnant in high school. And to make it worse, she never dates the father of her child. But Araliya soon finds solace in Arya, who hangs on despite an unwanted pregnancy.