I, Sharmi, Diamond; Ep-11

1. 11. Sharmi

After the shock of Reshma’s birthday party, I couldn't behave normally. Everyone beat Arjun that day. Reshma’s mother kept hitting him, saying, “I thought he was just a young boy.” It was Reshma’s father who pulled him away. My body trembled the entire day. After returning home and going to bed, I didn’t wake up until the next morning. I had a high fever. I didn’t tell anyone what had happened. My mother told me that many of my friends had come to see me because I was unwell, and Arjun was one of them. Even though I felt a little pity for him after he was beaten, my body still trembled when I remembered what he had done. In my feverish dreams, hands spread all over my body, pressing my clitoris and breasts. My mother kept asking, “What happened at the party? What happened?” I didn’t say anything. Reshma’s mother pleaded with me. She couldn’t accept that such an incident had happened at their house. I felt the same way.

For the next few years, they decided not to celebrate birthdays at Reshma’s house. As the years passed, I could feel myself becoming more beautiful, not just because my friends told me, but I could sense it myself. The gazes… each one was like tearing through my clothes, eager to see my breasts and clitoris. Regardless of age, every gaze went inside and stripped me naked, even if they tried to hide it, their eyes didn’t. I couldn't blame them. No woman could pass without looking back at me. I had learned to worship myself and my body. A height that was neither too tall nor too short. A body structure without even a little fat in unnecessary places. A clear, radiant face. Lips that shone without lip gloss. Slightly large eyes. A gently long neck. Breasts that bounced like jelly poured into a cup and turned upside down. Going down, a suddenly widening hip, long legs—I was someone who admired myself every day. So, it seemed unfair to complain that everyone was stripping me naked with their gazes. Sometimes, I felt breathless looking at myself in the mirror.

My father’s business was booming. It became a rare thing to even see him. My mother was the only one who made a fuss about me just barely passing tenth grade. “Is she going to save us by studying?” she would rant. My father, rushing to the office, would scold my mother, “Don’t scold the child,” and hug me, kiss me on the forehead, and say, “You’re my lucky charm, why do you need to study?” I still remember giving my mother a look. Though I didn't get great marks, I somehow managed to pass up to twelfth grade. My father had started branches all over India. My mother was trying even harder to look younger. The closeness between my mother and the lawyer uncle had increased quite a bit.

Driver Sundaram didn’t try to flirt with me anymore. A year ago, he had, as usual, made a face as if he was cracking his knuckles and, while touching my body and pressing my breasts, had said “Rasathi” (Queen). I immediately slapped his hand away and warned him, “If you do that again… I’ll tell my mother.” His expression changed instantly, and he left without a word. I really liked his defeated look. I had become used to these kinds of looks. The smiling look that asked, “Will you come to a coffee shop with me?” The longing look that said, “You’re very beautiful, Sharmi,” before turning their gaze away. The hesitant look that looked between my breasts and face without saying anything. The defeated look after a failed attempt, like Sundaram’s. The gazes that looked at me were mostly filled with lust, and only rarely did I see friendly glances from my mother, father, and some older people. In the eyes of my female friends, envy flowed like a river. But in Arjun's eyes, there was always a defeated look. After that incident, he never tried to talk to me. But he would follow me like a shadow. Though it irritated me at first, I got used to it. Whenever he was with other boys who were also chasing me, he would move away when I started laughing and talking more with them. I would deliberately linger with the other boys just for that. As soon as he left, I would drop them. Even today, there are boys who still look at me with confusion, not understanding my sudden mood changes. You might say it was arrogance given by age and beauty. But beyond all that, there was a thrill in protecting myself, as if I held some treasure within me, and in anticipating who would try to break that protective wall. In a time when I was only thinking about myself, things that made me think about life began to happen. There wouldn't be much excitement if everything went well, right? Likewise, a turning point that would turn my life upside down happened in my family.