That Indian Woman | √

Chapter 13

Matthew:

I stopped fidgeting when I noticed the Professor burning holes in my face with his ferocious glare.

I looked at my watch. Just ten minutes more for this lengthened lecture to end.
Usually, I took notes of what the man, Mr. Jude Dermont Willow, told us. But today, I couldn't quite focus. The morning's events were running through my head like a fire and all I wanted to do was go back to those protesters and stop them before things took an ugly route.

There was Anvesha with them. My only Indian friend and...

Her high held ego was the problem with her; she didn't think twice before doing things which could lead her to serious problems.

The British could get rid of them, easily. They could ask their guards to just--I shuddered at the unspoken thought.

No...no, this won't happen.  

I looked at my left to see Alex scowling at me, before he turned to face the Professor and hear his mindless chatter. What's with him, though?

I shook my head and prayed to Mary for this lecture to be over. As if hearing my thoughts, the Professor ended the session and dismissed the class. Not waiting for neither Jordan or Alex, I shooted up from my desk and ran out of the room.

I quickly located the exit gate and was about to leave when I heard a shout from behind. "You know Matthew, the car must be faster. But if you would really like to walk and waste your energy, you are absolutely entitled to do so."

I stopped in my tracks and turned around. Jordan smirked at me while Alex continued to stare at me with a face devoid of any emotion.

I gave Jordan a sheepish look and walked towards him. Silently we all walked towards the carriage-with- an-engine, which is also called a car, if I must tell you.

The Indian driver jumped out of the car and opened doors for us. Alex, like every time, decided to sit in the front passenger seat beside the driver.

I didn't know how he managed to do that. He himself called Indians "filthy" and then he sat beside one, one who wore a bushy moustache and had hair drenched with tonnes of oil. His white coloured uniform was rather dirty. His skin was the colour of mud.

I couldn't help but compare this man to Anvesha. She was such a a beautiful Indian woman. Her clear skin was the colour of almond milk and a peachish natural blush seemed to cover her soft cheeks.

A sigh escaped my lips. I was forgetting that this poor Indian hardly had money to eat food, that it wasn't possible for him to clean up every day, unlike Anvesha, whose father was a respectable and wealthy man. She received every amenity an Indian could enjoy at this time.

A proud smile made way to my lips. She had everything, yet here she was fighting for people who couldn't have that. It was irony in itself, but it wasn't a bad one.

"Matt, stop smiling like that. You look like a lunatic." Jordan drawled, in an amused tone.

My head snapped towards the direction of his voice and to my astonishment, he was standing outside the car. I looked around and realized that we had already reached the destination.

I covered my embarrassed look and jumped out of my car. Not wasting another minute, I quickly rushed towards the main office building. The surroundings were eerily quite.
When I reached there, I was taken aback. Not a single Indian soul was lurking outside the gates right now. Guards stood with their head held high.