Musalman — Matric reloaded

Musalman struts into school the next morning, Like a boss.
Confident. He bounces in slow motion, like a Hugo Boss model striding across a trampoline. All that was missing was the Zoolander pose. But there would be no Blue steel, it was not his eeeshtyle.

Period changes (the school type, not the other..) bringing more stares and pointing. Time was flying by but he was enjoying every single minute of it.

The school siren (often called “the bell” I dont know why) screams out like a victim of crime.

First break.
Off to the tuckshop for a Crisp, cola and chocolate, his staple school diet.

*Gliding,bouncing Hugo Boss model strut mode, engaged*

‘You know, Pride doesn’t suit you’

He wonders why the voice in his head is suddenly female. Weird!
Bouncey bounce , on his merry way he moves.

‘You have one fluke moment of bravery, fueled by nothing more than adrenalin, and you think are “The Man? Tsk tsk tsk…’

He would never “tsk tsk tsk…” That was reserved for Madressah appa’s, panchaat aunties, basically women showing disappointment,disgust or pity on an issue…oh and the Paan Uncle in Fordsburg square when you asked for change.

Finally, he recognizes the voice. How could he forget it though?
Standing behind with hands on hips is Arwa, clearly unimpressed.

The macho strutting screeches to a halt. The “trampoline bounce” stops faster than a learner driver at a Traffic light.

Unwittingly, he had been enjoying the constant and growing adulation he was receiving from the whole school. Ultimately, he realized, it was only her approval that he really sought,that meant anything or counted for something. All the smiles and audible whispers now faded. Why could he never seem to impress her for longer than a day, what did she want? Why was he always just an irritant in some way? I mean, he had saved her life and all, just yesterday for goodness sake!

The ego,was broken. Well no,more like winded and bruised. A Guy’s ego is never totally broken. Nonetheless,He spent the rest of the day in complete contrast to the way he had started. (Slumped shoulders and feet dragging for those with no imagination)

“ I’m not breaking my head over a girl”… he mumbles, and decides to focus on the upcoming exams. Maybe its better this way, no distractions.

Matric Exams came and went, Musalman passed with flying colors as expected.
He had no idea what he would do with his life in the coming years, which career path he would follow.

But before that, the small matter of the Matric Ball.
Eish.