What Lingers After Class

"The future is for those who trust the beauty within their dreams" I opened my eyes slowly and found my room washed in the soft gold of morning sun. That quiet start lasted barely a moment before my mom's sharp voice cut through the house. "Aaru, this is my last warning. Wake up right now or you can forget breakfast. Freshen up and come help me with it." Maa said in a threatening tone. I pushed myself upright, still half asleep, and rubbed at my eyes. "Coming Maa," I muttered drowsily. Maa wasn't convinced. "You still sound sleepy, Aarohi. If you aren't up in two minutes, I'll come to your room myself." Maa warned me. I knew I couldn't waste another second. If Maa stepped into my room, I was doomed. I threw aside the blanket and dragged myself out of bed, heading unsteadily to the washroom to freshen up. After finishing my morning routine, I headed into the kitchen feeling much more awake. Maa was already busy with the flour, kneading the dough with practiced hands. I went over to her with a grin already forming on my lips. "What can I do, babes?" I asked, trying to make my voice sound as bright as I could. Maa glanced up, a small smile touching her lips. "Cut the vegetables kept on the table for the sabji," she said, her hands still working through the dough. I nodded and started working, the steady sound of chopping filling the kitchen. Beside me, Maa kept moving fast, turning the dough into neat round chapattis. Somewhere in the middle of it, Maa slipped into one of her usual rants. "I've been trying to wake you since 7 am and you're still sleepy! You're 18 already... almost, at least. In two or three years, you'll be married. I really don't know how you'll handle everything." She said, wearing a fake scowl. I rolled my eyes, not the least bit upset. "Maaaa, I don't turn 18 until September, and right now it's June, which means I'm still 17. And anyway, I have zero interest in marriage." Maa kept talking over my protests, but I stopped listening and drifted back into my own insecurities. "Forget marriage, nobody is ever going to fall for me when I'm this ugly," I told myself, trying to shove the thought away. Once the vegetables were done, I moved on to making the sabji, soothed by the familiar routine. At the same time, Maa handled the chapattis like an expert, and the smell spreading through the kitchen made my stomach rumble. Soft Sunday sunlight spread across our living room while we all sat together, enjoying one of those rare quiet moments. I was checking my emails when my eyes suddenly lit up. "Maa, Papa, I got a mail from Crescent Vale College of Arts and Science," I said, lifting my phone. "My name is on the merit list! They want the fees and a few documents to finish the admission process." Papa's face grew a little serious. "We had wanted you to become a Doctor, but now that dream will stay incomplete because you're taking BSc in Microbiology." He said.