Book 1: Page 53, Para 2


Kalsh: …Yes Miss, you are right. We are going to bet who scores a hat trick today and I hope you place your money on me.

Akanaksha: Maybe I already have. But the stakes might just be too high for you.

Kalsh: This sounds interesting. Surprise me; do you want to see us take the ball from one end of the field to the other using only our heads? Or even better you want our goalkeeper to score.

Akanksha: Maybe…Maybe not! Anyhow I wasn’t talking about the game. You are wasting your time there. You should spend more time in better company, perhaps with us.

Kalsh: I would love that (I felt a jolt in my stomach.) Ah…

The momentary excitement in my stomach drastically changed in character. It was very painful. I got hold of Akshay’s collar and whispered, “I need to see the doctor. Let’s go back”. I turned around and was confronted with shrieks of all those girls who were giggling at my senseless jokes a split second ago.

“Oh god, He is bleeding!”

Book 1: Page 47


Sahib dropped Akshay and me at my uncle’s place. Upon ringing the door bell we were greeted by my sister. She sprang her arms around me. Pecked me on the cheeks and shrieked, “I knew this would work out.” All my attention was sidetracked from the pain and the accident. She was the most benign member of my extended family. My sweet little sister (we are of the same age, but it’s always the brother who feels bigger and conscientious.) Her dark brown hair waved with a gush of air that freed my tensed nerves. The freckles on her face were not a result of age, but a sign of fret and relief on holding her dearest brother tightly after such a long time. Her eyes, a shade darker than mine, were shut. She only opened those almond contoured eyes to look at Akshay. We had never had any sibling rivalry. We owed this to the fact that my uncle treated me as the son he always wanted and my cousin was overwhelmed by the distinction of being the only girl in the whole of Dehradoon who could address me as “Brother”, without offending me.

BOOK1: Page 21, Para 3


My eyes opened after what appeared to be centuries of bliss. I was not the lone occupant of that furniture less room anymore. There were twenty three odd faces- all girls- and all staring at me. Their necks were tilted at a very comfortable angle and their eyes were focused in the most unimagined manner. I realized that it was not just my belly that had responded to the nose. The sheer cloth of my lovely dress did little to conceal my modesty. Here I was in a room surrounded by the elite members of the far better sex, and I did not have my coat to cover up. There was no nose, no hand and no reflection, only an excitement that had erected through my tights. In Dehradoon, the winter is bitterly cold due to the surrounding hills, yet my palms were full of sweat. My ears were burning red, (no pink!) They contrasted with my face which had turned pale. I could have never imagined that the stage show would turn out to be a source of mammoth mortification.

BOOK1: Page 11, Para 1


I won’t waste time in writing pages about those beautiful girls, their fancy dresses and gaudy make up. Instead I will treat the reader to my brain and what I felt in my heart at that very moment. One of those girls had to be my future date for the annual ball in senior year. I made a conscious effort to know each one of them on a personal level. So that when the fateful night would arrive my decision would be based more appropriately on a lot more than just corporeal lure. All that would require a considerable amount of time in their company and hence the first thing on my list was getting selected by hook or by crook. The following lunch hour was spent on me. All those divine, affable, benign girls assisted me, advised me, encouraged me, and of course checked me out. So here I was ready to take on the role of the male lead (there was only one male character).

BOOK1: Page 10


And she asked me to excuse her. I was taken aback. It appears this Lady Penguin actually believes that there are boys who want to do this ballet. I would have definitely given her a piece of my mind, if it had not been for all those beautiful eyes staring at the only boy in the hall. Now that felt indeed special. Running from between the crowds came Aakrisht’s little sister. Along with her was the lead ballerina. It was evident from her gait, it brushed off from the curls in her hair and it was voiced in her lips. She was the thorn pricking the prying eyes of all the girls staring at the three of us. My first tour of the best girls’ school in Doon had officially begun.

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