Page 101 of Glass Jawed
Now, sitting here in the convocation hall with applause echoing off marble and steel, I can barely swallow.
The titles being announced blur together. The sound of her name feels like both a knife and a hymn. I look up.
And for just a moment—one fragile, flickering moment—her eyes meet mine as she makes her walk.
Then they glide right past me.
And somehow, that hurts worse than anything else. Because that means I don’t even matter. My presence isn’t even aninconvenience.
I’m just simply not there.
After the ceremony wraps up—after the applause, the keynotes, the polite nods toward the future—the main hall floods with bodies in motion. Students spill out through every door, some bolting into the evening, others lingering to soak in every second.
A few hold their diplomas in the air like trophies. Most are wrapped in the arms of proud parents and siblings, laughter and chatter echoing through the space.
My eyes scan the crowd automatically.
And then it hits me.
Aarohi’s parents aren’t here.
There’s no one older in her orbit. No flower bouquet held out for her. No sign, no family tears, no overbearing dad complaining about the drive. Just... friends.
Is she okay?
Did she expect them and they just didn’t come?
I don’t let myself spiral too far, because in a matter of seconds, I’m cornered. A professor I only half-remember shakes my hand, complimenting my lectures from last fall. A student I vaguely recall says they loved the “product ethics” session. I nod. Smile. Thank them. Pretend I belong in this moment.
I don’t.
Not with what I did. Not with what I am.
When I break away, I search for her again. I spot Katie first, animated in a conversation by the side doors. But Aarohi isn’t with her.
And then I see her.
There she is.
Glowing... again. In a sea of gowns and camera flashes. Her mortarboard’sstillcrooked and she’s smiling that small, polite smile I know isn’t always joy.
She’s surrounded. A group of four people. And Akshat is right beside her—too fucking close.His hand is nearly grazing the small of her back. The sight punches me clean in the gut.
I try to control it. The jealousy. I try to play it cool like I deserve to stand here and be human. But inside? My entire ribcage is a furnace. My throat is dry. My hands are shaking.
I walk a few steps closer.
Close enough to hear.
Close enough to ruin myself.
“...better to leave. Toronto isn’t helping.”
That’s Aarohi’s voice.
“Honestly? Yeah. The job market sucks here,” Akshat replies.
“Oh that’s so true,” she continues, voice light but final. “But I can’t wait to go back. I miss home. Delhi will help.”
