Trying to get back to the book, and away from his nagging imposter syndrome, Mukesh pictured tall, broad, authoritarian Atticus in his small bedroom on his IKEA rug （selected by Vritti）。 Within a few pages, Mukesh learned that Scout and Jem’s ‘courteously detached’ father was a widower, and he had raised his children alone, with the help of Calpurnia their cook. As his eyes ran over the words, he could feel a lump begin to rise in his throat. Mukesh wasn’t a lawyer, wasn’t a pillar of the community, didn’t bless his children with his wisdom. He wasn’t tall, broad and authoritative like Atticus. But Mukesh knew what losing your wife felt like too. Mukesh sat up straight, his attention now firmly focused on this man, this powerful, kind and fair man. As the story went on, Mukesh wondered how Atticus could continue with his life so boldly. Was any part of him stuck in the past, hiding from his wife’s death? He could feel his self-consciousness lift, and he continued, intent on discovering Atticus’s secret to success. How had Atticus moved on with his life seemingly unscathed?
After a slow start, Naina was proved right later that same evening. Mukesh hadn’t been able to tear himself away – he had felt himself taking on Atticus’s life lessons, putting himself in Scout’s shoes, seeing the world through her eyes. The ‘fraud, fraud, fraud’ was nagging at the back of his mind, but the story had well and truly taken over.
Mukesh lowered the book to reveal his face to the librarian – a huge grin brightening it, the memories of turning the final page, the sense of pride he’d felt then, returned to him. He took off his hat, and rearranged his hair, all blustered and flustered from the wind. ‘Yes! I finished it!’
‘Would you like to return it?’ the librarian asked, and he handed the book over, nervously. He didn’t want to let go of it, but he allowed her to ring it through her system.
‘That’s all sorted for you,’ she smiled back at him. He waited, not sure what to do next. He wanted to talk to her about it, but he didn’t know what to say, or where to start. He could feel his cheeks starting to blush – what if he said something stupid?
‘Erm,’ he started. ‘Walking in someone else’s skin.’ His voice came out all croaky and quivery.
‘I’m sorry, what was that?’
‘Walking in someone else’s skin, you know – that’s what Atticus says,’ he stammered.
‘Oh yes, I remember,’ she said, her eyes sparkling.
‘I think that’s what stayed with me most. It is very wise. Atticus, he’s very wise.’
Aleisha nodded. ‘Definitely.’
They looked at each other awkwardly. The silence hung between them.
‘When I finished it,’ the girl started, ‘I was so enraged, and so desperate to talk to someone about it.’
‘Me too.’ Mukesh nodded vigorously.
‘Well …’ The girl looked at her phone on the table. ‘I’ve still got some of my lunch break left, shall we have a chat about it?’
Mukesh could feel Naina prodding him, and he nodded again, warily. She led him over to a table by the window. ‘Feel free to sit here, Mr Patel,’ she said, very kindly.
‘Mukesh, please,’ he whispered back. He didn’t know where to start, but she was watching him, waiting for him to go first.
‘That line about stepping into someone else’s skin … well, we were in Scout’s skin, the little girl in the story,’ he said, slowly. It sounded like something someone would say in a book group, or in an English class, he thought: ‘We see Atticus through her eyes, don’t we?’
The young lady smiled, and Mukesh couldn’t tell if she agreed or if she was pandering to him.
‘I think that one line is very interesting – because if people could step into Tom Robinson’s skin, maybe they wouldn’t be so awful to him, accusing him of something he never did, when that lie could have ruined his whole life. And not as awful, but what if Scout and Jem could see what it was like to be the old neighbour Boo Radley, maybe they would have been kinder to him as well. He was a lovely soul … maybe just lonely. People don’t always understand lonely people.’ The words rushed out of him, like he wanted to get them out of the way. Maybe, if he spoke quickly enough, she wouldn’t notice him saying silly, stupid things.
Aleisha nodded again. ‘You’re right, but … it’s literally impossible, that’s the thing. People just live their lives, they can’t ever fully get … you know … understand someone else or what they’re going through.’ She spoke slowly, as though trying to put her own thoughts together. He wondered if she was just trying to make him feel less of an idiot.