P's Notes

Every morning papa makes tea for ma and amma. Ma loves it. Amma not so much. I think amma likes the tea but she doesn't like the fact that papa makes it. This time when I went home for vacation, papa used to wake me up too for morning tea. I wondered why because I don't like tea. We used to sit and chat about random stuff. On some good mornings, he would tease amma till she has a giggly fit. After this morning dose of tea and chit-chat, papa would rush to get ready for work. Ma would be off to the kitchen and amma would go out to get flowers for "pooja". And I would slowly tiptoe my way back to the room to get some more sleep. "Shaam ki chai" is the time when all three of them sit together and discuss chores and errands. On most evenings, the discussion is interrupted when amma starts rushing towards the gate hearing the call of the vegetable vendor. I follow her too for the conversations that happen among the vegetable vendor, amma and neighborhood

This is about the days when abruptly anytime the ceiling fan used to stop working. The days when there were no "backups," no inverters. I used to run to my mother's room in the middle of the night and she would use my favorite handheld fan to help me sleep. That fan was handmade. Dadi made several for us. They were of beautiful bright colors, some had embroidery over them. This is about the summers when everybody at home would eventually go upstairs and sleep on the cot, beneath the stars, except my father and me. My father used to complain about mosquitoes and I had weird complaints. It was difficult for me to sleep beneath the stars. Those millions of stars had the company of each other and they made me feel alone. Alone in a strange way. I remember how difficult it was for me to continuously look at them while trying to sleep. It felt as if there is a hollow tunnel and as much as I would look at it, I would keep going inside. I was intimidated by the vastness.

Something just broke inside me. But there was no sound. No shatter. I don't know if it hurts. I feel too numb. Too distant. Too lost.  This looks like a dark box, filled with sharp broken pieces. Pieces that pierce my feet. I am banging all the walls, to find a door.  A door that can lead me out of this. To a place that doesn't smell like a chemistry lab.  To a place where there is sunshine to keep me warm. I keep trying for some time. But it seems like there is no door. Tired, I fell on the rugged mat. And went to sleep. Hoping to wake up in another place. In a place where I can breathe.