My own little victory
The big bottle of aquafina stares at me from across the room. Large, looming and annoyingly blue.
Three days ago, I thought buying a 2 litre bottle of water would ensure that I didn't have to keep running to the store. But little did I know that this particular bottle was designed by a narcissistic bottle-designer (yes, that's a profession) who knew that this bottle would land up in my hands. That's when the battle began.
Its been 2 weeks since I officially began living by myself. The 6 weeks at TWU never counted as I always had friends around, the sole purpose of my apartment being the comfy bed it offered.
But now, I'm on my own. Apart from managing my career, I need to do my own grocery shopping, make my own coffee and most of all, make sure I'm fed thrice a day... a concept I'm yet to really comprehend. Having been a bit of a spoilt kid back at home, whether it was going out to get a photocopy or getting a glass of milk at night, there was always someone by my side - something that I realize now that I took for granted. At 21, I still wish I could cling to my mum's saree as I cross the highway in front of where I live. I'm yet to cross it on my own.
I stare back at the bottle, knowing fully well that if I don't fight back, I will go thirsty. I take a pair of scissors and gnaw at the lid, and twenty minutes into the battle, it finally gives up. Bruised but delirious with joy, eleven at night, I take my first sip.
Maybe, just maybe, I can handle this.
Three days ago, I thought buying a 2 litre bottle of water would ensure that I didn't have to keep running to the store. But little did I know that this particular bottle was designed by a narcissistic bottle-designer (yes, that's a profession) who knew that this bottle would land up in my hands. That's when the battle began.
Its been 2 weeks since I officially began living by myself. The 6 weeks at TWU never counted as I always had friends around, the sole purpose of my apartment being the comfy bed it offered.
But now, I'm on my own. Apart from managing my career, I need to do my own grocery shopping, make my own coffee and most of all, make sure I'm fed thrice a day... a concept I'm yet to really comprehend. Having been a bit of a spoilt kid back at home, whether it was going out to get a photocopy or getting a glass of milk at night, there was always someone by my side - something that I realize now that I took for granted. At 21, I still wish I could cling to my mum's saree as I cross the highway in front of where I live. I'm yet to cross it on my own.
I stare back at the bottle, knowing fully well that if I don't fight back, I will go thirsty. I take a pair of scissors and gnaw at the lid, and twenty minutes into the battle, it finally gives up. Bruised but delirious with joy, eleven at night, I take my first sip.
Maybe, just maybe, I can handle this.
Comments
I wish!!
@steve: Haha, thrice is so common here, i almost forget its barely used in the US!