What was this month again?

Posted on by Sunepla

Illustration by Richa Kashelkar for Indigene

Slowing down:

Taking each day as it comes, I didn’t know what tomorrow would hold. I vaguely had an idea about the present day and on most days, that was enough.

Note : Day 1-4 didn’t get catalogued as I was zombie-ing through the process. Thanks.

Day 5
I am sitting here in a cyber shop. It reminds me of all things that hasn’t caught up with modernity but is still thriving on its own charm. The cotton candy vendor, the weird toy vendor, the PCO stall, the CD store, the greeting card shop.

The cyber shop is owned by a sweet uncle. He’s kind and calls you by the name “bache” (child). The term in this case is not used in a condescending manner. There are some people who use endearing terms as a leverage to subjugate you with the small ‘realisation’ that they aren’t obliged to show affection to you, and yet, here they are.

There is a temple opposite the shop. It’s clanging and making noises of worship—I presume—as Uncle here is doing his namaz. It gives me some sense of comfort sitting next to someone who is praying or rather speaking with his God.

This past week has been a stringing week of uncertainty like the whole of February has been. There are some aspects of uncertainty in my life that I am okay with right now which is not this house hunting!

From the absence of “To let” notices, to struggling to find humans outside their homes and discovering bathrooms that step right into the kitchen, I have seen it all.

One broker had pictures of MGR (Former Tamil Nadu CM and actor) and two other actors right outside his house. I have noticed that people down south have a sense of idolatry-ish respect towards their public figures. It could be because some of them had a career in movies before that and their actors are God like figures for them.

I cannot imagine a single Naga leader being revered in this manner. There is no one who’s particularly larger than life but still. The day Rio gets worship status, that’s it! Time to leave Nagaland.

Uncle has a partner who is supposed to show me new houses but he’s not on time. I have been waiting for him at Uncle’s shop for an hour now. Uncle is still doing his namaz. His second phone rings twice as he prays. It has a Nokia-esque ringing tone, the vintage ringtone for our generation.

Before this, I had ample amount of time to spend in the colony that I had circled around umpteen times since the last three days.
I went to the nearest eatery by the road. They had chaats and some form of Chinese food. As I am writing this, Uncle’s third phone goes off. This one also has the typical Nokia-esque ringing tone but along the tunes of “chaiya chaiya”. His namaz is over too. It was his partner calling.

So I was saying, chaats and Chinese food. I ordered aloo tikki chaat. The best aloo tikki I have ever eaten was as a child, at some eatery in Dimapur. My sister and I were sharing a plate and she ate more than her share. I remember I tugged the plate away from her. A woman who was standing nearby noticed this. She gestured the man next to her about what had happened and laughed. I was around 6-7 years old at that time. Probably what I would have done as an adult too if I see a kid getting upset over food.
“Hey, look at that. So funny and cute”. Bleh.

As I stood by the stainless steel ledge eating my aloo chaat, I noticed the menu on the wall. The only thing that called out to me was veg Schezwan noodles. I had 15 minutes in hand before I had to leave for Uncle’s shop. I wanted to try it. After reassuring that the cook would make it in no time, I got to taste the noodles. It was an Indian rendition of Schezwan noodles with monosodium glutamate laced all over it, of course. The noodles dehydrated the living water out of every cell in my body. I am still feeling thirsty as I am writing this.

Uncle is back to namaz again.
Now I get it. His namaz wasn’t over. I am assuming that when his third phone rings, it means it’s non-compromisable.

Uncle’s partner said he is coming. My fingers are crossed. I hope the rooms are great and the price a blessing for my pocket.

Funnily enough, you crossed my mind as I was sitting here in the cyber café with Uncle doing his namaz.

—After an hour—

I found a house that was nice. And I say this because it has a spacious balcony which is great for my plants.

Only problem is the kitchen and room is attached.

RIP axone (fermented soyabean) and dry fish. RIP.

What’s more, the room doesn’t have a closet.

RIP to my clothes. RIP.

The room doesn’t even have a ventilator.

All I have are three large windows that might be Big Boss to the neighbour’s eyes if they are the nosy kind.

But the balcony is almost perfect. (I say almost because it has no privacy)

Day 6

I go to the RT Nagar post office and the clerk snarkily comments about digital payments and how India Post only accepts cash.

Sure.

A fine example to be set by a central agency on going digital in the economy. Wah Modiji wah! Yes, this one’s on you.

I still have time until I meet the broker. I decide to take a walk around and see a flower nursery. Nothing catches my eye. Also, the prospect of having to carry it around the whole day makes me exit the place empty-handed without regret.

I walk some more and see a local restaurant which has some seafood mentioned in its name. I think it was Shankar Fishland. The menu is full of chicken and fish items. I ask what they have on the menu other than fish. They have prawns. I order masala prawns and ummmmmummm, it was *chef’s kiss*

With my limited exposure and experience, I for one think that seafood is best understood and cooked in the local restaurants rather than the ones we get in high-end restaurants.

After a while, I take an auto back to Champaca book store. I am finally redeeming the four month old gift coupon I had received as the Best Employee for that month (Lol). The place is a tiny room with earthy architecture – slate roofs, overhead opening for natural light, plants poking from all over and a cosy setting. The woman at the counter has a “Don’t touch me” vibe and the other woman is so sweet. She is that kind of person you think you want to be friends with.

I walk over to the bookshelves and check through all the sections hoping to find a worthwhile read. I find myself coming back to the Indian section. I finally decide on “The Good Girls” by Sonia Faleiro and “The Law of Force” by Thomas Blom Hansen.

After the bookstore trip, I prep myself mentally and physically to go around looking for houses again. It’s a repeat of all the other days. There’s nothing that fits the bill.

That night after coming back home, I get on a four hour long call with Vili. We speak about everything that’s eating our brains away. After the call ends, I proceed to watch “13 going on 30”, a movie I wanted to re-watch for some time now. Raa and I was discussing how we go back to watching certain movies just so we can attempt to feel what we used to. Sigh.

I feel happy, a tad sad and comforted after watching the movie. Jen Garner is so likeable and Mark Ruffalo is the cutest. Yup, I am on the Jenna and Matty forever team.

It is bittersweet to hear Billy Joel’s “Vienna” in the movie soundtrack to juxtapose how 13 year old Jenna had grown overnight into her 30 year self and didn’t recognise the person she was at all.

Sigh, that song will always hit hard.

Day 7

Oh my gawd.

This marks seven straight days of me just circling this colony.

AaaaaaaaaaaAaaaaAAaaaaaaAAaaaa

After 3 hours of loitering in the sun, I am happy to say I am done.

The only thing my mother said on hearing the rent deposit was “Come back home” (Feel me?)

Anyhow, I am happy to say something else worked out for me. I am really grateful to God for always making it better.

February has been so so so so so so exhausting.

Work life was packed. There were a number of back to back pop-ups and workshops. I handled Operations for a week as the manager was on leave. I have new found respect for anyone who handles it. Please don’t be rude to anyone you buy your stuff from. They are trying their level best. A gentle reminder should do.

Personally, I had no time for myself but to stay awake during dawn (as I would sleep right after I come back from work in the evening), and just be despite knowing I have to wake up early, which I read somewhere is one’s way of reclaiming lost time. Pretty deep.

A fellowship that began in December culminated on February 14. I can’t believe how time went by. It was a good experience.

I gifted myself a Bougainvillea and a plant apparently called Hayes.

After my first day of house hunting alone, I treated myself to pasta at Lavonne (one of the best places I have eaten pasta at). So so good.

I wore red lipstick on my eye and felt good about it.

I also realised I am no Julia Michaels in lyric writing. (Coming soooon, hopefully)

Had P and her friends to dance away Valentine’s night to bollywood music. Turned up to work the next day without a hangover. So proud of myself. Lol.

These are some of the songs that made February breezy for me:

  • Shubha Joshi and Daniel B. George’s- Ab kya bataun from the movie Manto.

To each of this 28 days, I raise my glass.
I am going on to March with lighter shoulders and stronger boundaries.
Last but not the least, I want to borrow some lines from Snoop Dog and say:

“I want to thank me for believing in me, I want to thank me for doing all this hard work. I wanna thank me for having no days off (scratch this. I need my days off). I wanna thank me for never quitting. I wanna thank me for always been a giver and trying to give more than I receive. I want to thank me for trying to do more right than wrong. I want to thank me for just being me at all times.”

Sunep, you are a brutally soft, badass woman.
I love you.
The next few months are going to be more than okay.
Always hope. Keep the faith. You are doing great.

Love,

S.

Published by Sunepla

Human. She/her. Learning about life one day at at a time. Awkward.

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