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Desperate
'Inspired by Life' series
Part 2
Disclaimer: This story is based on real life experiences of the author. However, names and places have been changed. Never intended to belittle or defame anyone or anything. Images used are purely for representional purposes. Copyright of images neither claimed nor any infringement intended.
Incase you find any mistakes or errors, please feel free to point it out.
***
I was staring at my plate for so long, that I had to convince myself to look up. With shear difficulty, head lifted up my face. Suddenly my eyeballs got locked with that of Scary face's. Scary face is the owner of that restaurant. His puzzled yet cold look is asking whether everything is alright and at the same time, commanding me to eat or get lost. I shifted my focus to the Bengali babu, who got stationed on the other side of my table. Apparently, he is having the same thing, Egg biriyani! Yet, he is eating it so deliciously that it made me question, whether I really saw what I think I saw. I had to take a relook and confirm. Aah.. there it is. A dead cockroach on my egg biriyani!!
Now, you may be wondering why I am not making a fuss. I want to, but I can't. Let me give you a little perspective on what is going on.
To begin with, I am unemployed and living far from my home. All I have is meagre monthly remittance from home, which barely sustains me. Most of the months, I end up borrowing from my friends. Now that I owe everyone, I am ashamed to even face them. I had to come with a monthly plan on spending, which means spending less on everything including food. As my rent is around 1650 bucks per month, adding a few bucks for electricity, water connection and WiFi will take it close to 2000 bucks. So, out of a monthly remittance of 5000 bucks, I am left with 3000 bucks for 30 days. This includes food and every other expenses. Doing a simple math will tell you, that is a 100 bucks a day!
Thanks to the nearby college and resident students, I found a place where they serve homely food for a few bucks. The Ammumma in charge of that mess asked 30 bucks for breakfast and 35 for dinner. No lunch. Whatever I am left with for that day, this restaurant is the only place I could afford for lunch. A cheap, poorly maintained unhygienic restaurant serving primarily, migrants and long distance lorry drivers.
Now I can create a dramatic scene. But, I don't think anyone cares! Probably I may end up paying the bill with an empty stomach. I can lodge a complaint with food safety authorities. They may shut down this place and that won't help my cause either.
When I was home, I used to shout at every 'foreign things' I could find on my food. Be it a strand of hair or a small insect, I used to throw that portion away. Probably, won't even eat anymore. Today, that is a luxury I cannot afford. So, I silently took that cockroach on its antenna and put it under the table. No one saw me. I don't want to eat that, but I don't want to stay on an empty stomach until dinner, either.
I had upma for breakfast. It was good and clean. But I hate upma, as it never fills my belly. So, I intentionally choose this egg biriyani to compensate that. I had to stay awake with energy and prepare for this dream job, which I badly want. Never thought, I end up eating food with loathe and thoughts of vomit. That took some time to finish. Bengali babu is still eating with a content face. I kept my fury inside, paid the bills and left that place.
What followed was the usual walk under the scorching sun, which never fails to remind me, which hour of the day I choose to 'wander around'. Since I don't own a private vehicle, this walk continues for another 15 or 20 minutes, until I reach my room. People in cars ride past me, with a judgmental look. I can read, 'you don't belong here' in their faces. Yes, I do. I wake up early and sweat throughout the day. I put more efforts than him or anyone. I make sure of that. That's how I spent my day. One day, I reach where I wanted to be. Then I look back at these days or maybe write about it?
Soon after I closed the door to my room, I took my sweaty shirt off and sit under the fan. Everyday routine. 10 minutes cool off time. This is more like a time for contemplation before getting back to preparations. My only pair of socks are hanging dirty on the corner. Good thing, it keeps a safe distance from my shirts. I only have those three shirts, which I use twice a week. Maybe I buy some new clothes, once I get this job. I can make a long list of things, I desperately needed. Then, on the other side, I can write about the things I wanted. Sometimes I wonder, whether my teeny tiny room have enough space to accommodate my dreams!
I kept checking my wrist watch, hoping that tiny needle will somehow rush to 'seven'. No evening snacks or coffee. Don't want to walk that same distance again and come back with a sweaty body. Then the time waste! This burning sensation in my stomach is like a fire in my head. I need it.
As always, I am the first to report for dinner. Sharp seven. Almost as if I was eagerly waiting for dinner the whole day. Ammumma served a lot of dishes, as if she was giving away a big vegetable thali or something. Is she compensating for the breakfast? I want to dig in so badly. But the thoughts of paying only 35 bucks for all these, restrained my hands from exploiting her kindness. Still I ate like, that was the only meal I had today. She smiled and turned her head towards the reality show going on in the television, almost as if to make me feel less uncomfortable.
I finished dinner with satisfaction. She took the plates to the wash. I added another 35 under my name in the bill book. I haven't paid, for like a month or something. That must have added up to a good number now. Maybe she's struggling to feed me, who knows! She never complains or asks for money. Only thing she always asked was whether I need food tomorrow, to which I always nodded 'yes'. I cannot help but wait until the next month to pay her bills.
As I walked home under the moonlight, I couldn't help but wonder about all these people. They are giving food for less money. They may be getting only wafer thin margins out of this. They are the reason, I am sustaining. They're the fuel to my dreams. They're giving me a chance to fight for what I believes in.. or what matters in my life. Now the onus is on me to grab this opportunity. Make worthy of theirs as well as my own sacrifices. To do something worthwhile.. to find meaning in life.. and ultimately be in a position, not to judge, but to be of some value to others..
Inspired by Life.
Adarsh Sharlet.
©adarsh_sharlet
Part 2
Disclaimer: This story is based on real life experiences of the author. However, names and places have been changed. Never intended to belittle or defame anyone or anything. Images used are purely for representional purposes. Copyright of images neither claimed nor any infringement intended.
Incase you find any mistakes or errors, please feel free to point it out.
***
I was staring at my plate for so long, that I had to convince myself to look up. With shear difficulty, head lifted up my face. Suddenly my eyeballs got locked with that of Scary face's. Scary face is the owner of that restaurant. His puzzled yet cold look is asking whether everything is alright and at the same time, commanding me to eat or get lost. I shifted my focus to the Bengali babu, who got stationed on the other side of my table. Apparently, he is having the same thing, Egg biriyani! Yet, he is eating it so deliciously that it made me question, whether I really saw what I think I saw. I had to take a relook and confirm. Aah.. there it is. A dead cockroach on my egg biriyani!!
Now, you may be wondering why I am not making a fuss. I want to, but I can't. Let me give you a little perspective on what is going on.
To begin with, I am unemployed and living far from my home. All I have is meagre monthly remittance from home, which barely sustains me. Most of the months, I end up borrowing from my friends. Now that I owe everyone, I am ashamed to even face them. I had to come with a monthly plan on spending, which means spending less on everything including food. As my rent is around 1650 bucks per month, adding a few bucks for electricity, water connection and WiFi will take it close to 2000 bucks. So, out of a monthly remittance of 5000 bucks, I am left with 3000 bucks for 30 days. This includes food and every other expenses. Doing a simple math will tell you, that is a 100 bucks a day!
Thanks to the nearby college and resident students, I found a place where they serve homely food for a few bucks. The Ammumma in charge of that mess asked 30 bucks for breakfast and 35 for dinner. No lunch. Whatever I am left with for that day, this restaurant is the only place I could afford for lunch. A cheap, poorly maintained unhygienic restaurant serving primarily, migrants and long distance lorry drivers.
Now I can create a dramatic scene. But, I don't think anyone cares! Probably I may end up paying the bill with an empty stomach. I can lodge a complaint with food safety authorities. They may shut down this place and that won't help my cause either.
When I was home, I used to shout at every 'foreign things' I could find on my food. Be it a strand of hair or a small insect, I used to throw that portion away. Probably, won't even eat anymore. Today, that is a luxury I cannot afford. So, I silently took that cockroach on its antenna and put it under the table. No one saw me. I don't want to eat that, but I don't want to stay on an empty stomach until dinner, either.
I had upma for breakfast. It was good and clean. But I hate upma, as it never fills my belly. So, I intentionally choose this egg biriyani to compensate that. I had to stay awake with energy and prepare for this dream job, which I badly want. Never thought, I end up eating food with loathe and thoughts of vomit. That took some time to finish. Bengali babu is still eating with a content face. I kept my fury inside, paid the bills and left that place.
What followed was the usual walk under the scorching sun, which never fails to remind me, which hour of the day I choose to 'wander around'. Since I don't own a private vehicle, this walk continues for another 15 or 20 minutes, until I reach my room. People in cars ride past me, with a judgmental look. I can read, 'you don't belong here' in their faces. Yes, I do. I wake up early and sweat throughout the day. I put more efforts than him or anyone. I make sure of that. That's how I spent my day. One day, I reach where I wanted to be. Then I look back at these days or maybe write about it?
Soon after I closed the door to my room, I took my sweaty shirt off and sit under the fan. Everyday routine. 10 minutes cool off time. This is more like a time for contemplation before getting back to preparations. My only pair of socks are hanging dirty on the corner. Good thing, it keeps a safe distance from my shirts. I only have those three shirts, which I use twice a week. Maybe I buy some new clothes, once I get this job. I can make a long list of things, I desperately needed. Then, on the other side, I can write about the things I wanted. Sometimes I wonder, whether my teeny tiny room have enough space to accommodate my dreams!
I kept checking my wrist watch, hoping that tiny needle will somehow rush to 'seven'. No evening snacks or coffee. Don't want to walk that same distance again and come back with a sweaty body. Then the time waste! This burning sensation in my stomach is like a fire in my head. I need it.
As always, I am the first to report for dinner. Sharp seven. Almost as if I was eagerly waiting for dinner the whole day. Ammumma served a lot of dishes, as if she was giving away a big vegetable thali or something. Is she compensating for the breakfast? I want to dig in so badly. But the thoughts of paying only 35 bucks for all these, restrained my hands from exploiting her kindness. Still I ate like, that was the only meal I had today. She smiled and turned her head towards the reality show going on in the television, almost as if to make me feel less uncomfortable.
I finished dinner with satisfaction. She took the plates to the wash. I added another 35 under my name in the bill book. I haven't paid, for like a month or something. That must have added up to a good number now. Maybe she's struggling to feed me, who knows! She never complains or asks for money. Only thing she always asked was whether I need food tomorrow, to which I always nodded 'yes'. I cannot help but wait until the next month to pay her bills.
As I walked home under the moonlight, I couldn't help but wonder about all these people. They are giving food for less money. They may be getting only wafer thin margins out of this. They are the reason, I am sustaining. They're the fuel to my dreams. They're giving me a chance to fight for what I believes in.. or what matters in my life. Now the onus is on me to grab this opportunity. Make worthy of theirs as well as my own sacrifices. To do something worthwhile.. to find meaning in life.. and ultimately be in a position, not to judge, but to be of some value to others..
Inspired by Life.
Adarsh Sharlet.
©adarsh_sharlet
