The night was getting more uncomfortable for Advi― she would hug her pillow tight with all four limbs to keep warm, then let go as it became stuffy, and repeat. The whole day had been agonising. To begin, she had risen that morning with a sense of haste within, like a chain racing off an overtaxed sprocket. She was all ready for the interview she had been preparing months for― but later they informed her that it was postponed for another week. It was cruel. To contain this tense nervousness, just as the point of release had been reached, was unbearable. Her current work-life had been stressful, she was short on money in this foreign city; lost in an invisible maze and no one to aid her out. Now the dice were in the hands of fate itself. While it would seem easy to shrug it off and cling onto patience, it was certainly not. The finicky thoughts prancing in her mind made her uneasy in her own skin. She felt cold, shivers riding down her spine in waves from time to time. When everyone avoided the nasty sun of November, she soaked it in to remedy her troubles.
But day becomes night, and the chilly winds fuel the restlessness within. By 4 am, when Advi realised she could not get over these troubles within her, she flung herself out of bed, slipped on her shoes and brought out her scooter. She rode in through the frosty nocturnal wind, head-on into the cold, her mind shouting out everything that was going wrong in life. And when that chaos settled into clarity, she braked in at a roadside tea stall. She slid out a five-rupee coin, and in return was handed a small glass of tea. No words were exchanged as she held onto the rim, that narrow safe zone between burn and scald. And as the vapour drifted onto her benumbed senses, the elixir rolling upon her tongue, down the throat straight to a frightened soul, she felt for the first time that day–heck, the first time in a long while– warmth.
Digital Artwork Credit: Arshiet Dhamnaskar
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