The shrill sound of the alarm clock, broke my deep slumber, it’s 5:30 am, I throw my cosy blanket away and after what I call a ‘feline stretch’, start the day by smiling at my reflection in the glass, through which I can still see the moon retiring.
It’s more like a bliss than a habit of wearing my sneakers and tracksuit and go for a run, can’t even think of another beginning of a day. You feel like a superhuman, matching your eyes with the sun. The fresh air, dew drops, birds chirping and seeing a handful happy faces just breaks the monotony of life, will never trade this dawn for anything.
After a fulfilling morning, I reach back home. It’s strange how I never have to ring the bell on returning, entrance always welcome me with open doors. Surpassing the wind chimes on the doorway, I see my mother siting at the dining table waiting with parathas with an extra dollop of ghee. How I am always reluctant to eat that.
“Have a little bit.” My mom says
“No maa, you know what will this do to my body” I smirk looking in the mirror, and help myself with a glass of soy milk. This is our everyday routine, which we both do not want to give up. I know she loves me too much to stay angry for long.
“I’ll make you an offer, you can not refuse”, I iterate in the typical Marlon Brando manner, she always cracks up hearing this iconic dialogue from me. I give her a quick peck and get in my room to get ready.
Sitting in the canteen, with my friends laughing and crying at the same time, got me face to face with the realisation the epochal existence of college in ones life. I was no different, everything about this place fills me with energy, the drama society, our jamming sessions and most quintessential, jibber-jabbering under the tree. My professors wouldn’t say the same though. There is always a question or two asked about what am I planning for my future. When will I get serious about my career, I am already 20. To which my answer would invariably be ‘I am just 20.’ I guess only my diary knows all the secrets, where I have a whole page dedicated to my bucket list, I wonder sipping my fresh orange juice and savouring whole wheat sandwiches, occasionally checking for dark circles under my eyes. People always make fun of my strict diet and my habit of checking the mirror, some jokingly calls me a narcissist too. I wouldn’t blame them as, I am one, and always discard these allegations with a wink.
It’s dusk again, another favourite part of the day. seeing the horizon, can’t identify where land ends and the sky begins. Those incredible colours and hues, haven’t seen anything more beautiful than this. Another wonderful day comes to an end, I wonder saying hello to the moon peeping from clouds , soon this blue sky will be engulfed in the most spectacular starry night. This imaginary painting suddenly starts vibrating, I look at my phone and see a familiar number flashing, I contemplate for a second before taking the call. It was a short conversation which ends in a soft “okay.” The traffic suddenly feels chaotic, I can sense the pollution in the air and the blaring horns making my head spin. In this mess I see a petite pastry shop in the corner, with the most moist cakes staring at me. I hurriedly go to that bakery, order a slice of chocolate truffle with a dollop of vanilla ice cream , it’s been ages I have eaten that. I feel my soft pink cheeks and dark tresses flowing in the air, looking at my reflection, from no where a tear trickles down. That chocolate heaven on my table staring at me as if laughing at my defeat. I devour it like a demon, finish it while my eyes still wet. The phone rings again that’s my worried father calling, asking for my whereabouts and request me to come home soon. I reply after catching my breath “coming soon Papa.” Finally running my fingers in my hair for the last time before I loose them again.
It’s dawn now, I didn’t blink an eye the whole night. How I wish this day would have never come. There is a knock on the door. My mother enters, she kisses me good morning and hugs me tight. Asks me to get ready while hiding her tears. I sprung up from my bed and ask her to make me a hearty breakfast of parathas and ghee. She looks at me and says “ only if you make me an offer.” I break down and say “ I wish maa, but this time cancer won over me.” I have been fighting this dreaded disease for over a year, tried my best for it to never return, but it springs up like a Christmas tree in my fragile body. Today I am trying to beat it again with the chemotherapy. A shiver ran through my spine, thinking, once more being bedridden, only seeing the blue sky through that window, where I will not even recognise my own reflection, the soft pink skin will become scaly again. All these thoughts making me weak to even stand, I feel a familiar touch on my shoulders, that’s my father. He looks at me and says “don’t loose hope darling, we still have to complete your bucket list” this was enough to turn my lips into a curve. “I know Papa I am a fighter, I will survive.”
I smile at my mirror, tie my hair in a pony tail, wear my sneakers and get ready for the long day.
My father takes out the car for us to drive down to the hospital. Seeing my unwillingness to sit inside, he looks at me confused. I tell him “ I trust my feet more.” Matching my eyes with the sun, I jog away!!
