An afternoon in the life of Anushree (ft. Mumbai)

Its 11 am, my alarm goes off and I am pulled out of my dream, I did not get to say goodbye. But guess what they say, never bid goodbye. It means moving on and moving on means forgetting.

I spring out of bed and make myself a cup of green tea. You can tell how the tea has changed from an emotion of compulsion to choice ever since I moved to Mumbai. I put on my track pants and a poorly ironed top, stating how my feelings towards a session of workout would never change. I could literally walk in to the studio wearing on my pyjamas wondering if I shall stop and binge on some juicy chicken cheese nuggets. Clearly, no one is proud.

The nastiest part of my day has already come my way. I ring up the Ola auto and ask him where he is. He glibly replies right here. I push myself to ask him where ‘right here’ is. He promptly tells me right there is right here. 20 minutes later we arrive to a common understanding of the definition of right here and I get into the auto. We’ve already had our first fight and our now enjoying our first comfortable silence. Before we could get to discussing our careers or past secrets, I reach office.

My first stop is the office cafeteria. “Double Nescafe coffee, please” I ask the guy. He hands me a receipt, I walk over to the coffee person and hand it over to him. I like to believe that he and I are good friends now and that we share a common hate for ample of things. He doesn’t want to be here just as much as I do. I ask him to make my coffee ‘extra strong’. He does and then gives me the ‘Caffeine isn’t going to solve years of late nights, no exercise and energy issues, Anushree’ look. There is a look like that, trust me. My coffee guy gives it to me every day.

It’s 1 pm and I have already been shamed by my noon- coffee-making friend. I really do need to learn to let go of the toxic people in my life.

For a couple of days when cook does not turn up at my place, lunch seems to be a luxury, at least that’s what I tell myself when I sit with my coffee and try to figure what I want to get. After picturing my mom’s very disappointed face telling me that health is everything, I go and order plateful of chicken biryani. I look around to make sure no one noticed. Guilt has never tasted so good.

At a distance I see my roommate running towards me. There are very few reasons one can attribute to a person running in the office cafeteria. Either the lunch time is almost getting over or there’s bad news.

Let’s say my luck, “Anushree, I have bad news’’ she blabbers. “She has not invited us to the reunion.”

It’d tell you who the she is and the back story to this but I’m pretty sure you and I can both agree no one cares.

“Why invite so many clones like her for constant disappointment when she could just use a mirror?” I snap back. I look around in all my glory for applause. There was no applause, there was hardly an audience to begin with. I’m still coming to terms with the fact that smart comebacks won’t make me a living. What a shame though.

We get up and head to our respective floors. Ahead of us is four flights of stairs. Two flights in, I want the day to end now.

I walk towards my desk. By now I have already got into a complicated relationship with my sleep, happily or not carried out a workout session, got to office looking like I’m having a pre-midlife crisis, contemplated righteousness due to an auto driver, tried to solve my crushing emotional problems with caffeine, felt a slight satisfaction in his despair and climbed four flights of stairs.

All that, and it’s only 2 PM.