A Bottle of Coke
It’s 2:30 AM in the night. I really wanted a bottle of Coke. Sprite would do too. I asked my brother to go and get it for me since he was already out. He comes back without the bottle. He said he will get it tomorrow.
I wish I could go and get it myself.
If only the streets weren’t so deserted.
If it weren’t for the watchman throwing me dirty looks, questioning where I’m off to with his glances.
If that streetlight was working.
If only there were enough people on the road.
Enough *women on the road
What if I just take an auto?
What if I’m driven off to somewhere I don’t wish to go to?
Yesterday I was at my friend’s place. Unweary of the time we spent hours catching up, it was midnight before I knew it. I went ahead to book an auto.
“It’s not safe,” my friend said.
“Please cancel the auto. Neither your nor my area is safe”
I cancelled the auto on her insistence. My brother was out as usual. I called him and asked me to pick me up.
“Half an hour” he said. I was relieved I could spend more time with my friend.
An hour passed, no sign of him.
“I’m on my way”, he said on the call.
My friend begins to doze off “I’m really sorry, I can’t stay awake anymore”
I wish I could just leave her alone to sleep.
“It’s alright, I’ll just wait by myself. Don’t worry.” She goes off to sleep and I bask in the lone company of my thoughts.
I wish I could go home myself.
If only the streets weren’t so deserted.
If it weren’t for the watchman throwing me dirty looks, questioning where I’m off to with his glances.
If that streetlight was working.
If only there were enough people on the road.
Enough *women on the road.
What if I just take an auto?
What if I’m driven off to somewhere I don’t wish to go to?
“Come down in 10 minutes” my brother calls me at 1:40 AM. I don’t leave until he calls me at 2 AM. He has finally reached.
I wake my friend up and tell her I’m leaving. She drops me at the door, we bid final goodbyes.
My brother is sitting in his male friend’s car. He drops both of us right below our building. I wasn’t so wary of the watchman’s looks this time.
I’m finally home.
Being born a woman is my awful tragedy. To have my whole circle of action, thought and feeling rigidly circumscribed by my inescapable feminity. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars — to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording — all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night…
-Sylvia Plath
It’s 3 AM in the night. I really wanted a bottle of Coke. My pool of thoughts have left me thirstier, but I sleep without it.
