Footprints

  The clanging of a bell woke me up with a start. Sitting up hurriedly, it took a second for me to register that it wasn’t the prayer bell that usually rang at 5:45am; it was the campus bell that rang at 5:00am. Breathing in, I picked up my phone off the floor and pushed the power button – it didn’t light up. I blinked twice and tried again to no avail. Trying not to think of it too much, I plugged in the charger into the C-port and waited, yawning. A few seconds later, the image of a battery with green bars slowly rising to its top popped up on the screen. Shaking my head, I realized that I hadn’t charged my phone the previous day; and if it wasn’t for the bell that had made me get up half an hour early, I would’ve overslept and gotten late. I murmured a ‘thank you’ and grabbed my toothbrush.   Two hours later, I was at my desk in my room, clad in my Wednesday-best, jotting down the tasks I had to finish before 5:00pm that day. The unexpected pats on the back and greetin...

  “Ma!” I was getting tired of arguing with her. “I don’t want to get involved with this now.” A joke at the family tailor’s boutique earlier that day had turned my afternoon sour. The Aunty had suggested that it was ‘about time’ that I left my parents’ house. Although Ma had responded calmly at the time, she was quiet the entire drive back home and I had braced myself for the storm to come. Sometimes, it even seemed that just like me, my parents were conflicted – about letting me realize my career dreams and worrying about when to make ‘that’ decision. Age ofcourse is just a number, but it doesn’t stop or slow down for anyone. So, when Ma had asked me about my thoughts on that comment made at the boutique, I had told her ‘not to worry’. Unfortunately for me, those three words flipped her switch.  “Why? Do you have someone?” she asked.  I looked at her, hurt. “Really? You think I’m already out of that mess?”  “I just don’t want anything good to slip by, while we ...