Out The Window
A dusty laptop with a greasy keyboard. Unfolded sheets. Alarms going off at odd times. Two tote bags filled to the brim with essential groceries and fluky snacks. Empty walls. That’s what I wake up to every day. It’s been so for 7 weeks now. This is what my life has come to. But today I decided to finally open my eyes.
When I packed my bags 8 months ago to come to NYC, I didn't know what toll it would take on my life. But I left home at 15. It’s been over 7 years since I’ve started living away from home. I've grown to take care of myself, lick my own wounds, hold my own hand. I’ve literally lived in locked up hostels, stingy rooms, survived around difficult roommates — all stories for another day. I thought I had seen it all. I was prepared for anything the world would throw at me.
Oh boy, I could not have been more wrong. Life has a way of making you humble. It will beat you down to the ground if you don’t listen to it the first time around.
And now with everything that’s happening, living away has adopted a new meaning for me. I haven’t felt so out of my own element, ever. I feel alienated as if I don’t belong here. Neither can I just throw caution to the wind and fly back home. However much I want to.
Stoic — A word I learnt during my GRE prep which I never thought I would use, is what I would use to describe myself now. Gee..those flashcards do help! But the show must go on. The funny part is how I’ve become accustomed to virtual classes now. Maybe, there is a silver lining to it after all.
In other news, I’ve stopped watching the news. Things are getting better, that’s what everyone I talk to back home tells me. Which brings me to all my very dear and near friends who I’m in touch with and those not so dear ones too — flocking my dm’s with questions of all kinds.
“R u safe?” is the crowd favourite, as far as I’ve observed.
Yes, but are you? Are you trying to save your energy by gulping down letters? My fingers itch but I don't type. I remind myself that in these trying times, I need to stay sane.
I appreciate their concern, I really do. But perhaps they forget that I’m mature enough to see through the fake concern. How, do you ask? Because the ones who really care don’t ask you upfront — they observe and try to make you feel better regardless. And I’m been very fortunate to have a couple of good people in my life.
Or maybe, I’m just too cynical these days. To each their own!
In the wave of productivity posts during its rounds on every social media platform out there, I wonder whether my post will get buried and never ever make it to the light. Wouldn’t that be fun?
As the reality starts weighing on your shoulders it’s okay to break down, question everything, feel restless just like I do. Something people have been trying to hide during these “unprecedented times”. I wonder why. These feelings only make us more human. We just need to learn to embrace it — however hard it seems. My way of coping with it is staring out the window and writing shabby posts just like the one you are reading. What doesn’t break us, only makes us stronger right? I wish someone told me this when I needed to hear it.
As I sit looking out the window, I ask you, what would you like to hear right now?
