Khari Baoli. I challenge you to cross the streets without sneezing your guts out. Spices of all kinds live here like water in an ocean. Now imagine spending 17 years of your life here, that too in a 500 square feet of living space right above a tiny spice shop. And having to share it with 4 other creatures (Read that 15, if you want to count in mice and lizards too.) the same size as yourself.
By the way, I'm Aasma. Although I'm 17, I haven't really lived anything that can be called as an 'experience'. Or maybe I have, if the word 'experience' would mean making your bed in the morning, going to school and coming back home to be the most ideal daughter to my parents. Well, that's how the first 17 years of my life have been like.
I remember being told by my mother at a very early age that boys are a distraction and that any person who makes you think otherwise should be left alone. I certainly don't blame her for saying that. It feels like yesterday when I saw my elder sister, Aakanksha, being forced to abort her child after she fell in love with a sex-starved man who was 10 years older than her. He abandoned both my sister and her unborn child after realizing that he won't be able to provide for them. She was barely 20 then and hadn't even started making her own money. Six years later, I feel happy seeing her as the independent woman she has always wanted to be. Much to my disappointment, she still craves for a man to complete her and believes that there's someone out there who would treat her differently, at least from the one she wrongfully fell in love with.
And then there's Anjini, the youngest of the three of us, who's 15 and still naïve about the worldly ways. She is happy in her own little bubble and I would like her to stay there until the time comes to crawl out. All she needs to be happy is some good food, a television set and her family by her side. She is the jolliest of us all and the one who keeps this little home happy. Oh, did I tell you that she weighs a little over 100 kilos? I think 100 is way too less a number if you consider the size of her heart. She likes to feed every animal living in her vicinity which is why our home often looks like an animal shelter, if not a zoo.
My parents have been the most accommodating lot when it comes to educating their daughters and preparing them for the harsh world. I remember how I used to stealthily check my Dad's wallet to see if he had the money required to pay our school fees. And despite our financial struggles, he never failed to save up for us. Oh, let me clarify your doubts. I NEVER STOLE A PENNY FROM DAD'S WALLET. And I'm no longer the wallet-checking bitch now. Peace!
Mom and Dad have certainly grown up with us and on quipping that they must have felt the desire to have a son, they've always maintained that they're happy and satisfied with what life has chosen to give them. I feel that that's a lie they've been telling us forever. Or maybe I've been overthinking it because I often worry about how their future would look like once all their daughters are married off. I think I'm an overthinker. Yes, I am. And it sucks!
Did I tell you that I have always dreaded ageing? Ever since I learned that human beings are supposed to grow up and be responsible, I became averse to the idea of ageing. On my 17th birthday, I remember waking up in the morning only to run towards the mirror and see if my face had suddenly made way for some wrinkles or if there was one small streak of white hair on my head. Huh! I HATE AGEING. THE MERE IDEA OF IT MAKES ME ANXIOUS.