I often sit and think about people who are always looking for a change. And I don't mean to judge you here if you happen to be one of them, but why exactly would someone look for a change if everything is going alright with them? Why would someone want to change into an uncomfortable pair of jeans if pyjamas are way more comfortable? Why do people go far away to try different restaurants and cuisines if the restaurant they've been visiting for years is just perfect in every sense? And why do they go out of their way to make new friends if they already have some amazing ones? How the hell do people gather the courage to step out of their comfort zone?
Well, it's not you. It's me. I hate changes. And even more so if that change looks more like an evolution. My life was just perfect until 3 months ago before everything came crumbling down. School life abruptly came to an end and so did the freedom from responsibilities. I had to let go of childhood friends and settle for some occasional meetups, phone calls and whatsapp conversations with them. Classes were going to change into lectures. I was supposed to be turning into a responsible adult from being a spoilt child. It was all so overwhelming for a 17 year old and needless to say, I just did not want to grow up anymore. Little did I know that there was a lot of growing up to do. Or maybe the growing up part had just begun.
The day had barely started and I was breathing heavily while walking towards the footover bridge. The fact that I would have to walk 15 minutes every day to the bus stand had started giving me an aneurysm.
"Madam! Where to?", inquired an auto-rickshaw driver while pulling up his vehicle.
I looked at his eager face and as much as I wanted to just take a seat in his auto-rickshaw, I couldn't do it because it would have costed me at least 20 bucks. Travelling in an auto-rickshaw was a luxury that I couldn't afford in a meagre pocket money of 3000 bucks.
"Can you help me cross the footover bridge?", I asked.
"Are you drunk?", he replied in a state of fury.
The man clearly looked shocked and irritated as he drove ahead. I certainly don't blame him for thinking of me as an insane roadside woman because given how frustrated I already was, I wasn't in a mood to entertain anyone. It was July, meaning that the sun now possessed the power of cooking human popcorns and mind you, I was wearing a full-sleeves high-neck top.
I dragged myself up the escalator to the bridge, walked towards the other end and came down running to the bus stand. 15 minutes and five face wipes later, I finally managed to catch the bus that took me to the place where I was supposed to be spending the next 3 years of my life.