ARZOO POV

I was standing near the glass fence of the rooftop, looking down at the park where children were playing. Their laughter echoed softly in the air. It had been one week since I came to this new city. Everything felt more urban compared to my hometown, yet calm. It’s a society with many beautiful houses and a big park right in front of ours.

The house is pretty. On the upper floor, there are two rooms, one for Tisha and one for me. There’s a kitchen and a big washroom too. But my favourite spot is the balcony. Standing there, watching kids laugh, aunties walk, uncles jog, it feels strangely peaceful. The sunset in the sky looks like colours scattered, almost ethereal. Looking at the sky makes me feel so many emotions about life in general.

The road in front is wide and mostly traffic-free because it’s a residential area. In the evenings, people come out for walks, which feels good, to see everyone interacting, talking, and feeling alive.

My MBA classes started three days ago. I have great hopes from this year, 2016. It feels like a fresh start.

Mumma came with me to drop me off and help me settle. She stayed only for a day, but that day meant everything. I chose this PG because the locality felt neat, green, breathable, and beautiful. It takes me around 20 to 25 minutes to reach the university by auto. The main road is just a five-minute walk away, so finding an auto is easy.

My PG owners are an old couple. Uncle is a retired army officer, and aunty was also a teacher, just like my mom. Their daughters are married and settled abroad. They are very kind people.

Honestly, I am liking the vibes here. Mumma was worried, of course. She always is. But she supports me in everything. Mothers aren’t just blessings, they are everything. Like they say, life doesn’t come with a manual, it comes with a mother. Me being here and doing everything is because she dared to work hard alone for me.

I am an only child. I lost my father when I was around five. Or maybe I should say mom lost her soulmate when she was very young. She raised me alone, without anyone’s help. Mumma met my father in college. He was two years senior. He belonged to an upper caste, and mumma didn’t. His family disapproved because it was a matter of “shame” for them, especially in the 90s. Mumma’s family also couldn’t accept that their daughter chose her own partner. For them, she brought dishonour and what not.

They married against the will of their families. They moved to a rented apartment since no one from their families wanted to have a relationship with them.

But my mumma is strong. Very strong.

She worked as a school teacher, gave tuitions, struggled silently, but never let me feel the absence of anything. We never had luxury, but we always had peace.

I did my B.Com from my city. For MBA, I applied to many universities. In this particular university, I got a scholarship, so the fees were reduced. That made my decision easier. Although it’s three hours away from my home, mumma pushed me to take this opportunity, for growth, experience, and career, blah blah.

There is nothing more important to me than earning well so my mom can finally rest. I want to do everything for her.

“Arzoo… chai!”

Tisha called from behind.

Tisha is a very sweet and bubbly girl. She’s probably two years older than me. We share this PG as we both live on the upper floor. The PG owners live downstairs. She works as a nurse in a reputed private hospital. She’s also away from her home, just like me. Although we don’t get much time to chat because she is always busy with her long hospital shifts, and me with university.

“Thank you,” I smiled.

We both stood quietly, looking at the park across the road.

“Life is fun for them, no worries,” she said, watching the kids.

“Life is fun generally,” I replied. “We’re just hustling right now. Maybe someday we’ll be like them.”

She smiled and said, “Adults can never be content. Degree, job, better job, promotions, home, kids, this race never stops.”

I nodded.

“The only sane way is to enjoy every moment,” she added. “Because nothing guarantees happiness.”

“Maybe we waste a lot of time to realise nothing can make you happy unless you want to be happy. That takes a lot of time to learn,” I said softly.

My phone rang. I went to my room.

“Hello, mumma.”

“Kaisi ho, Arzoo?” she asked.

“Thik hoon, mumma. Aap kaise ho?”

“Main bhi thik hoon. University kaisi rahi?”

“Sahi thi. 4 baje tak classes thi, 4:30 ghar aa gayi. Bas khana banana hai.”

“Maine rice bana diye hain hum dono ke liye,” Tisha said, peeping into my room to take something from the shelf.

I smiled at her and continued talking to mumma. Mumma kept asking small things, khana khaya ya nahi, thand lag rahi toh sweater pehna, typical mom stuff. It felt comforting.

After the call, me and Tisha went downstairs to the park. She was on the phone with her family, I guess. I signalled her that I was going to the bakery to buy cookies.

I walked towards the main road. The bakery was big and beautifully decorated. It smelled like fresh bread and coffee. I bought a cookie jar and paid at the counter.

As I turned, I accidentally collided with someone.

A young man, dressed in a formal shirt and pants, was holding a similar cookie jar and some other items.

“I am sorry,” I said immediately.

He nodded and gave a polite smile.

I smiled back.

Then I walked back home.

If you’d like, please share how this chapter made you feel. It would mean a lot to me, as this is my first story. And if anything resonated with you or you’d like to share, I’d love to read it 🤍

Grateful you’re here. See you in the next chapter 🤍