Unsolicited enmities
Monsoon has a way of finding me on my knees and also considerably helpless. Two weeks into the first semester of my tenth grade, I fall sick ( again ). I’m only partially surprised about this whole ordeal because the universe has me convinced that it has a pattern constructed for me where it entertains itself by blasting a completely impossible challenge right in my face every single rainy season. I speak from experience. It’s always something rare, unexpected and sometimes even unheard of that I’m diagnosed with and wow, I’m back at home for an unspecified period of time. Again. I would lay in the school’s medical unit with my head in my hands, my ears ringing from the relentless calls of the matron for dinner. I hated eating Wednesday Pav Bhaji in the MU, because it tasted like bricks and that night, as I tried my best to delay the consumption of such questionable comestibles, I dreamt of home and the endless possibilities of nameless buttery concoctions my mother would ha...